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erenjaegerwifee · 1 month ago

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Love Of My Life (part one)

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Avatar!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, explicit language, smut, p in v, squirting, oral receiving (m&f), spanking, kissing, mentions of gunshots, blood, bleeding, death, exclusive relationships. Word Count: 28.3k

Disclaimer: All my characters are aged-up! If you have an issue with that, do not interact with my account or any of my posts.

Part two now out

Blood soaked the stone beneath him.

Neteyam lay sprawled on the jagged rock, gasping. The sea sprayed cool waves splashing water against his skin. The bullet wound buried in his chest burned like fire, but the real pain was deeper, each breath becoming harder to take. He tried to listen to what his parents where saying, to Lo’ak and Tsireya, but their words fell on almost deaf ears. He could hear their voices mixed with the distant chaos; shouts, gunshots, even the churn of the ocean, but everything was fading behind the haze of the pain.

He turned his head looking around maybe if he looked at them, he could focus on what they were saying. Neteyam is not anything if not determined. He wanted to do whatever he can even though he was currently in the worst shape of his life.

“Neteyam…your sisters…hold on my son!” His mothers voice rang from what he could pick up.

“Hold on boy…help is coming” his father’s voice was vulnerable clearly having a rough time keeping it together.

Lo’ak did not even try to hide his sobs as he held onto neteyam tightly, whether his hands could reach, “please don’t leave me…. sorry…sorry…never run off again!” His sobs and shouts were the loudest.

Tsireya didn’t say much, quiet sobs by his feet as she gave his family space, but she was one of his best friends now, she cried, and she cared about him so much. He didn’t want her first experience with war and death to be her best friend dying.

Lo’ak didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to go, but his sisters were in danger, and he knew where they were being held. Jake was adamant they get them back before more of his children were injured, before neteyam died so they could say goodbye. Tsireya, she didn’t not want to be alone running behind Lo’ak to keep her safe. Neytiri angrily bonded with her ikran taking off in the sky, her wild eyes looking back at him once before taking off.

They thought he had already gone to Eywa when his eyes shut, and his breathing leveled when he tried to calm his heart. They thought he was no longer with them. They did not see the way his fingers twitched as he tried to raise his hand, he wanted to call out to them; to tell them he had den gone yet. But the strength was not there

Now Neteyam was alone, they vanished, and he didn’t know what to make out of it. They left him? Would they make it back? Being the sweet boy he is neteyam prayed to Eywa they would make it back before it was his time. He prayed he could get to see his parents, siblings, before he was taken to be one with Eywa. He wanted to hold on.

Right on time, you gasp for air climbing out of the water coughing up whatever had almost made you give up and drown, you climb onto the rock and unclip your bag taking it off your shoulders and dropping it beside you, your hands push your air out of your face as you coughed on all fours. You didn’t even notice him; he wasn’t your concern. It was only after you caught your breath did you see him laying there, his seemingly lifeless body.

You don’t know him, clearly, he is na’vi, not metkayina so from the forest, a Sully? One of his boys. You move closer and neteyam hears your light, soft footsteps. They were too deliberate for an animal but too light for the heavy boots that soldiers wear. His eyes were closed; he couldn’t open them even if he wanted to. He felt all too exposed; he can’t move but he’s conscious about his surroundings like some kind of sleep paralysis in a nightmare.

The shoes make slow steps towards him getting closer and closer. It was a whisper of movement, strange. He wasn’t sure if it was an enemy, but he knows it’s not familiar. You crouch down next to him, you thought maybe you could make him out, but you can’t. Your hand slowly moves to his face touching his cheek softly, its still warm, hot even.

You look down at his body, the blood still oozed out of his wound. ‘Was he even dead?’ The thought ran across your mind.

Your eyes darted around to see if anyone was coming back before your fingers slowly moved to under his nose, after a brief moment you felt his warm exhale hit your fingers, ‘he’s alive’

“You’re still breathing...” Your hands fly to his chest closing to wound to prevent anymore blood loss, he must be so weak by now he was in so much pain he passed out, or was that from the blood loss? You weren’t sure. Either way you didn’t want to let him die. “Just hold on...” you raise your head again this time looking for the backpack you have discarded.

Quickly you let go of him and ran to get to backpack before running back, ripping it open you pull out a soaked t-shirt, ‘it’ll work.’ You make quick work of ringing out any water you could before you cover his wound to prevent more blood loss.

“Shit…” you mumble, you know you can’t save him here, you have to take him where you have supplies. Neteyam doesn’t know what to do, not that he can do anything. He hears a woman’s voice. He hears her trying to reassure him he won’t die, he felt her hands trying to stop the blood, so he wasn’t as alarmed as he was a few minutes ago, in fact he felt a bit comforted someone was trying to save him when everyone though there wasn’t anyone to save.

“Okay I know you probably can’t respond, maybe you can’t hear me at all and I’m talking to myself like an idiot, but I need to move you.” You waited a few seconds as if he was going to answer but he didn’t, you called out for your ikran that landed beside you in less than a minute. You look back down at his body, he was tall, muscular, definitely heavy. After a deep breath you clutched his arms over your head and lifted his deadweight on your back, settling him on your ikran you took off quickly in the direction of safety.

You were sure no one saw you considered most of the clan had retreated when the ship sunk and it was the middle of eclipse. You flew into the darkness at unmatched speed, holding onto him tightly so he wouldn’t accidentally fall off and actually die. Your adrenaline was pumping through you, the air felt cold against your soaking wet clothes, you couldn’t wait to get a minute to really breathe.

You made your way to the top of a cliff where just beyond the tree line was a house, it was so human like if someone saw the cabin its look almost like it was on earth, if it wasn’t for the unique Pandora trees and flowers. You landed swiftly and leaned neteyam on your ikran before jumping off.

You ran into the cabin going straight for the medically cabinet you kept stocked, and pulling out some gauzes, medical tape and surgical kit. You ran back to him and pulled him off the ikran. His body his the grassy with a loud thump, but you heard it. A small groan from his lips, it hit but he was there, alive, responsive.

“I am sorry, I know that must have hurt. But what I have to do will hurt even more” you speak softly to him almost comforting him before you turn on a small flashlight and held it between your teeth and rip the blood t-shirt off, when you lifted him earlier you saw the exit wound so no bullet in him is one less thing for you to take care off.

You open the gauze and wipe the blood holding it against the wound. His eyes were shut tightly and his brow line furrowed. You know he is about to feel what you're going to do. You use your elbow to hold the gauze in place as you thread the surgical needle. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. This is going to hurt, but only for a second.” you repeat yourself over and over as if he could acknowledge you in a muffled voice.

You took out a needle filled with lidocaine and slowly injecting it in certain parts around to wound to numb it, “I don’t even know if this works on na’vi” you mumble to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you started to sew up to the wound, slightly pulling his touch skin to close it up. Thankfully, you know an artery wasn’t damaged otherwise he would have bled out by now.

“Almost done..” you whisper before I rip the thread with my teeth and knot it. I sigh in relief as the bleeding in the front stops and I turn him over and do the same to the wound on his back. The last knot tight ended under your fingers the bleeding stopped, just barely.

You take a deep breath and lean back sitting next to his body on the floor spitting out the flashlight. You noticed his breathing was no longer quick and low but more normal, so you must have done something right. You look over the cliff at the eclipse and the way it reflected so beautifully on the open ocean.

Your heartbeat was stabilizing, you didn’t realize how much of an autopilot you were operating on until your arms started to feel tired, after all you did hold onto him very tightly. From what you could tell he was out like a light now, if he wasn’t before you weren’t sure. You had to move him inside. You look back at him, he was clearly a solider, he had the build. He was young, maybe your age? You weren’t sure. All your questions would be answered in due time, or maybe he’d kill you and run back to his family either way you can’t say you regret saving him.

You never much cared about how human affect the environment here on Pandora, your job was not to hunt down any na’vi who were trying to live in peace, no. Your job was the protect the people on the ship, it was your only job, to keep humans from dying on pandora. You knew what they were doing killing of the tulkun for the youth serum, but until the day you saw them kill the tulkun close to the clan. You didn’t care.

How could they be so unloving as to kill a member of someone’s family? They knew very well that was the relationship between the tulkun and the ocean na’vi. What if it were their family member? Their mother or baby? Only then will they decide these acts are vile. Maybe that is why you decided to save him.

You stand up and walk around his body until you were standing at him head, you drop to your knees sliding your arms under his to lift his upper body off the ground. You noticed how long he was before but now you must have underestimated before. He was at least a foot taller than you.

The first pull is the hardest his weight fights against you to bring him in. Your teeth gritted as you continued until you made it over the rocky ledge and inside the cabin through the back balcony glass doors. You didn’t drop him as you look upped the stairs where the bedrooms were, and you take a long heavy sigh.

Instead of suffering through every step you settling to laying him down on the black L shaped leather couch. Carefully you adjust his body putting his legs up on the couch one by one until you he was in a comfortable enough position you could let him rest. You started a fire before making sure to lock all windows and doors and drawing all the curtains. The only source of light was the first and the dim kitchen light behind the couch.

You got a damp cloth from the kitchen and decided to clean his wounds best you could in his position. You sank down leaning back on the base of the couch looking at him, his braids still had traces of blood, but he’d have to lose them out and wash it. Your eyes darted over the bandage, no fresh blood so you took a breath.

You were exhausted, you could just take a nap right there, but you were soaking wet and also covered in blood, so you decided to take a shower. It’s not like he would go anywhere.

The hot water was well needed, washing off all the blood and salty water was heavenly, the shower made the mirrors and glass door steam up, but you enjoyed it. You had recently run out of soap and had to make some from a purple flower your found growing wild outside, it was nice and no poisonous which you checked multiple times. It smells like nothing you’ve ever smelled before it was amazing, it brought you so much peace and tranquility you didn’t know a scent could do that.

The water hit you skin like a whisper at first, then a rush. You braced your hands against the wall, letting it pour over you, washing the blood away in slow red spirals down the drain. Your brain was fogged with thoughts of the man downstairs on your couch, this would have been the first time in your entire life you ever let a stranger in your home and that was before you were even an avatar.

You pad down the stairs now dressed in a tank top and pj shorts with your lace bra peaking out the top of the tank top, you weren’t worried about it you were sure he’d probably wake up tomorrow rather than tonight. You walk over to the kitchen and put the kettle on to heat up some water to make some tea.

Afterwards you sat on the other side of the couch where his feet were, your tea sat in the coffee table in front of you and take the throw blankets off your side of the couch using one to cover him from the waist down and the other to cover yourself. You couldn’t pinpoint why it was so important to you he stayed safe and warm, but you didn’t want to think too much into it.

Before you could get comfortable you noticed an object on his hip that seemed out of place under the blanket. Carefully you pulled it back and saw his knife. It was natural he’d have one, almost every na’vi you’d encountered had their own personalized knife, whether it was a specific carving or bead even the blade they were all special.

Slowly you take the entire holder out of his tweng and set it right there on the coffee table. So, when he did eventually wake up, he’ll see it’s still right there. It was a beautiful knife. Clearly one of the Omatikayan with the intricate carvings. The handle was wood covered with leather and waxed thread from a beanstalk palm, and the blade was the size of your entire forearm, it was made of some kind of bone, you could wrong, but it looked like a piece of bone from a large predator he carved into a sharpened tip and stained to have a darker brown color.

The handle also had a small bead attached to it, it was tied on using a thread, but it was beautiful, contrast to the dark scary color of the rest of the knife, the bead was a very pretty pink, it was a color that wasn’t all that common, at least not that you’ve seen. It was not perfectly round but shaped almost like a jagged flower. This part of his knife was definitely a gift, and it felt deeply personal.

“Wow…” you whispered to yourself. You wondered if he had made himself or if it was gifted to him by someone special, you were aware they did that sometimes, for close families and mates. You didn’t even know if he was mated, what if you casually kidnapped someone’s husband. They could be crying right now thinking he was dead, even though you did save his life.

You sat back in your stop your body facing him as you leaned against the couch and pulled the blanket over your shoulders. With a slow breath you shift into the corner of the couch and tuck your legs up, letting your body sink into the cushions. It was quiet now, just the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the cliff and his low breaths on the other side of the couch.

You let your eyes drift back to him once more, he’s so strong, strained. Yes he’s battered and braised, but still he is composed. Like he’s always been built to endure. You reach out distinctively to pull the blanket over his wore out feet properly tucking it in as if he was a child.

“You better now die on me now…or wake up and kill me cause I’ll be pissed”

The words were whispered before you could stop them.

Your head tilted back and hit the top of the couch before you shut your eyes, you don’t know when you fell asleep. One minute you were looking at him with half lidded eyes and the next your eyes were closed but you still saw him laying in front of you.

The fire had long since dimmed, its light reduced to a soft amber glow that flicker against the walls. Outside, the world had quieted, only distant crashes of waves and the whisper of wind through the trees remained.

You were curled up on the other end of the couch, blanket was tangled in your legs and your head reacted against the cool cushion, exhaustedly asleep. Moonlight washed through the windows, pale and silvery, pooling across the floor up the side of Neteyam’s face through the slit in the curtain.

His fingers twitched.

Then again, but more deliberately this time. A shallow inhale rattled through his chest, strained and dry. He winced as he tried to move slightly, his brow tightening as his senses crawled back one by one to him. The stiffness in his limbs and ache in his chest, the softness of the blanket that was pulled over his abdomen.

And the scent.

Not the salty waters at the metkayina clan he became so accustomed too, not the scent of blood that lingered in the battles field.

Something warm, clean, unfamiliar but also familiar in a way he couldn’t place.

His eyes slowly opened, slits at first. They felt grainy, like sand. His eyes adjusted to the low lighting of the room, the wooden ceilings, and wooden walls. A soft rhythmic sound, ‘waves?’ a cliffside?

It definitely wasn’t home.

He moved slights and pain bloomed in his chest, it was bound, hints of blood that wasn’t cleaned properly against his skin felt dry.

Then he saw you. A girl, slumped at the bend of the couch wrapped loosely in a blanket, chest rising and falling slowly. You weren’t human, he hinted the extra finger you had. You were an avatar. Your breathing was peaceful, unbothered, but he could almost see the exhaustion.

Neteyam stared for a while, a long moment. His heart thumbed weakly against bruised ribs, the pain was real, the exhaustion was deeper, but he wasn’t dead.

And he just knew that was because of you.

Then you stirred.

By a noise. Not loud, just a soft scrape, shift of weight against the leather. Your eyes open slowly before the rest of your body moves. You know there’s a chance this man will risk his life again just to kill you, being an unfamiliar avatar and all.

Your eyes darted around until you saw him shifting in the darkness, with a breath you sat up, “you’re awake” your voice comes out soft.

His body shifts, his face drawn tight in pain that he tried to mask. But his eyes were open, locked directly on you. You shift to stand up reaching for the bottle of water that was on the coffee table.

You barely got to move when he snatched his knife off the table and held it up. Given his very injured situation you were impressed he was able to act so quickly, you were right, he is a warrior.

“Woah, wait” you say gently, hands raised.

His grip was trembling from the lose of blood, you were sure. “Who the hell are you?” He hissed, “why did you bring me where?”

“You were dying- shot” you point to his chest, “I stopped the bleeding, stitched you up” your voice was low.

Distrust etched in ever tense line in his body, “you’re with the RDA” he hissed once more, “your kind is the reason this happened! The reason I was shot!” His eyes narrowed on you.

“I’m not them- I didn’t shoot yo-”

“Where am I?” He asked hoarsely.

“Safe, you’re safe” you replied.

“That’s not what I asked”

A moment of silence cranked between you. You sat up slowly not moving from your side of the couch.

“Stay back!” He hissed

“I’m not moving” you say to reassure him, but you aren’t sure how much it helped.

You look down at his bandage before looking back at him face making sure he didn’t accidentally rip them.

“What is this place?” He asked you, his voice cracked.

“This is my…home, I guess. The RDA base is...far- very far from here so you don’t have to worry. It was close to where the ship went down so I brought you here to stop the bleeding and stitch it up.” You explain hoping to help him get answers.

“I know you are distrustful, and this is a weird situation but I’m not trying to hurt you” your tone was soft.

“Then why did you bring me here?!” His voice cracked again.

“I wouldn’t have been allowed into the clan even if I were to bring you back. I would have been killing on the spot. I know that you ran with your family from the forest. That’s the whole reason Quaritch commandeered the ship in the first place. I brought you here cause know one knows about this cabin, you can…heal”

His grip on the knife faltered slightly but he didn’t drop it. “I see how this could be…unbelievable. But I promise I’m not here to hurt you, or anyone. That was never my intention when I joined the RDA, and I.. have held at least that part of my morals up.”

“You flew me here, I remember on your ikran, how did you get it?” He asked his voice was calmer this time but not as calm as he should be healing from a gunshot wound.

“I have been on Pandora for years; at a certain point we need a way to get around that would waste gas. Since I work out in the ocean it’s easier to fly on an ikran than a helicopter every time we needed something from shore. It was a requirement by command that some of the avatars bonded with one.” I explain truthfully.

His eyes flicker over your body, the tank top you wore with your bra still peaking out, his eyes lingers but he didn’t react, clearly you were comfortable here. And alone because humans don’t dress like this in front of people. At least that much he knew.

“You don’t know me” he bit out, “why risk it?”

“I…” you stopped to think, you harden actually thought about it. “You were alive when I…climbed onto that rock I couldn’t just let you die” you replied with a small shake of your head implying you were being genuine.

He didn’t say anything but shifted again barely, wincing in pains

“Wait- you will tear your stitches can you just lay back down? And relax?” You raise your hands hoping he’d stay down before you stand up and run to the kitchen to get a glass of water. You quickly pour it and hopped back to him.

He immediately backed away when you stepped closer than you were before, “it’s just water I’m sure your throat hurts it’ll help” you reassured him softly, but he was still on edge.

“How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

“Valid question” you reply before taking a sip, “I’m not going to…. poison myself” You steps closer, and he let you. You slowly bring the glass up to his lips and hold it for him to sip the water, “okay good, we’re getting somewhere now” you smile softly as he drank the water greedily.

“Do you want more?” You ask as he finished the glass, and he shook his head no.

He finally put down the knife when you put the glass down on the coffee table and sat next to it, “can I check the stitches?” You asked softly

He didn’t say anything just leaned back and nodded, “what is your name?” You asked softly, “I figured out that you are one of Jake Sully’s children, but my job was not to hunt your family so I.. do not know much many children he has or your names so?”

He took a beat not saying anything only look at your face as you lifted the bandage carefully to check his stitches, “Neteyam. I am the oldest of four. Why are you helping me again?” He asked as he screws his face.

Neteyam. The name suited him, it was strong, clipped, almost regal in a way.

“I just didn’t want to let you die Neteyam. And it is nice to meet you; my name is Y/n” you said with small smile which he just nodded to.

“The oldest huh?” You echoed as you fixed the bandage and let go of it. “That explains the attitude.”

He huffs softly. Not quite a laugh but close.

His chin shifts slightly, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing it just makes sense” you smirk lightly.

He doesn’t answer at first you can feel the stare and you look right back at him, direct eye contact.

“I don’t trust you” he mutters still looking at you.

Softly you replied, “I didn’t ask you too”

“I’m not staying here”

His voice is rough, determined as he swings his legs off the couch and sit up. His teeth gritted as he pushed himself upright. Quickly you caught his elbow and arm to stabilize him.

“Don’t be stupid, your rip your stitches” you said firmly.

“Better than being a captive” he shoots back.

He stands barely, swaying on his feet. One of his hands actually grabbed yours to help stabilize himself since you raised with him. You catch his shoulder before his knees could buckle.

“You’re not a captive” you say through gritted teeth, “and your heavy you know”

“No? Then why am I still breathing?”

You hold him steady in front of you and as predicted he was at least a foot taller than you, so you had to look up at him. His breathing was shallow.

“Because I didn’t let you die. How much times will we need to go through this before you hear me?” You say quietly.

There’s a long beat before he lets you guide him back to sit with a grunt.

“I need to clean off this blood” he gestures to the dried blood you didn’t get to properly clean.

“Ok, but you can’t bath yet, you need to keep the wound dry for the next day or two before you can wet the area”

He cuts your off with a glare, “Then how am I meant to clean myself? I’m not sitting here covered in blood like some helpless thing”

You nod slowly, “you're not, but right now you’re not exactly invincible”

He doesn’t say anything just settles back with a frustrated hiss. The weight of everything that happened pressed on him all at once, the wound, the blood, your presence. He hated this.

“You cannot take a real bath yet, but you can take a sponge bath. I’ll just bring the bowl with warm water and a sponge. It’ll help” you suggest softly.

“I don’t need-” he started flatly before you cut him off.

“You don’t have to let me do it. I’ll just bring it for you. You’ll clean what you can reach”

He stares at you for a beat too long, his expression never gave away any feeling he had about you. Then finally, he nodded slightly, “fine” he said begrudgingly.

Without another word you move to the kitchen to get a bowl of hot water and a clean sponge. Behind you his shoulders relaxed just a bit, enough to show he was opening up to the idea of letting you help him settle, even if he won’t admit it yet.

You return with the bowl filled with water and a clean cloth, “I’ll be right back” you put it in the coffee table and run upstairs for a towel for him to dry off with after.

You run back down the stairs, and he was already wiping the blood off his body with the cloth, “you can dry off the water with this after” I say softly and drop the towel next to him. The steam from the water curls softly in the cool air.

Neteyam shifts when he sees you sit down by the bend of the couch; he eyed you wearily. “Do you always watch your patients so closely?”

“You’re not my patient. Just a guy who was casually dying on what I’m sure what a hard, uncomfortable rock” a smirk tugs the corner of your lips.

“Feels like I’m under a microscope” he grunted faintly, as he shifts positions slightly to clean as much of himself as he can.

“Don’t flatter yourself” you say teasingly before you turn away to give him som privacy.

That draws a low chuckle, if was unexpected but real. When you glance over half of his was clean, slick from the water, shining in the dim cabin light. He catches your eye but doesn’t look away.

His gaze isn’t soft, it’s sharp, searching. As if he’s looking for a reason in your expression that’ll tell him whether or not he should trust you.

“What are you looking for?” He asked you in a deep voice.

You blink surprised by the question, “I wasn’t….looking for anything”

He huffs softly, almost a scoff, “everyone’s always looking for something”

“Then maybe I’m not everyone” you say steadily.

His eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger but studying, testing.

“That’s what worries me”

You lean back against the couch watching him without flinching, “I didn’t drag you away from the edge of death to hurt you now.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t” he says flatly.

You nod softly accepting his truth, “then keep your knife close, and don’t rip your stitches and bleed on my couch” I smirk at him.

His lip twitches barely, and for the first time the tension shifts, or doesn’t fade just changes shape.

“Do you need help now? I can clean up the wound on your back” you offer softly.

You can tell he doesn’t want to say yes but there is no way he can reach without hurting himself, so he nods holding the cloth out in your direction.

You take it into your hand and walk around the couch, “lean up a bit?” You press your hand softly on his shoulder pushing him forward as you make quick and gentle work cleaning up the dry blood from his back.

“Your hair has blood in it too, when you can bath properly you should loosen your braids out and wash it” you say softly.

“I will” he grunted.

After I was finished, I let him lean back against the couch once more, “there you should feel a bit cleaner now”

You move to start another fire considering it gets quite cold where the cabin was. The fire crackled softly in the hearth. You went to the kitchen and returned with a small bowl of broth and a cup of warm tea. Neteyam still sitting up on the couch with the blanket now dropped over his shoulders watches you with weary eyes. You put the bowl down him front him wordlessly, settling beside him again.

“Figured you could use something warm” you say softly.

He hesitates before he picks it up with a grunt of thanks. He brings the bowl up to his lips and sips the hot broth, completely ignoring the spoon you put down next to the bowl for him to use. His ears perk up and his tail raises and hits the couch with a small thump.

He masks his reaction once more even though you already caught it and was slightly smiling at the fact he liked it. “Not bad…for a sky person”

“Careful, that almost sounded like a compliment” you smirk at him.

A faint twitch of a smile tugs at his lips but it fades quickly. He shifts; his eyes fixed on the fire a few feet in front of him, “why are you out here alone?”

You thought for a second, “it wasn’t really the plan, just ended up this way.” You look around the cabin, taking in the decor and feeling of the space.

Silence stretches before he says, “you’re still with the RDA”

That wasn’t a question. You nod slowly, “I…work for the RDA. Doesn’t mean I agree with everything they do. But it’s not my decision to make” I shrug softly.

“That’s easy to say when you're not the one being hunted.”

The edge in his voice makes you pause before you nod again, he was right, “don’t worry, this place is a secret, only two people on this moon ever knew about it. One of them is dead and the other is..me. So, I can say I’m sure your safe. And now well, you know about it.”

He looks at you sharply, surprised by your lack of defense. For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then, he shifts slightly closer, eyes flickering over your features, your hands, your eyes, mouth now and then when he thinks your not looking but you notice.

“You speak English very well” you say breaking the silence tilting your head slightly.

His expression doesn’t change much, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, pride?

“My parents taught me. I pay attention” he replied quietly.

He paused then adds with a sharper edge, “why? Are your surprised a savage can speak your mother tongue?”

His words weren’t angry, but they were not soft either. He looked at you as if he was testing you.

“You are no savage, that much I’m sure off” you say softly to him, “but I guess I am surprised, I wouldn’t expect your parents to want you to know anything from the sky people.”

Neteyam tilted his head slightly, his gaze was sharp.

“My father was one of the sky people. The clan trust and follows him.” He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Learning the language wasn’t about wanting, it was about understand the enemy.” He clarified with pride.

“That’s smart” you nod with understanding, “you can’t beat someone if you don’t understand them”

Neteyam doesn’t smile but his eyes stayed locked in yours, unreadable, “do not mistake understanding for trust, I’ve seen what your people are capable of. I will not forget”

“You shouldn’t, your people had suffered a great deal and I’m sorry, even though I know my apologies for it don’t mean anything. It was…avoidable” you say softly.

He stares for another long moment, taking in what you said before he responds.

“You are right it doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t change anything” he shifts slight putting down the now empty bowl, “I’m still here injured because of people like you.”

“I agree my people did this, but can we also agree I’ve done nothing but help you since I’ve…saw you? Maybe all humans aren’t…that bad?” You say almost hopefully as if one conversation could change his perspective on you. Maybe he’d stop grouping you with those who want to hurt them, those who murder.

He took another second before answering, he clearly didn’t want got admit it just like he didn’t want to trust you, “you’re right, you did help me. You could have let me die but you didn’t”

“I can’t say I like the position I’m in now however, unfamiliar place, unfamiliar enemy which is very contradictory considering it was the enemy who saved my life. I do not want to feel like I owe you something for that”

Neteyam was nothing if he wasn’t head strong, but you did understand where he was coming from.

“You don’t owe me anything, I don’t want anything from you. You don’t trust me, I can feel it, in the way you look at me like you’re waiting for me to prove your distrust right”

You exhale before glancing down at your blue hands, it was a lovely shade, but it definitely wasn’t human. Your gaze shift to your tail, something so unnatural to you before you got used to this new body.

“I am like the man who is hunting your father. I’m sure you’ve seen him, maybe you’ve even fought him. This body, this life. It is permanent” you start softly. “I was so good at fighting as a human than the RDA just chose me to be…this.” You gesture to your body

“And that means I live here and will die on Pandora one day and become apart of this moon” you look back to him. “I wouldn’t survive very long if all I did was flight your people, so I’m just trying to live peacefully too”

Neteyam’s eyes stay on yours, you see the flicker of uncertainty shift in them. “You speak like you want to understand what it is like to be na’vi”

He was clearly skeptical as he continued, “many have come and said the same, words are easy, they said they wanted to learn, to be peaceful. But they lied and they invaded and took what they wanted disturbing the balance that Eywa has given us. No patience, no understanding, no care for what they were destroying.”

Your ears pinned down not knowing what to say, it honestly hadn’t hit you how disruptive humans had been for the na’vi. You never had all that much interaction with them simply because that wasn’t your job. You were about to say something, but he beat you too it.

“But you saved my life and gave me food and water, helped me cleaned my wounds. It was more than I was expecting from a sky person” he added in a softer tone.

The night after that passed. You didn’t want to leave him alone just in case his wound started to bleed again so you stayed sleeping on the smaller side of the couch leaving him on the side he was on. It didn’t take either of you long to fall asleep again since you both were extremely exhausted.

You stir, eyes adjusting to the light streaming in from the gaps in the curtains, you were t sure what time it was, but the sun was high in the sky. The ocean murmured waves crashing against the cliff, distant and soft.

Neteyam was already awake sitting up like he was the night before. He was watching you.

“You didn’t move” his voice was quiet, deep with sleep.

You turn to face him stretching slightly with the blanket still pulled to your neck, “didn’t have to, it’s my couch” you replied softly

He glances around, “right” he says as he leans his head again against the couch.

“How are you feeling?” You ask him tiredly, “any better than yesterday?”

“Considering I just got shot, I’d say I’m doing fantastic” he replies with sass.

“Don’t sass me bro.” You say as you raise your hand up making a stop gesture before you push the blanket off and stand-up walking over to him.

Neteyam watches you, his body tensing slightly as you step closer, “what are you doing?”

“Well. I was going to check your wound is that okay?” You yawn.

He nodded and didn’t move as you sat on the coffee table in front of him. Your body didn’t touch his, but you still felt the heat it omitted before you pull back the gauze and check the wound, “no sign of infection that’s good.”

“Na’vi are hard to kill” Neteyam says dryly. You look up and his rubbing your lips together to hold in a laugh.

“I’ve noticed.” You smile. “Are you in a lot of pain?” You huff with a smile.

“No, the gaping hole through my chest feels amazing” he exaggerated, “I might go for a jog.”

You snort before you could hold it back turning your mouth to hit your right shoulder in and effort to stop yourself from filling laughing.

“I’m glad your sarcasm is still in tack.” You smile, “but seriously do it hurt a lot?”

He paused for a minute, “it hurts yes, but I can breathe better than I could yesterday” he answers quietly.

“I have and antibiotic cream, it’ll help a bit with the pain, and prevent infection. I’ll change your bandages too. But overall, you are healing faster than I expected”

I get up and walk over to the medical supply cabinet and take out a couple fresh bandages and the antibiotic cream.

I walk back over to him and clean up around the wound before I apply the cream and cover it with the new bandages.

“What can I say I’m impressive even half-dead. Thought I’d be more dramatic about it?” Neteyam tilted his head with a crooked grin.

You shake your head with a smile. “You were dramatic, you bled on my couch”

“This is the first time I got shot, I had to make an entrance” he shrugged softly as you finished changing his bandages. He’s ears flicker slightly when he got a laugh out of you, it felt strange to him, was he proud? He’d made many women laugh in the past it wasn’t something he found difficult, but this situation was different. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about it.

You brought over a glass of water for him which he took sipping slowly until he finished while you walked back to the kitchen to start making breakfast. Neteyam couldn’t see you now, since the couch faced away from the kitchen but towards the tv and fireplace that had long burned out.

“Why is it so dark in here?” He asked over his shoulder noting all the closed curtains, no natural light coming into the room.

“Uh well that’s cause the blinds are closed, it’s still pretty early.” You say as you begin to dig around for something Neteyam might eat, you settle on some meat you had frozen from the last time RDA went hunting and eggs with some fruit.

“It feels like a cave” he adjusted himself to sit more comfortably on the couch looking around the room like he’s been doing since you brought him there.

You shrugged, “you want sun? I’ll open the blinds. Just don’t hips at it.”

A soft grunt passed his lips, was it amusement? Annoyance? Hard to say. “I’m not a wild animal.”

You arch a brow, even though you knew he couldn’t see you while you cracked the egg into the pan, “could’ve fooled me, the way you growled at me last night” you blow raspberries into the air in exaggeration.

He didn’t answer right away, then muttered, “still deciding if you’re prey.”

You glance over your shoulder at the back of his head before turning back, “let me know before breakfast, yeah? I’d rather not waste eggs.”

He shifted until he had turned enough to see you in the kitchen leaning against the side of the couch instead, adjusting the blanket over his lap se the smell of sizzling food drifted from the small kitchen space.

“You always cook with the lights off?” He called out, voice dry. “Or is this just part of the ambiance, ‘half dead guest special?”

You glance back at him with a smirk, “maybe I like a little mystery while I make breakfast”

He raised a brow, “Mystery? Smells like you’re trying to resurrect me with a frying pan and vibes.”

You snorted, “well, it’s workin, isn’t it?”

He reclined a little deeper into the couch, eyes tracking you as you move around the kitchen, “barely, is this is your version of hospitality, remind me not to get shot again.”

“Ungrateful” you muttered softly but you know he heard.

I put two plates down on the kitchen table with food on it, untie your apron and put it on the kitchen counter before walking over to the couch and standing next to him. “Come on, you’re not eating on my couch.”

He looked up at you clearly unimpressed. “What, you don’t do room service out here in the middle of nowhere?”

You cross your arms, “you’re lucky I don’t drag you.

He huffed a short laugh but didn’t move, “tempting. But if I get hurt again, that’s on you.”

You help out your hand, firm but patient, “I stitched you up, fed you, and let you sass me from my own couch. Don’t make me add dragging you to the table to the list.”

Neteyam groaned. More for show than pain, “I got shot in the chest not the legs” he muttered stubbornly.

“Yeah, and I’d rather not watch you fall on your face trying to prove yourself” you shot back.

He sighed through his nose and hold onto you to help him stand up. He wrapped his heavy large arm over your shoulder and you wrap an arm around his slim waist. Being careful not to let him fall. His body was warm, solid, but tense under your touch.

As he stood, he hissed slightly but didn’t complain. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m letting your help me because I’m being polite.”

You smirked. “Wow. So this is you being polite?”

His lip twitched but he didn’t answer, just leaned a little more of his weight into you as you walked.

You both take it once step at a time until you made it to the kitchen table, you switched on the warm yellow light ver the table to illuminate the space after he sat down, then you sat down in the chair next to him at the touch table. He lets out a white breath as he settled in, then looked at the food and raise a brow.

In front him was grilled yerik meat, sliced fruit and some fried eggs, all fresh and local, but not cooked the way he was used to.

Neteyam stared at it, then gave you a look. “What did you do to the poor yerik? Burn it into submission?”

You arch your brow, “it’s grilled. It’s called flavor.”

He picked up a piece with his fingers, inspecting it like it had wronged him, “flavor? My people season with wild herbs. This smells like smoke and… attitude.”

You smirked sarcastically. “Your welcome by the way. I did just slave over that stove for you.”

He bit into it an paused. Then, with a mouthful, mumbled, “could’ve let me die with dignity and decent cooking.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, “you’re lucky your cute-”

You stopped staring down at your food with the fork in your hand and wide eyes, realizing what you let slip out, but it was too late.

Neteyam raised a brow, grinning like he had just won something. “Lucky I’m what?”

You roll your eyes, “nothing” you say casually.

“Oh no, please,” he leaned forward, still chewing, “tell me again how lucky I am because I’m cute.”

You mumbled, “I said no such thing.”

He smirked, pointing his fork that he clearly wasn’t using at you, “to late. I’m wounded and cute. Deadly combination.”

You cross your arms and leans back in your chair, “you’re wounded, picky, and have the ego of a war chief. Cute isn’t a word I’d use.”

Neteyam grinned, unfazed. “Ah, so, now I’m a war chief. First cute, now powerful. Keep going, I, enjoying this.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t flatter yourself, forest prince. I’ve seen yerik with better manners.”

He let out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically, careful to avoid the bandage. “You wound me again. Truly your hospitality knows no bounds.”

He took a bite of the eggs, nodding in exaggerated approval, “could use a little salt. But I’ll survive. Barely. Thanks to your tender, smocking-hot…grill.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You were about to say something else.”

He smirked, licking his fingers, “was I? You’re imagining things, must be that flustered energy coming off you.”

You grab a napkin and tossed it at his face, “eat your food before I decide you’re strong enough to cook your own damn breakfast tomorrow”

He caught the napkin with ease chuckling. “So violent for someone so nurturing, you sure you’re not falling for me?”

You lean forward slightly, “remember last night when you threatened to stab me? Why would I be falling for you? And even if I did, you’d be the last to know”

Neteyam tilted his head, eyes gleaming with challenges. “We’ll see about that.”

Once breakfast was finished and you’d both finished eating, you stood up taking the dishes to the sink to start cleaning up. Neteyam leaned back in his chair, watching you move around the kitchen with an unreadable expression.

“You always take care of strangers like this?” He asked, voice a little quieter now, less teasing.

You gave him a glance over your shoulder, “only ones who bleed on my grass, and my floors and my couch” you sigh.

He snorted, shaking his head, then slowly he stood, clearly regaining his strength. It was amazing how quickly he was starting to recover from his near death experience. You wondered if all the na’vi are this vigilant or if he was just some kind of invincible warrior.

“Well, guess I’m special huh?”

“Let’s not go so far,” you turn to watch him slowly walk up to you with a smirk, only looking away when he was holding onto the counter beside you.

He came over, still cautious with his movements, and put his weight on his stronger arm against the counter. His shoulder slight bumped yours. “And here I thought we were bonding over bad eggs and near-death experiences”

You turned off the water and whipped your hands on a hand towel, “first of all, my eggs are fucking good. And we’ll see how you feel once you me helped clean up.”

He raised his brow bone. “You want me to clean? With a bullet hole in my chest?”

“You’ve got one good arm,” you said sweetly, handing him the towel.

He took it with exaggerated effort and put it down on the counter next to him, “cruel woman, you mean the arm holding me up from falling right now?”

“Survivors don’t get lazy” you replied before nudging him with your elbow.

The water poured over your head in a steady stream, steam curling around your shoulders as you pressed your hands to the cool tile wall. You had come in here to clear your head to wash off the lingering tension, the ache from sleep, and that buzz you couldn’t quite explain.

But it wasn’t working.

It was him.

Neteyam.

He hadn’t done a thing that morning. Hadn’t lifted a finger to help with breakfast, just stayed on the couch, arms crossed behind his head, half-lidded eyes watching the ceiling like he was bored out of his mind.

But you’d felt him watching you. Every time you turned your back. Every time you bent over or shifted. You could feel his gaze trailing along your spine like a hand that never touched. And when he did speak, his voice it wasn’t fair.

Deep. Smooth. Rich like the forest after rain.

And the way he moved…

You tilted your head back, letting the hot water roll down your chest. You didn’t mean to think about him, didn’t mean to notice, but the memory crept in anyway. The way his muscles flexed when he shifted on the couch, chest bandaged but firm and defined beneath it. The long lines of his legs, the stripes along his skin, the faint shimmer that came from the damp heat of the room the night before.

He looked powerful. And wild. And wounded.

And too damn beautiful to be real.

Your hand moved over your stomach absentmindedly, as if trying to soothe the way it fluttered. His face was still sharp in your mind those eyes, so full of suspicion, but never dull. They were intense. Too intense. Looking at you like you were a threat, like you were a puzzle, like maybe just maybe you were something else entirely.

intense. Too intense. Looking at you like you were a threat, like you were a puzzle, like maybe just maybe you were something else entirely.

You caught yourself.

Fingers tightened on the tile. “Get a grip,” you whispered, letting the water pelt down harder, trying to drown the thoughts before they spiraled any further.

You weren’t supposed to feel anything about him. He was a wounded Na’vi. You were a human permanently stuck in your avatar. And this wasn’t safe for either of you.

But still…

Your mind slipped again to the low rumble of his laugh, the accidental flash of a smile when he’d said something cocky the night before. The way his ears twitched when he heard a bird outside. The curve of his collarbone where the bandage didn’t reach.

You exhaled sharply and turned the water to cold.

It didn’t help it’s only been one day, was it even possible to be so infatuated with someone so quickly. You almost started to wonder what he thought about you, but quickly you turned off the shower and got out before you could. That wouldn’t help you.

The days that followed passed in a strange quite rhythm, like a clam between storms. The atmosphere had started to shift. The first few days remained mostly on the couch downstairs, watchful, cautious, sharp-tongued. But he was healing much faster than you had predicted, the resilience of his na’vi physiology steadily outpacing your human expectations. The deep bruising had faded, the wound closing up quickly but not quite done yet, and by the forth day, he could walk without leaning in you to heavily.

It didn’t stop him from making a show of his independence thought. He still tossed sass like it was a defense mechanism. When you tired to help him, he’d mutter sarcastic little jabs, never cruel, just enough to challenge you. “I’m fine” he’d say with a dry smirk, wincing slightly as he tested his own limits. “I didn’t get hit by a Tobruk, jus a little bullet.” You were leaning to match his tone, finding his attitude oddly endearing. His wit had a heat to it that made the air feel thicker whenever he looked at you too long.

He had taken to calling you “princess,” the word always dripping with a kind of teasing bite the made your brow twitch and your stomach flutter all at once. “Whatever you say princess,” he’d say whenever you told him to stop overdoing it or remind him to drink water. He knew exactly how it landed, half mocking, half flirtation, and the glint in his eyes afterward said he enjoyed pushing your buttons. You pretended to be annoyed, but a part of you didn’t mind. Not one bit.

By the fifth night he moved upstairs choosing the spare room beside yours. You offered it out of practicality, but when you heard him quietly testing the floorboards and settling into the room, your realized how aware you were of his presence, just on the other side of the wall, the door between your rooms stayed closed but it might as well have been paper. It was like he couldn’t sleep, he was restless in the room. It was off putting considering when you both slept on the couch, he slept like a log. The entire night would go off without a hitch he slept peacefully. When you’d awake in the night hearing noises outside he didn’t even flinch.

Every creek, every low sigh through the walls, every time he got up and strolled into your room to use the master bathroom quietly padding across the room, it made your skin prickle.

You didn’t know why he used your bathroom. Even after he was strong enough to manage the one in the hallway. You told yourself it was cleaner and better stocked, but the first time you found a fresh towel slightly damp on the rack after he’d finished and the mirror and shower glass fogged up, you had to turn away to cool your thoughts.

That morning, you’d tried to think about besides him while your showered, but the ghost of his voice, low, rough and accented, it stayed with you. It was the way he said your name. The way his golden eyes held your gaze a beat too long sometimes. The way his body looked in the borrowed avatar clothing you had stored away in a box in an used spare room, how they hugged his lean farm just a little too perfectly, especially when damp from a shower or stuck to his back with sweat from walking the hill path behind the cabin to gain his strength.

You never meant to notice, but it happened anyways. The ripple of his stomach when he stretched, sometimes when it pecked out from under the t-shirt he wore. The way his hair was now loose from braids when he had washed it, how it looked falling down his shoulder since he didn’t bother to braid them again yet. The strength in his arms when he lifted a bracket of fruit, the sound of him cleaning his throat or chuckling to himself in the other room, it was all in your head now. Looped on repeat.

You really tried not to think about him in those clothes, the meaning behind them almost set your skin on fire but you had nothing else to give me. It didn’t hit you right away, only the night he sat on the couch some old tv show idly playing in front of your both. He noticed your shift in demeanor but he decided now wasn’t the time to question it.

By day, he explored small distances, pushing his limits while pretending he wasn’t. You caught him standing out by the cliff more than once, just staring at the horizon, lost in thought. It surprised you when you saw your fired ikran sitting next to him like he had no care in the world, it wasn’t something he did often with people.

‘He must be thinking about his family’ you thought to yourself.

Arms wrapped around yourself you walked out and sat on the other side of him, “are you alright?”

He seemed to have not even noticed your steps towards him until you say down and he gave you a glance, “yea, just thinking about my family.”

You didn’t say anything, you weren’t sure what to say. So you stayed quiet. You watched pat your ikran on the head slightly, “he likes you” you say softly. “His name is Leo.”

“He is beautiful, his patterns is very unique almost like flowers”

“I know he’s my babe he’s gorgeous” I smile. “What about yours?”

“Her name is Seze, after my mothers first sprit sister, I heard the stories and they just match, the name, the colors. She is strong.”

“Like her sprit brother?”

He turned his head to look at you and you looked back at him, “you are very strong too” I look down at his chest before my eyes dart back up to his.

“Not like her.”

“Maybe not, but it is a fact Neteyam” you say confidently.

Sometimes he’d sit in the sunlight filtering through the window, sharpening the blade of the same knife you found on his hip on the first day you met him, using a rock he decided to casually bring inside and left it on the floor in one specific spot for this reason only. It was not a multipurpose rock and you were not allowed to touch it. You tired throwing it back outside but he just brought it back in.

So you let him, it gave him peace. But occasionally, he’d catch you looking and a faint smirk would lift the corner of his lips, “didn’t think the sky people taught staring as a skill” he once said. You snapped back with, “only when the view’s worth it” before realizing how flirtatious it sounded. He didn’t comment just raised his brow bone and looked amused.

By night the two of you developed a routine, you’d make simple meals from what you could forgave from the garden outside, any kind of fresh fruit or vegetable along with whatever your already had in the kitchen or fridge, local meat, roots, tart fruits that stained your fingers purple, and he’d tease your cooking even as he cleared his plated. One night, you asked if he wanted to help and he responded, “you’ve got the knife skills and I’ve got the survival instinct. Let’s not blur the line just yet.” You laughed. So did he. A real one, short and genuine.

Still the boundary was clear. He didn’t trust easily, and you didn’t push him. But there was an undercurrent, a quiet shift in energy each time you passed each other in the hallways or stood too close in the kitchen. You felt it in the subtle way he watched your when he thought you didn’t notice, or in the way his voice softened ever so slightly when you two talked late into the night. You didn’t touch him, not really. Not unless you were redressing his wounds or moments when your hand brushed, when you helped him steady himself, his fingers lingered in your arm just a second longer that necessary.

You didn’t want to say what any of that meant since you didn’t know yourself, not yet. But it was something. Something you were starting to feel under your skin like a pulse.

It’s been almost two weeks now, Neteyam has healed amazingly quick, his skin had returned back to its normal color where he had bruising, anywhere he had gonna scraps had healed up and mostly disappeared.

This afternoon, the sun had just dipped low enough to turn the ocean gold, you were both sitting on the porch. You in a big weaved cushioned chair and him leaning on the raining like he belonged there.

“You said something the first night” he said, breaking the quiet, his voice was thoughtful, not playful, or teasing. Just real.

You turned towards him, “oh? I say a lot of things.”

He glanced at you, one side of his mouth twitching, “you said you didn’t plan to here here alone”

You stilled. The words you’d almost forgotten came back in full. You hadn’t meant to get into detail, you didn’t even thing he remembered anything from that night. He was in his worst condition, it surprised you.

“I didn’t,” you admitted after a pause. “Not originally.”

“But you do,” he said simply.

You rub your lips together and gave a slow nod, eyes drifting back towards the horizon, “yeah. I do.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before he said, softly, “Why?”

The ocean beyond the cliffs was calm, bathed in soft shades of blue and silver under the planet above. You wrapped your hands around your mug, the warmth grounding you as you look back at him and decided to tell him the truth. You don’t know why you felt like you could trust him, you weren’t even sure he trusted you yet.

“I didn’t build this place to be alone,” you said slowly, your voice barely audible.

Your head tilted down to look at your mug. Neteyam glanced at you, his expression was unreadable, but you didn’t look back yet. Your eyes stayed down, locked on the steam coming from the mug, like it held the courage you needed.

“I came here with someone,” you continued. “My boyfriend. We were both with the RDA both from the navy on earth, so we both got avatars. We were in different squads. He was on land and I was stationed in the ocean.” You sniffle softly from the cold. “We talked about a future here, once the politics and field work was over. The cabin was going to be home. Our home, forever.”

Your swallow, your throat tight. The words hurt, not because they were hard to say but because they still felt so real, like they’d only just slipped through your fingers.

“Before they transfer your consciousness into your avatar permanently, you go through a series of test using the link machine.” You explain. “He died a year ago, one minute he was next to me, the next he was gone. Something with his link upload they said it didn’t…work the way it was supposed to, I still don’t know why. . No warning, no goodbye, I saw his avatar laying on the cot like a shell the next morning and that was it.”

Neteyam’s face tensed, and this time you did glance at him, his eyes met yours, wide with the kind of pain only someone who’s lost can recognize.

“I stayed,” you went on, a crack sneaking into your voice. “Everyone thought I was crazy for not going back to earth. But I couldn’t, we built this place. Every beam, every stone, I wasn’t ready to let go of it, or him and he uh…he’s buried in pandora, I’m not gonna just, leave him here.”

Silencer bloomed between you again, thick and pulsing. You didn’t try to fill it, you let it breathe.

After a long moment, Neteyam spoke quietly, sincerely.

“That must’ve shattered you.”

You exhaled shakily, “it did.”

He looked away for a second struggling with something in himself. Then, voice low, “I know what it feels like. That kind of loss. Like a piece of you is just… missing.”

You nodded, and for the first time since the conversation started you smiled softly.

“Some days it still feels like I. Waiting for him to walk through that door. But lately… I don’t know. It’s not as loud.

Neteyam looked back at you. “And now your sharing it with a stranger you dragged up a cliff.”

A breath of laughter escaped your chest, a wet sound edged with emotion. “Your not a stranger anymore. I’ve known you two whole weeks now.” You joke.

He didn’t answer right away, but the look in his eyes softened just enough. The walls between you didn’t fall, but one of them cracked.

You hesitated before speaking again, your voice softer now, almost like you were afraid of saying too much, but unable to stop.

“We were gonna have kids.” You gave a small breathy laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “That’s why there are so many rooms in this house. He thought three was a good number. But I wasn’t sure, we were excited. Carved out everything room by room.”

Neteyam came to sit next to you in the chair.

“I remember … we even argued about which room would be the nursery,” you said with a wistful smile. “He wanted the one that got the morning sun, but I said it’ll be to warm. I wanted it to be the one closest to the master bedroom, the one you’re seeking in.” You look over at him.

“Really?”

You nodded, “yeah. That was the one he lost the argument over. Said the morning sun would make it feel alive, but I didn’t care, I wanted the baby close”

Neteyam looked up at the sky, picturing the room he’s sleeping in then shot you a crooked smile, “well, I don’t cry that often, and I sleep through the night, so I’d say I’m a pretty low-maintenance baby.”

You blink, looking at him, before you let out a laugh, a short and real, surprised by the way his joke cracked through the heaviness like sunlight cutting through the clouds. “Wow” you paused, “you are not low maintenance”

He turned towards you, feigning offense, “excuse me?”

You lean back in the seat with a knowing look. “You drink all my tea and still complain about it, you steal my shower, my shampoo and conditioner. You sulk like it’s an art form. And don’t get me started on how much space you take up on that couch.”

He blinked, the leaned closer a little, his tone playful. “I get shot once and suddenly I’m high maintenance?”

You have him a mock serious look, “shot once, hijacked my nursery, and now you think you’re a resident.”

His smirk grew into a grin, “I didn’t realize sarcasm was your love language”

“Good thing it’s fluent in yours too,” you shot back.

The air between you shifted again, still teasing, still playful, but there was something in the pause afterwards. Like neither of you really wanted the conversation to end.

Neteyam’s grin lingered, but something about it sharpened at the edges, turned a little slower, a little more deliberate. His eyes didn’t leave yours.

“Is that what his is then?” He asked, voice dropping just a touch, less teasing now, more curious. “You giving me a hard time because your like me?”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head, “don’t flatter yourself.”

His gaze dropped briefly to your mouth before netting your eyes again, bolder this time, “you don’t deny it either.”

Neteyam’s smirk curled slow, like he knew something you don’t when you didn’t answer, maybe he was daring you to say it out loud, “you say I’m not low maintenance” his voice rich with amusement, “but you haven’t kicked me out yet.”

You raise an eyebrow, lip twitching, “that’s because you’re injured and I’m a good person.”

He leaned in more just slightly, his tone low and teasing. “Nah, I think you like having me around.”

You shot him a sideways glance. “Don’t let that compliments go to your head.”

“They already have,” he said with a lazy grin, eyes flickering again down to your lips then back up, he added, “not my fault you keep giving me reasons.”

Your pulse shattered. There it was again, that magnetic tension he slipped into so effortlessly when the sad turned flirt. You crossed your arms, trying to maintain the upper hand.

“You are a menace” you said, but your voice lacked heat.

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “Maybe, but I’m your menace now, right?”

Your mouth opened but nothing came out. You hated how much that line hit, how it made heat crawl up the back of your neck. He chuckled softly at your silence, clearly pleased with himself.

“See? You like me.”

“Remind me to lace your tea with sleeping herbs next time.”

“Still means I get tea.” He winked.

Your breath caught, and your weren’t sure if it was from frustration or something else entirely, something warmer, heavier and far more dangerous.

“You know,” you said, voice careful, “for someone who acts so suspicious of me, your sure don’t mind pushing your luck.”

He didn’t look away, “you’ve been staring at me since the night I was passed out on that couch. Don’t pretend I’m the only one.”

You snorted softly, trying to laugh it off, “you’re half-naked most of the time even though I’ve given you clothes, I’m not blind.”

“No” he said voice lower now, more certain. “But your are pretending not to want what you want.”

That hit like a spark on dry grass. Immediate. Dangerous. You could feel the flush creeping up on your neck before you could stop it. You lean back slightly forcing some air into your lung.

“What exactly are you suggesting?”

He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth tugging into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but wasn’t far off. “I’m not suggesting anything. Just saying you look at me like you’ve got questions only your hands can answer.”

Your stomach did flips. He was too close to that truth but he wants to be bold, you can be bold too.

“And what if I do?” You asked, voice soft but defiant, “you gonna let me ask them?”

Neteyam through his weight in his elbow that sat between you both in the backrest of the chair getting closer to you, “only if you’re ready for the answers.”

Your mug hit the side table and your turn your body to face him, you felt warm, your heart was beating too hard. You didn’t say anything right away. Neteyam was still, watching you like you were prey. Only this time you weren’t prey. Not tonight.

“You talk a lot for someone who doesn’t trust me,” you said your voice low as your eyes dragged over him, over the lines of his shoulders, the bandage on his chest, the slight smirk that hadn’t left his face, “and you never stop looking either.”

He leaned back slightly, eyes locked on yours. “I never said I didn’t like what I saw.”

You didn’t even hesitate, you leaned in lifting your hand until your fingers curled into the base of his hair at the nape of his neck. His breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

“Nice try, forest boy” you whispered, voice velvet and laced with amusement. “You couldn’t handle all this.”

Your lips were close enough that the brushed the curve of his jaw as you pulled away, just barely, just enough to see the slow, dangerous smirk that unfurled on his face.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and hungry but playful, sharp like he was weighing your challenge. “Is that a date?” He murmured, his voice was thick with heat and barely restrained ego.

You gave him a slow taunting once over. “It’s a fact.”

He laughed, low, deep and cocky as hell. “Bold words from someone who keeps looking at me like I’m dessert.”

You raise an eyebrow, smile curling. “Please. If I wanted you, you’d know it.”

His smirk deepened, and his voice dropped lower as he replied, “good thing I don’t wait for invitations”

The air between the thickened, neither of them spoke. The space that separated them seemed to disappear with every breath, their gaze locked in a quiet challenge. Not having any move restraint, Neteyam closed the gap, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was everything they both had been trying to ignore.

It was slow at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. His hand that once rested between you on the backrest now gripping the back of your hair. Your own hands falling down his neck to his chest being careful not to touch the bandages. You kissed him back, your pulse quickening. Feeling that weight if the moment.

The kiss deepened and the world outside the cabin disappeared. It was just them, locked in this electrifying connection, both of them eager to see just how far this could go.

But then he stopped. He pulled back, his breath shallow as he looked at you. His golden eyes searched your face, not for permission, he already had that, but for something steadier, safer, maybe something that said this is okay.

You exhaled, almost laughing under your breath at how fast your pulse had jumped. “Well,” you said, your voice low but teasing, “that was either a thank you or you’re really bad at asking for a second helping.”

Neteyam cracked a small grin, still a little dazed but hiding it under bravado. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, tilting his head. “I just wanted to prove you talk too much.”

You raised a brow, smirking. “And that was your plan?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” he shot back, voice warm, full of something light but laced with tension, even now, part of him wanted to lean in again.

The air between you was warm, charged again but no longer heavy. This time, you leaned in first just a little and said, “Maybe next time you should prove it without using your mouth.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head, eyes flicking down to your lips and back up. “Noted,” he murmured.

But neither of you moved to break the closeness, letting the night wrap around them, full of things unspoken, and things not entirely undone.

The air was cooler tonight, a light breeze had you shivering, something he took notice too. “Let’s go inside” he said softly standing and holding out a hand for you. You take it and let him lean you into the cabin locking the door behind you.

You walk into the kitchen first and he follows you, the warm light spilling from the ceiling fixtures brushing over your skin, grounding you again in the quiet house. You didn’t hear him behind you, you only turned and saw him there his larger frame leaning against the counter. He steels in slowly, deliberately, his eyes in you.

He didn’t say a word a first just came closer and closer. His arm wrapped around you brushing against your lower back, it was gentle but firm enough to draw you closer. The air between you sparked again and you didn’t back away from him, neither did he.

You leans up and kiss him this time, deeper, more controlled you both knew you wanted this now, there were no nerves, no hesitation.. His hands cradled your waist fingers splaying under your shirt against your skin. The way your body molded against him as if you had belonged there and neither of your realized until now.

Your hands move from his arms to his chest accidentally pressing around the bandage that covered his wound. He flinched, barely but it was enough for you to pull away instantly.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, trying to catch you breath but your brows were furrowed in concern, you didn’t want to hurt him. Your thumb brushed over the bandage softly the where you pressed against him. “I didn’t meant to-”

“It’s okay,” he said hoarsely, eyes closed for a second. “Just… not all the way healed yet.”

“No I know I’m sorry” your hands run up his neck holding him there. It’s clear the touch hurt him more than he’d like to admit, it wasn’t weakness you saw from him so you never understood why he hid his pain like that. “Neteyam…” you whisper his name softly.

“Tsal lu tam” one of his hands found yours and he held it as if to reassure you. You’re not sure if he realized but it was the first time Neteyam had spoken his mother tongue since he’s been in here. It sounded so different, so natural to him. You had no idea what he said but he caught your attention.

You look up at him as he catches his breath dulling the pain he had just felt. The heat between you had also dulled, tempered by the reminder of his injury.

“You’re healing fast” you say softly to him “but not that fast.”

You both still stood close, too close. He let out a low breath, nose nearly brushing yours, “it is ok” he translated without you even having to ask.

“This…doesn’t mean I don’t want to,” he said, his voice rough, tinged with frustration.

“I know, me too.” You whispered, eyes flickering over his face.

You stood for a while bodied warm, breath shared, but you both knew they crossed that next line now, with him not being fully healed, and you being apart of a completely different world. So much could go wrong now. His hand lingered a second longer before he let go.

The next few days blurred into a rhythm that felt dangerously close to domesticity, dangerous, because it felt too good with him.

Neteyam’s wound was nearly closed up now, it was almost supernatural the way he bounded back, just soreness in his chest mostly since it was almost time for you to remove the stitches that made him stiff at times.

It didn’t stop him from brushing up against him, whether it was walking past you and letting his hand graze your waist. Or standing behind you in the kitchen pressing you up against the counter as you made breakfast in the morning, his lips kissing your neck softly as reached for a fruit placing it in front of you to keep you busy so you won’t move. Or pulling you into those long, slow, steamy kisses that always left you weak in the knees, half forgotten that this wasn’t supposed to happen.

There were times your find yourself wrapped up in his strong arms as he held you against him, the press of his mouth hungry but unhurried on anywhere he could reach like he was memorizing you. Other times it was just a look from across the dinning table, a brief brush of fingers together when he held your hand in his, left you breathless.

Still, you both didn’t sleep in the same room at night even though sometimes you’d lay in bed hoping he came to lay with you but you knew that would take you across another line you both shouldn’t be near. It made your heart ache with want and wariness.

What really stuck with you was the day he first kissed you, the day you hurt him accidentally and he slipped his mother tongue. His voice in na’vi stirred something deep. It was so intimate to you, like he let his guard down and he hadn’t realized. He didn’t notice you heard.

But you did and it stuck.

It followed you for the next week or so, no matter how weak Neteyam made you feel on the inside and outside, no matter what you two laughed about, no matter how sweet or what nicknames he called you out of amusement, or attraction. The nagging thought in the back of your mind didn’t leave.

What happens when he leaves?

The question would not be what if, but when. You saved him life, you know who he is, you know he is someone’s son, someone’s brother. And they still think he is dead, and they miss him. He knows he missed them back and you couldn’t put yourself in a position to keep him from his family. It’s just not something you’d do.

He was healing quickly, another week from now he may very well be fully healed. It took you a month to fall for him, it was so easy. What happens when you have to spend the rest of your years alone? Cause in case you forgot the RDA thinks you’re dead too. You are free from them, but you are not accepted anywhere except with then.

It was late in the day when you finally decided to ask him about it. The sun was setting and Neteyam was sitting in the porch swing, shirtless, bandage long gone, his chest more marked only by a scar that caught the light like a whisper of what happened. You know it wouldn’t go away.

You step out with a mug of tea for him, heart pounding in your chest for reason that had nothing to do with the drink in your hand. He looked up when you approached with a smile tugging his lips and warm eyes and you sat next to him handing him the mug. Your shoulders barely touched unlike how you’ve been for the past week and a half. Never without touching.

You both say silently for a few beats watching the wind roll through the trees.

Then, softly you asked him, “do you miss them? Your family, your friends”

Neteyam didn’t look at you right away. He took a slow sip of his tea and let out a long breath. “Every day.”

You nod, the words felt heavy even though you knew the answer. Your fingers play with the sleeves of your sweater. “It’s been almost four weeks now.”

Your eyes meet the horizon, “you’re almost fully healed. Strong. And I know you’ve been thinking about it.” You turn to him, eyes searching his face. “What are you going to do?”

He was quiet for a long time.

You look away staring back at the swaying trees, “when will you go back?”

Finally, Neteyam turned to face you, eyes narrowing slightly, more serious now, “soon” he admitted with no sign of joy in the word. “I have to. They’re probably out of their minds.”

You nod, heart sinking but you press on, “and what happens then?”

“What do you mean?” He tilited his head.

“I mean…” you swallow. “What happens to us? To me?”

His silence stretched again.

“I’m not like you Neteyam” you say, “there is no going back for me. This-” you gesture vaguely towards the house and the land around you, “-this is my life now, I made my lease with it, staying here forever, I though I’d be doing that alone.” You pause. “And don’t misunderstand me, I have no regret saving you. But you’ve made being here alone…harder.”

He blinked slowly, haze softening but he said nothing.

“I want- no I need to know what I am to you. If I’m just a…. chapter, a strong you’ll take home when you leave. Or am I something else?”

Neteyam shifts, setting his tea down. His golden eyes locked on your, and his usually sarcastic sass and humor was gone, replaced by something raw.

He looked at you for a long moment. His face didn’t change by something in his eyes flickered, conflict? Guilt? The weight of something he didn’t know how to say.

He reached for your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles with surprising gentleness, and when he finally spoke, his voice was steady. Painfully steady.

“I never thought I’d be here this long.” He admitted, “at first, I was just trying to survive. But then you, kept helping me and talking to me and letting me stay here. You were so unbelievably to get comfortable with and that’s saying a lot coming from me. We clicked. You made it hard not to care.”

Your chest ached but you didn’t interrupt.

“I didn’t expect you. You were complicated and I never say you coming. Maybe I didn’t want to.” He glanced up.

You tired to breath, but you felt like your ribs couldn’t move.

“I think about you, too” he said, voice softer now. “I watch you when you’re not looking and I remember every word you every whispered in my ear, the way you touch me when you didn’t mean to. Or when you did cause I…” he couldn’t find the right word, maybe he just didn’t want to say it.

A half smile tugged at his lips. Bittersweet.

“But this…us… it’s not that simple.” He whispered

Silence.

“You have made this cabin so domestic and amazing and I’m so grateful to have spent this time with you. You have your roots here. I don’t, and I know you know that.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. You didn’t want to say it aloud.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath was warm between you both. But you couldn’t breathe.

“If I were someone else,” he mumbled, “maybe this could be something simple, easy. But I’m not. I have people waiting for me. I am the first son of Toruk Makto. A war that u walked away from but never stopped being apart of.”

You closed your eyes before you could feel yourself tear up.

“I have to fill a spot that literally no one else can fill. I am a highly skilled, trained warrior. I take down bases single handedly sweetheart. I can’t put this burden on someone else, on my brother. I have a responsibility to my people. To my clan.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

But he already was.

And you both knew it.

Now you’re quite the air between you changed. You shifted slightly back leaning back against the backrest your knee now touching his.

“You always look at me like that” he turned his head, eyes dark, held something you couldn’t figure out.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m staying.”

Your heart skipped, you don’t answer, you can’t.

He leans in just enough for you to feel his warmth again and he pulled you closer. “Come here, look at me” he pulls you in effortlessly.

“You know I want to,” he murmurs. “You feel it too…don’t you?”

And before you can say anything he kisses you. Your legs were thrown over his as he held you close. The kiss was slow, soft, deep. Not rushed this time just full of everything neither of you had said out loud.

His hand comes to rest on your thigh, warm and steady. You lean into him, one hand curling against his chest where his heart thuds strong beneath her palm. The kiss lingers, pulls her under

The swing creaked beneath you both as he picks you up into his lap, not bringing the kiss. You shift in his lap without thinking swinging one leg over to straddle him properly. His hands gripped your waist under your sweater, you could feel the strength in his arms, solid, grounding you.

“You drive me insane,” he mumbled against your lips, voice rough, breath hot. “You shouldn’t… but you do.”

You kiss hind again in answer, hands threading through this hair, tugging gently until he growled low in his throat, his breath fanning across your pulse point.

You barely notice the night air anymore. Your fingers trailed down his chest, feeling the rise and fall of the muscle and warmth, the way he arched into your touch like he couldn’t help it.

“I don’t want to stop.” You whisper, heart pounding.

His hands stilled in her hips, holding her tight, “then don’t.”

You searched his eyes, those amber eyes darkened with desire, with something deeper and say the truth here. Neither of you wanted to stop. Not tonight.

Neteyam held your gaze for only a heartbeat before he wrapped around you picking you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He effortlessly carried you up the stairs to the bedroom. His stride was steady, but urgent like he waited long enough.

Your arms tightened around his shoulders as he climbed, the heat between you growing with every step. You kiss the side of his neck, and he let out a low, strained sound before he finally dropped you onto the bed making your squeal.

“You sure?” He asked, voice a low rasp, his hands flexing as he grabbing your ankles holding your legs up and apart. And you nod without hesitation.

“I want you.” You voice as you pull him down over you for another kiss. Neteyam kissed down your neck hungrily, leaving marks in his wake. His hands had been slowly pushing your sweat up he pushed over your head quickly and tossed it somewhere on the floor.

He raised his head for a beat staring down at how pretty you looked, blush covering your face, hair messy, topless in front of him. Neteyam didn’t waste anytime hooking his fingers in your shorts and patties tugging them down with haste in one swift movement leaving you completely exposed under him.

“Your so pretty, so fucking pretty like this for me” he mumbles as he kisses down your body holding both your touch tits in his hands he licked and sucked at the skin before he flicked his tongue against your right nipple. Your back arched off the bed with a sweet moan which made his tail whip excitedly behind him.

“Fuck..” you whisper, rolling your eyes back and biting your lip at the feeling of his tongue playing with your nipples. Neteyam sucked until he bruised them before he moved down your stomach to your core.

He held your thighs in his hand spreading them open as he looked at the slick leaking out of your weeping hole. He groaned in satisfaction even though he hasn’t even touched you yet, “baby is this for all for me?”

He knew the answer, he knows it’s his. He wants you to say it. “Yes yes…yours Nete” you sing feverishly, anything for him to get down there and make you feel good.

“Yea that’s mine sevin” he called you a name in his mother tongue and you almost rolled your eyes even though you didn’t know what it meant.

“W-what does that mean?” You asked breathlessly.

“It means pretty, you are so pretty! Fucking gorgeous.” He said before he takes his pants off bare and hard underneath.

Your eyes widen slightly as he stroked himself looking down at your body, just admiring all he already did to it. Thinking about all he’s about to do.

He laid down on the bed next to you and pulled you up and over him. Neteyam’s hand gripped your hair softly pushing you down towards his length, “gonna be a good girl and suck my cock?”

You nod again feverishly, no way you’d say no to his tone, or those words that made you want to ride him until you pass out. You bring your head down willingly licking a stride up his length to the top and swirling your tongue around it.

Neteyam moans which is quickly becoming your favorite sound, your tail whips in the air. He grabs it quickly wrapping it around his around using it to lift your lower body until his face was between your tights. His hands ran the outside of your thighs up to your ass and back down a few times as he rolled his eyes back and mown at your trying to deep throat his cock that clearly didn’t fit in your mouth.

Your tongue twirled around his length anyway you could make it go as he gave your ass a nice slap making you moan against him, vibrations sent shivers down to your cunt. Your life your head for some needs sir gasping loudly as you come up. You stroke his cock while looking between your legs are the absolutely glorious expression on his face,

It was amazing watching him fall apart for your tongue, you could imagine what he’d feel like once he finally got to stretch you out with his cock, and you couldn’t wait.

Finally, Neteyam pulled your lower half down by your ass and licked a stride up your cunt from your clit to your hole, you gagged, and you moaned on his cock not expecting him to do that. He let out an amusement chuckle at that, “oh great mother..” he mumbled, “I love it when you gag on my cock like that” he moaned as you curled your tongue on him. “You like gagging on my cock sevin?” You pull your head off him once more letting out a desperate yes into the air before you go back down.

Your face was messy with spit and precum, but you didn’t care, you wanted him to come in your, outnumbered if you could make him, Neteyam’s tongue worked wonders on your clit you almost stop being about to focus moving your head up and down.

He marked up your thighs turning them purple before he sucked on your clit, his tongue flicked up and down, side to side, in circles until he had your arching your back and crying, he had you so lose to coming when he slapped your ass again, something else you’re growing to like.

Your tail whipped harshly in the air, hitting the headboard, sometimes the the bed next to your legs before it wrapped around Neteyam’s left arm. He knew you were close from how much more you were moaning for him to make you cum.

He greedily didn’t waste a drop of your essence when his tongue fucked it out of you before giving you another slap on the ass and pushing you off him. He quickly switched positions getting back on top of you, “I didn’t know you were so good at that baby, I would’ve asked you to suck a cock so long ago.”

He’s hand came up squishing your cheeks together, it wasn’t to hurt you he just loved the fucked our express you sported, he wanted to touch it.

“Would you have sweet? Sucked my cock if I asked you before?” He asked your sitting up on his knees as he spread you open lining himself up. You nod vigorously at him, “mhmmm.” You replied.

He could cum in the stop from how submissive you were, he was honestly surprised you didn’t fight him down more to be in top, not that he was complaining. Seeing his girl under him like this couldn’t have been a sexier view.

“Ready for me to fuck you baby?”

You nodded messily brushing the hair away from your face.

“No no no I wanna hear you this time, want me to make you cum in my cock sweetheart?” He chuckled.

“Yes, yes pleasesss tey.” You moaned as he slapped his cock head on your clit a couple times before he slowly pushed it in. His head rocked back, and he rolled his eyes when he felt how amazingly tight you were.

“Holy fuck…your so fucking tight.” His body falls over yours his hands on both sides of your head as he looks down at your expression. Blush tenfold, mouth wide open as if you were silently screaming as he stretched you open.

You body was adjusting to him quickly, but it felt like he had cock for days. When you thought you couldn’t fit anymore, he made his entire length fit with a sweet scream from you.

“Oh, my goddd” you roll your eyes, nails digging into his shoulder trying to keep your grip on something. You moans turned to pants as he started to slowly push in and out of you. His hair fell over, acting like a curtain that blocked you from the outside world.

His eyes were bright with desire as he stared down at you. “You feel so good!” You moan between thrust. Which made him smile widely canines in full display. He stuffed his face in your neck and grazed them against your already bruised up skin.

“Fuckkkkk me harder! Please tey” you moan as you rack your hands in his hair pushing it back so you could see his face. You smile you as him biting your lip, but it didn’t stop your little moans that he fucked out of you.

Neteyam chuckled as how needy you were for more, his arms went down to your thighs to hold them, pulling your body into his thrust. His grip was strong you’re sure you’d have bruises literally when he was down. Your tail lashed until it wrapped around his strong thigh trying to ground yourself.

“‘m gonna cum! Gonna cum tey” you mewl into the air along with your sweet moans. Your nails raked scratch marks on his back and arms, he’s fucking you so good. Neteyam fucked you like it was his one and only job in the whole world.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything else before your roll your eyes back and scream, arching your back you came squirting in his thighs and abdomen. Your eyes squeezed shut as you moan from the stimulation.

He slowed down to admire your work, but you quickly stopped him, “don’t stop, don’t stop! Keep going! Cum!” You demanded he came for you now.

Your mind was delirious your only thoughts were his big hands on your body, the feeling on his cock bullying its way into your stomach felt incredible. And now that you were being overstimulated. You wanted nothing more than for him to empty his load in you and put you to bed.

And that’s exactly what he planned on doing. Neteyam smiled wickedly as he pulled out and flipped you over on all fours. “Ready to make me cum sweet?” He pulled you up and down positioning you properly and spoke in your ear as he leaned over your body.

You nod feverishly wanting nothing more than that, “yeah? Gonna be a good girl and make me cum?”

“Yes, yes yes yesssss” you moan into the air loudly as he reentered you and started to pound away. First his hands slapped your ass again, grabbing your hips and pulling you in. Neteyam felt like he was a different kind of depth from this angle, he was snug in your cunt. So much so that he was fucking you, but you couldn’t make a sound. Every thrust knocked the air out of you.

That was until he started to fuck faster. Your upped body dropped to the bed head turned to the side so you could see him from the corner of your eye but it didn’t last long, he laced his fingers in your hair pulling you back up so you had no choice but to help hold yourself back up. You couldn’t do anything but scream, it was literally screaming or nothing, you couldn’t find it in yourself to quiet down at all. His fucking just didn’t allow that.

“Look at me sweetheart, being such a good fucking girl for me” he teased and taunted. It actually made you feel pretty, you wanted to be like this for him, you didn’t want him to have anyone but you like this either.

You wanted to nod but his grip on your hair stopped you. You didn’t expect him to pull you back more, his thrust were monstrous but his grip was gentle bending you back in ways you didn’t know you could bend, your head was looking up and him and he leaned down giving you a slowly kiss.

You wanted to cum again but your just couldn’t voice it this time, your voice was not gone, you just could reach it from the angle you were in so without warning again your squirt messing him up some more. Your jaw was slack as he let go of your hair and grabbed your arms by your elbow pulling your body back to him.

You couldn’t think straight you started to push back even more wanting him to fuck you harder, but you couldn’t find the words, and harder he fucked until he emptied his entire soul into your cunt. The groan he let out was animalistic, if you were so fucked out on him you might have gotten scared.

Nevertheless Neteyam eased his cock out of you watching his cum ooze out of your now gaping hole. He rolled his eyes in satisfaction as he dropped down next to you, immediately pulling you into his embrace. He snuggles his face into your neck as he felt your pant to catch your breath.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?” He whispered into your skin.

“Mhmm, I’m okay, you didn’t hurt me” you nod softly, whispering that words, “I’m great” you turn your body to face his molding into his touch as he held you impossibly close, with a smile.

“I guess we established I can more than keep up.” He chuckled softly making you giggle. He picked you up taking you to the bathroom to clean up standing under the shower with you, wrapped around your frame. He didn’t take his hands off you for a second, he didn’t want to be away from you. And neither did you.

Neteyam took your to bed and got in with your wrapping his arms around you pulling the blanket over both of you. It was a bit earlier than you normally went to sleep but you were complaining. You just wanted to be here, with him.

You press a kiss on his chest where his heart was before whispering, “this wasn’t just…nothing. Right?”

His hand paused on her back, he took a breath, then another. “No” he said, voice soft, thoughtful. “It wasn’t nothing.” He kissed to top of your head.

But it wasn’t a promise either.

He tilted your chin up gently. His golden eyes meeting yours. They were searching your face like they were trying to understand something even he couldn’t name, “you’re different,” he murmured. “From anyone I’ve ever known.”

You smiled, a little sad, “that’s not always a good thing.”

“It is to me.”

After that you didn’t say anything snuggling against him as sleep found both of you.

The days that followed blurred together in a quiet, desperate sort of bliss.

Neteyam was healed now, at least, enough to walk without wincing, to stretch without pulling at the scar that had once marked his chest. His strength had returned, slow but steady, and with it came the quiet understanding that time was running out. That he would leave soon.

But neither of you said it.

Instead, you both clung to the days you had left.

He moved through your space like he belonged there now. Not as a guest, not as the stranger you’d patched up on your couch, but as someone who knew exactly where the mugs were kept, who always reached for the same towel in the morning, who leaned against the counter behind her while you cooked and stole bites with a lazy smirk before you could even plate the food.

And you let him.

You let him wrap his arms around your waist from behind while you stood at the sink, let him kiss the spot beneath your ear that made your breath catch. You let him wrap you both in a blanket when the nights got cold. He would tease you, calling you tiny from how well you fit in that space.

You laughed too much, touched too much, kissed like you didn’t want to stop. And sometimes, you didn’t.

You danced in the kitchen one night to music playing low from an old speaker, his hand warm and firm against the small of your back, your cheek resting on his shoulder as if it had always been meant to fit there.

It started as a joke, you were washing dishes, swaying with the song singing it softly from the speaker on the windowsill. It was an old song. Something smooth and low, something just enough to make your hips sway with rhythm. Neteyam had been leaning against the counter, chewing the last bite of fruit, watching your with that quiet little smirk that had become all too familiar.

“You’re dancing,” he noted.

You turn and look at him over your shoulder, “and you’re not.”

He steals forward, exaggerated and smug, “you’re saying you want me to?”

“I’m saying you couldn’t keep up,” you teased, flicking water in his direction.

His eyes gleamed with challenge.

Before you could retreat, he was there, grabbing the towel from your hands, tossing it aside, and pulling you in by the waist. Your laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it, light and surprised, your fingers gripping his arms for balance as he spun you into the open space of the kitchen.

You hadn’t expected him to actually be good at it.

But he was, surprisingly graceful, moving with a rhythm that came as naturally as breathing. His steps were confident, fluid, his hands strong and sure at your waist. He twirled you suddenly, catching you with an arm around your back when you stumbled, dizzy with laughter.

“I thought you said I couldn’t keep up?” he said, voice smug near your ear.

“That was before you cheated,” you accused, cheeks flushed and eyes shining.

He grinned, slow and smug. “You just don’t know how to be led.”

Before you could reply, he dipped you low, one hand firm at your back, the other holding your hand as you arched with a breathless gasp, your hair brushing the wooden floor. You clutched his shoulder for balance, eyes locked with his. The music kept playing, but in that moment, you could barely hear it.

He didn’t pull you up right away.

Just stood there, holding you like that, close and quiet, his expression unreadable, but something simmered beneath it.

And you suddenly forgot how to breathe when he leaned down and kissed you, deep and passionately.

Sometimes, you caught him staring at you when he thought you weren’t looking, after dinner, when you were tucked into the corner of the couch in one of his oversized shirts; in the garden, when the light caught your hair just right. And when you looked back, he didn’t look away.

But he never said anything. And neither did you.

You kissed like lovers. You moved like partners. You lived like something close to more.

But neither of you used the word.

Because the word would mean permanence.

And this? This wasn’t permanent.

The morning he was supposed to leave came too fast.

The air felt heavy and still, as if the forest itself knew this was the end of something. You stood in the kitchen, a warm mug of tea cupped between your hands, untouched. The steam curled lazily toward the ceiling and vanished, just like everything else good lately seemed to.

He hadn’t come downstairs yet. But you knew he was awake.

You’d heard his footsteps moving upstairs before the sun had fully risen. He always woke before you now, falling into your rhythm like he was meant to be here. For over a month now, he’d been a presence you could rely on. You’d gotten used to the way his voice rumbled through your house, to the way he touched things gently, to the sound of him breathing next to you.

He was leaving. And you didn’t know how to hold onto something that was never really yours.

You heard him descending the stairs, and your breath caught without permission. When you turned, he was there, shoulders squared, spear-clothes replaced with something more familiar to him. A satchel was slung over his shoulder, and for the first time since the day you found him, he looked like he belonged to another world.

His world.

Not yours.

He stepped closer, wordless, and took the mug from your hands, setting it gently on the counter. His fingers grazed yours. They lingered for half a second too long. It wasn’t an accident. You didn’t pull away.

You said quietly, “You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”

He held your gaze. The look in his eyes was careful, unreadable—until it wasn’t. You saw it in the way he blinked a little too slowly, like he was trying not to let it show. The conflict. The sadness.

“You shouldn’t be alone out here,” he said.

You gave a half-hearted smile. “I was alone before you. I’ll be fine after.”

He didn’t agree. But he didn’t argue either.

Instead, he stepped forward and rested his forehead against yours. His hands lifted to your cheeks, cradling your face like something breakable. You closed your eyes and let your breath catch in your throat. The moment stretched, full of everything you couldn’t say—everything you wanted to ask but already knew the answer to.

“So that’s it?” you whispered.

There was no reply.

He kissed you. Soft. Intentional. Not rushed. It wasn’t heat or hunger—it was a goodbye. His lips moved against yours like he was trying to memorize you. His hands trembled slightly at your jaw, but he didn’t let go. Not until you had to breathe.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours one last time.

And then he stepped back.

You didn’t stop him. You wanted to, but your feet wouldn’t move.

He looked at you once more. Just once.

He stood there for a moment, shoulders tense, back straight—like he was bracing himself. Then he looked over, just enough for you to see the conflict in his eyes.

“I keep thinking if I look at you too long, I’ll stay.”

His voice was low, almost hoarse, but steady. “You made this place feel… like more than just a place to heal. And I wasn’t ready for that.”

His fingers tightened on the handle. “But this, whatever this is between us, it’s not nothing. You know that, right?”

He looked at you long enough to see you cover your lips with your fingers and nod.

Then he turned, opened the door, and walked out.

The air was thick with the warmth of the afternoon sun as the waves lapped gently against the shore, and the village hummed with life. Tuk and a few of the younger Metkayina children were playing near the edge of the water when the distant figure of a Na’vi appeared. At first, they couldn’t be sure, but then—

“Neteyam?” Tuk’s voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through the air like a knife.

In an instant, her eyes widened, and a breathless gasp escaped her lips. “NETEYAM!”

Her scream rang out, drawing the attention of everyone around. Tuk’s small body shot forward, running as fast as her legs could carry her. Her feet kicked up sand as she rushed toward the figure now stepping onto the shore. The other villagers froze for a moment, watching in shock as the younger girl sprinted toward her brother.

Tuk reached him first, her small arms wrapping around his legs as she sobbed, her tears flowing freely. “You’re alive… You’re alive!” she cried, her voice cracking with emotion.

Tuk never let go of him, clinging desperately to her brother as she looked up at him, still not fully believing her eyes.

Neteyam knelt slightly to pick her up, arms wrapping tightly around her. “Hey, little one,” he whispered, burying his face in her hair. “I missed you too.”

Lo’ak didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just stared, lips parted, his heart thundering in his chest. Then, like something snapped loose inside him, he moved, fast, running to them, barely stopping before he threw his arms around his older brother in a crushing hug. Tuk was squeezed between them, but neither seemed to notice.

“Neteyam,” Lo’ak breathed, voice cracking. “You’re…here.”

Neteyam laughed under his breath, voice thick. “I here baby bro.

Behind them, Kiri came forward, blinking rapidly against her tears. She smiled through them as she reached out to touch Neteyam’s arm. Since one arm held tuk and the other rested on the back of Lo’ak’s head, Neteyam rest his head on kiri’s when she hugged him. “Brother…you are safe.” he whispered as if to confirm it was him.

He had missed them so much, he thought about this day everyday since you saved his laugh.

“Where are mom and dad?” Neteyam asked them.

“They are at home...” Kiri spoke up softly.

“Come let us go to them,” Neteyam ushered them along putting Tuk down for her to run ahead, Lo’ak walked next to him with Neteyam’s arm still on the back of his head and Kiri holding his other hand on the other side of him.

They walk along the path together until they made it in front of the Mauri. Tuk was hyperventilating trying to explain to them Neteyam was there but her words were so fast and jumbled they didn’t understand.

Tuk burst in with a breathless cry, her voice high and jumbled. “He’s here! He’s— I saw him— outside—he’s here!”

Jake’s brow furrowed. Neytiri looked up immediately, alarm in her eyes. “Tuk,” she said carefully, “slow down—who is here?”

But Tuk just spun, pointing to the entrance, tears already brimming. “Just look!”

Jake and Neytiri exchanged a glance, uncertain, cautious, and then stood, slowly, like they were afraid to hope.

And then he stepped into view.

Neteyam stood tall in the doorway, backlit by the soft glow of the evening. His body was leaner than before, marked with faint scars and sun-darkened skin, but he was there. Whole. Alive.

Neytiri didn’t breathe. Her eyes locked onto his face, wide and wet before her lips even parted.

“Neteyam?” she whispered, voice cracking.

Jake was frozen beside her, shoulders drawn tight with tension that hadn’t left him since the day they lost him.

But when Neteyam took one step forward and murmured, “Hi, sa’nok,” that was all it took.

Neytiri let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a prayer as she crossed the distance in seconds, throwing her arms around him. Her hands clutched at his back, his hair, his face, like she needed to touch every part to believe it was real.

Jake was only a breath behind her, wrapping both of them up in his arms.

Neteyam, once the calmest in the family, trembled under their grip.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely audible, voice rough with emotion. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Agh!” Neytiri hissed cutting him off, “you are not at fault my son.” She reassumed him quickly.

“I should have come back sooner, I was healing. I am sorry.” Neteyam continued softly.

“All that matters is that you’re here now.” Jake said as he held his face looking him in the eyes. “You are so strong, and we are so proud of you.”

Neytiri nodded as she sobbed hugging him once more. “Thank you, great mother! Thank you!”

Neteyam gave a small, broken laugh. And then Tuk wrapped herself around his side, Kiri touched his arm gently, and even Lo’ak, head lowered and eyes red, pulled him into a fierce hug from behind.

He was home.

They sat together in the family mauri, close like they hadn’t been in weeks��no, months. The woven floor creaked softly beneath them as if it remembered their weight. Neytiri hadn’t stopped touching him: her hand brushed over his arm again and again like she couldn’t believe he was solid, real. Jake sat beside her, face unreadable, but his eyes never left Neteyam.

Kiri and Tuk sat cross-legged in front of him, and Lo’ak curled beside his older brother with his head on his shoulder. The silence that had followed the reunion lingered for only a few more seconds before Jake spoke.

“Where the hell have you been?”

The question wasn’t sharp, his voice cracked, it was full of awe and something that sounded like fear still clinging to his voice. Neytiri looked at Neteyam quickly, her brows pinched, echoing the question without saying it aloud.

Lo’ak added quietly, “We thought something must’ve taken you. One minute you were on the rock and when we returned you were just…gone.”

“Were you taken?” Kiri’s voice was gentler, more cautious. “Did someone find you? How did you survive?”

Neteyam’s eyes dropped to the floor, his fingers moving slowly against the edge of the mat. “It’s… a long story,” he said finally.

Jake frowned. “We have time.”

But Neteyam just shook his head. “I was lucky. That’s all. I got out of the water. I healed.”

“Alone?” Neytiri asked softly.

His jaw shifted slightly. “Not exactly.”

They all looked at each other, waiting, the questions thick in the air.

But Neteyam didn’t offer more.

Lo’ak frowned. “You’re not gonna tell us what happened?”

“I’m here. That’s what matters.” His voice was calm, but firm. Unmovable as he rested his hand on Lo’ak’s head once more.

There was a long pause.

Jake’s shoulders sank slightly, but he didn’t press. “Alright. We won’t push.”

Neytiri reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. “You’ll tell us when you’re ready.”

Neteyam met her eyes, a flash of guilt there, but also protectiveness. “Yeah.”

The silence settled again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It was filled with the sound of being together again. The sound of breathing. Of warmth. Of a family no longer broken.

But the mystery remained, where had Neteyam gone? And who had helped him heal?

Over the next two weeks, the cracks in Neteyam’s armor began to show, subtle at first, but impossible to ignore.

It was little things at first, like the way he’d go rigid at the sudden crack of a fish net snapping, or the sharp clang of a pot dropped onto stone. He would still himself completely, eyes darting around before relaxing, but always a second too late, always too visibly. The others noticed. His father said nothing. Neytiri frowned often, quietly watching him from across the marui.

He wasn’t cruel to his siblings, but he wasn’t as patient as he’d always been. One afternoon, Tuk was playing with her shell collection, chattering brightly, when she accidentally dropped one. It cracked sharply on the floor and she let out a high-pitched scream, part startle, part sadness.

Neteyam was on her in an instant.

He knelt in front of her, hands gentle as he turned her arms and checked her legs for injury, for blood, for anything. But there was nothing. Just a wide-eyed little sister with a broken toy. He exhaled shakily, then said, just a touch too sharp, too strained, “Why? You have nothing to be screaming for.”

Tuk’s lip trembled. She didn’t cry, but her small voice whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He softened immediately, brushing her hair back with a tender sigh. “No. I’m sorry, Tuk. I didn’t mean it like that.”

His thoughts spiraled in quiet waves, always leading back to you. How you held his face in your hands. How you smelled after your shower. How your fingers twitched when you embroidered, always pulling too tight on the first stitch. The memory of your breath, warm against his throat.

He tried to bury it, keep himself moving. He picked up the bracelet work again. Lo’ak walked in one day, brows furrowed. “You don’t even give those to people.”

Neteyam didn’t answer. He just kept weaving the pattern you’d taught him. Tight, crooked in one corner. Familiar.

It was the singing they noticed first.

Soft and low, barely more than a breath, but always the same melody. A tune no one in the family had heard before, one with an unfamiliar rise and fall, notes that sounded like comfort… and ache. Neteyam hummed it without realizing, usually when his hands were busy—carving, weaving, or washing. Even when he walked along the shoreline at dusk, the melody trailed behind him like a shadow.

His siblings started to pick up on it. Kiri heard it while braiding her hair one morning and paused, tilting her head toward him. Lo’ak noticed it when they were spearfishing—Neteyam would drift off, his lips moving soundlessly until he jerked himself back to the moment. Tuk hummed it too, mimicking him unconsciously, but when she asked where it came from, Neteyam just looked away.

The song belonged to you, though he never said your name.

The silence he carried was louder than any melody.

And the sleep… or lack of it… that was next.

He didn’t sleep on his pillow anymore. Not like before. Instead, he wrapped his arms around it, buried his face in the cottony middle, and curled himself tight like he was afraid of unraveling. His tail no longer lay relaxed across the woven mat; it was tucked close to his body, tense. Every few hours, he’d toss and turn, then sit up, wide-eyed and disoriented, breathing hard like he’d just been yanked from some far-off place.

Some nights, he paced in front of the marui, arms folded tight across his chest, jaw tense. Other nights he sat on the edge of his sleeping mat, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor while the rest of the family lay still. His eyes looked bruised with fatigue, but he never said he was tired.

And when he did sleep, it was only for a little while. A flicker of peace, until something small, a shout, a crashing wave, a shell hitting the ground, snapped him back to the surface.

Like the day Kiri accidentally dropped a basket and screamed when it fell apart. Neteyam had flinched so hard he nearly stumbled. He whipped his head to look at her, eyes scanning her arms, her legs, checking for blood, for breaks, for pain. But she was fine just startled. And when he realized there were no injuries, his face shifted.

“What the fuck Kiri? Get a grip. Literally,” he said, calm, but short, his voice clipped and colder than she’d ever heard it.

Kiri blinked up at him, surprised. His hands were still on her shoulders, but his touch was lighter now. Gentle again. Like he knew he’d overstepped but didn’t have the words to fix it. He stood without another word and walked away. Later that night, he brought her a sweetfruit and kissed her hair in apology, but didn’t bring it up again.

His parents were quiet about it, but they noticed too.

They saw how he’d zone out during meals, fingers moving in patterns they couldn’t recognize, embroidery, little woven strands, sometimes bracelets he didn’t give to anyone. The designs were different from the ones he learned growing up. Too intricate, too… specific. Clearly taught by someone else but who? They couldn’t say. They watched how he braided strands of twine for hours, all different colors and patterns, then tucked it under his sleeping mat like a secret.

Jake and Neytiri exchanged glances but didn’t press. Not yet. Because their son had come back to them alive… but not entirely whole.

And while they didn’t know who he was grieving, they could see it in everything he did.

Even the way he hummed that melody in the middle of the night, just loud enough to keep himself company, just quiet enough to mourn.

The glow of the bioluminescent lanterns outside the marui flickered faintly, casting soft light through the woven walls. Neteyam lay on his side on the sleeping mat, eyes half open, his arm loosely clutching the pillow he’d once only used for support. Now, he held it as if it were grounding him, something to anchor him in the silence of his own mind.

Behind him, Lo’ak’s forehead was pressed gently to his back, breathing slow and even. He’d done this every night since Neteyam came home. Said nothing about it. Just curled up behind him like he needed to be sure he was real, listening to the steady beat of his heart before he could sleep himself.

A soft rustle stirred the quiet, and Neteyam’s ears twitched before he turned his head slightly toward the sound.

Neytiri stood at the entrance of the marui, her presence light, careful not to startle. Her eyes searched his in the dim glow soft, loving, concerned.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked gently, crouching beside him.

Neteyam didn’t speak at first. Just blinked slowly, then nodded. “Some nights are harder than others.”

She reached forward, brushing her fingers through his braids the way she had when he was younger. “You do not have to hold it all inside, ma ’itan.”

“I’m not,” he murmured. Then quieter, “Not all of it.”

Neytiri tilted her head, watching his face. “You jump when things fall. You are quiet when you used to laugh. You are here, but your spirit is still traveling.”

He swallowed, shifting slightly, careful not to wake Lo’ak. “I’m just… tired, sa’nok. That’s all.”

“You hold your pillow like someone who misses the weight of a body beside them,” she said softly, her tone tender, not accusing. “You hum songs you did not know before. And you walk at night like the stars will answer you.”

Neteyam’s jaw tightened, but his eyes glistened with something unspoken.

“I am not asking for your secrets,” Neytiri added. “Just your heart. Let it rest, even for a little while.”

“I’m trying,” he whispered. His voice cracked just slightly. “I really am.”

She leaned in and kissed his forehead, then rested her own there for a long moment. “You don’t have to carry the whole war inside you anymore.”

When she pulled back, she smiled gently, brushing a thumb along his temple. “Goodnight, ma yawntu.”

“Goodnight, sa’nok,” he murmured.

Neytiri glanced at Lo’ak still sleeping soundly behind him, pressed to his back like a second heartbeat. Her eyes softened again. Then, without another word, she slipped out, leaving the siblings bundled in quiet comfort, one dreaming, the other still chasing peace behind heavy eyelids.

The sun had barely climbed above the tide when voices echoed outside the Sully family mauri — familiar, lighthearted. Lo’ak stepped out first to greet them, the sound of splashing feet in the shallows carrying over the breeze.

Aonung and Tsireya.

It had been nearly a month since the clan believed Neteyam was dead, taken by the sea before they could say goodbye. Now, he was alive. Healing. Quiet. Changed.

Neteyam sat cross-legged on his sleeping mat, back straight, hands loosely clasped. His shoulders tensed when he heard their laughter. It was strange, he’d missed them. He’d once teased Aonung over every clumsy spear throw and laughed until his stomach hurt at Tsireya’s mimicry of her father’s scolding tone. But today, something coiled tight in his chest.

They stepped into view.

Tsireya.

His breath caught.

She looked just like you in the sunlight.

The wide, curious eyes. The soft shape of her mouth when she smiled. The way her hair framed her face, falling like waves over her shoulders. His mind buckled beneath the weight of memories, the scent of your skin after a shower, your laugh when you danced around the cabin, your fingers pulling thread through cloth as you taught him embroidery. Tsireya’s presence was a mirror, not a perfect one, but close enough to sting.

He stood slowly, greeting them with a half-smile. “You came to see if I’m real.”

Tsireya laughed, warm and sweet. “You’re not a ghost. That much is clear.”

Neteyam’s eyes didn’t leave hers. Not a ghost, she said, but he felt like one, like something still tethered to someone not here.

Aonung clapped him on the shoulder. “You look like you wrestled a palulukan and won. Barely.”

They laughed. Neteyam smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Later, when they all sat for lunch, Neteyam made space next to him and wordlessly tapped the mat, motioning Tsireya over. She glanced at Lo’ak, who gave her a subtle nod. She settled beside Neteyam, and he immediately rested his hand on her knee, a gesture so natural, no one questioned it. Except Lo’ak, who paused mid-bite.

Neteyam didn’t notice. He was focused on the way Tsireya’s lips curled as she bit into a piece of grilled fish, not because he was interested in her, but because he remembered the way you did that. The way you’d wrinkle your nose at certain spices. The way you’d hum without realizing it when food made you happy.

He leaned in and murmured something, making her laugh again. She was flattered — she thought he was just being sweet. He’d always been her best friend, like a big brother in a way. She assumed this was just him returning to who he was.

But Neteyam wasn’t who he was. Not anymore.

The longer the visit went on, the more attached he became. He walked with Tsireya to the reef where she helped tend to the clan’s younger swimmers, always a step too close. When she crouched to fix a child’s fins, he stood behind her, hand resting lightly on her shoulder. When she laughed, his eyes softened. When she smiled, his lips parted, as if a memory had just hit him like a wave.

And he didn’t even realize what he was doing.

Lo’ak noticed, though. He noticed everything. The way Neteyam always found a reason to pull Tsireya aside. The way he no longer sat by him at meals, how he had a hand on her arm, her waist, her shoulder, always.

Lo’ak watched his brother quietly spiral, swallowed by a grief he never named, and a need he didn’t understand.

And Neteyam?

Neteyam just kept seeing you.

Everywhere.

It started with subtle glances. The way Neteyam’s eyes lingered too long when Tsireya smiled. The way he’d fall silent mid-sentence just to watch her laugh. At first, no one said anything. Maybe they thought it was joy, the kind of light-heartedness that came with healing. Maybe they were just relieved to see him alive.

But it didn’t stop.

It got worse.

Neteyam followed her. Everywhere. If Tsireya helped prepare meals, he was beside her, his hands brushing hers when she reached for seaweed or fish. If she went to the shoreline to teach the younglings, he stood behind her, arms crossed, eyes never straying. When she turned, she always found him already watching.

It was obsessive, quiet and unspoken, but visible in every move.

When she sat, he sat behind her and pulled her between his legs like it was instinct. When she laughed, he laughed, even if he didn’t catch the joke. When she reached for something, his hand was already there. Too eager. Too close.

Tsireya didn’t question it.

Neteyam had always been kind, comforting. And she thought, maybe after what he went through, he just needed familiarity. He was her friend. Maybe he missed her.

But it wasn’t her he was seeing.

It was you.

Every movement, every look, every word she spoke it reminded him of you. But not in a nostalgic, gentle way. No, it consumed him. When she smiled, he swore his heart clenched. When she walked ahead of him, he blinked and saw you — your hair bouncing as you turned to grin at him. When she laughed, he imagined your voice beneath hers. It all blurred. Like a fever dream. Like he was drunk on a memory.

And his family began to notice.

Kiri watched him during dinner, chewing slowly, her brow furrowed. The way he always offered Tsireya food first. The way his arm always found its way around her back. The way he no longer looked at anyone else.

Tuk noticed too. She was too young to name it, but she stared a lot. Her big eyes darting between her big brother and Tsireya like she didn’t understand what she was seeing, but she saw the way he stared at her. Almost in the same way she noticed Lo’ak looks at her.

Neytiri, sitting near the hearth one evening, turned to Jake and whispered, “He’s holding on to something. Do you see it?”

Jake only nodded. His eldest son sat across from them, hands idly weaving another bracelet. Another one with strange knots and colors. Patterns he never used before. Patterns only you had taught him.

But it was Lo’ak who saw the most.

Because Tsireya was his.

He’d been so happy when Neteyam came home. He missed him more than words could carry. And for a while, everything felt whole again. But it cracked slowly — painfully — when he started seeing Neteyam reaching for Tsireya’s hand before he could. When Neteyam stood too close. Sat too close. Touched her hair without asking.

When Lo’ak came back from a dive one afternoon, dripping and breathless, he saw Neteyam laughing with Tsireya — his hands gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled, oblivious.

Lo’ak stopped mid-step, staring.

Neteyam didn’t even notice him.

Didn’t see him.

That night, Lo’ak didn’t sleep. He lay on his side, staring at his brother’s back, the rise and fall of Neteyam’s breathing. And like every night since Neteyam came home, Lo’ak gently rested his forehead between his brother’s shoulder blades, listening to his heartbeat.

But that night, Neteyam’s heart was racing. Too fast.

Lo’ak whispered, “What’s going on with you, bro?” But Neteyam didn’t answer. He never answered.

The next day, Neteyam got quiet. Detached. Like he knew something was wrong and couldn’t explain it. He started singing softly while working, that same strange song again. The one no one recognized. Over and over. A lullaby. Your lullaby.

Neteyam’s affection for Tsireya was no longer subtle. His family had begun noticing it in clearer moments, when he wasn’t trying to appear collected. One afternoon, while Lo’ak was off gathering shellfish, Neteyam spotted Tsireya weaving fishing baskets with his sister and without hesitation, walked over, crouched beside her, and brushed her hair back from her cheek with a tenderness that startled even her. She smiled, unsure, assuming it was one of their old familiar gestures, but Kiri saw the look in Neteyam’s eyes, intense, distracted, reverent and felt something in her chest tighten.

During a communal meal, he asked Tsireya to sit next to him, again. When she hesitated, glancing between him and Lo’ak, Neteyam gently took her wrist and guided her down beside him, handing her a piece of roasted fruit with a soft smile. Neytiri watched silently from across the mat, her eyes narrowing just slightly.

Neteyam started making things for her. One evening, Kiri walked past him at the edge of the reef, where he sat alone, stringing a bracelet with the exact knot pattern you had taught him. But when Kiri asked who it was for, he tucked it behind his back and murmured, “No one. Just practice.” Hours later, it was braided into Tsireya’s hair.

Lo’ak tried to ignore it at first. Tried to explain it away, Neteyam was healing, disoriented, confused. But it kept happening. Neteyam started offering to escort Tsireya during her clan duties, would walk with her in silence, his gaze fixed forward, occasionally slipping his hand into hers like it was the most natural thing in the world. Once, when she stopped to fix her net, he sat behind her, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist while she worked. Lo’ak saw them. He didn’t say anything. Not yet.

The others noticed too. Aonung, usually quick to tease, grew quiet, throwing glances between Neteyam and Lo’ak with a furrowed brow. Kiri kept her distance, choosing silence over confrontation, though her gaze lingered on her older brother longer than usual, trying to decipher what had broken in him.

Neteyam was drifting. Delusional in a way he couldn’t admit to himself, not even when the truth pressed down like a wave about to pull him under.

He didn’t even see Tsireya anymore.

Not really.

Every time she laughed, it was your laugh he heard light, airy, wrapped in something only he had ever known. When her fingers brushed his, his skin prickled like yours had touched him instead, soft and certain, with that quiet boldness you always carried. Tsireya would smile up at him, wide-eyed and kind, and all he could think was there you are.

In the curve of Tsireya’s mouth, he saw the way you used to smirk at him when you knew he was watching you. In her eyes, he swore he caught the same stormy glint you’d get when you were teasing him or trying not to smile too wide. Her hair when it clung to her shoulders after a dive looked just like yours had that night when he kissed you in the kitchen, his hands in your wet hair, your mouth all heat.

It happened slowly, then all at once.

One morning, Tsireya handed him a fruit and her fingers grazed his palm, and he smiled—not at her, but at you. He looked right at her and called her by your name. Softly. Naturally. Like it was always meant to be that way.

She tilted her head, confused, but Neteyam didn’t notice, he didn’t even notice the way he brushed it off when she questioned it changing the subject to something that distracted her..

In his mind, you were smiling at him. You’d just brought him something to eat, you were laughing like you did when he stole bites from your fingers. You were standing right there in front of him, just like always.

When Tsireya asked him to help gather shells for the clan’s ritual, he agreed without hesitation, thinking it was you asking him to take a walk by the shoreline, to do something domestic and sweet and yours. He barely heard her voice anymore. His brain filtered it into something softer. Your tone. Your cadence.

At dinner, when everyone was seated and Lo’ak beckoned Tsireya to sit beside him, Neteyam’s hand was already tugging her wrist toward the spot next to him. He didn’t even glance at Lo’ak. His eyes were glued to her no, you like if he let go, you’d disappear all over again.

And when she settled beside him and laughed about something someone said, he turned to her and whispered, “You’re beautiful when you laugh like that.”

She blinked. “Neteyam?”

But he didn’t even hear the hesitation in her voice. He only saw the faint light on her cheeks, the way her hair swayed against her collarbone. He leaned in like it was natural. Like he’d done it a hundred times before. Because he had with you.

“You always do that,” he said, voice low, fond. “You tilt your head like that when you’re trying not to blush.”

Tsireya blinked again. “What?”

But Neteyam only smiled, thumb brushing the edge of her jaw gently. He was gone. Fully, entirely lost in you.

To him, this wasn’t Tsireya anymore.

It hadn’t been for days.

It was you, back from the cabin, here in front of him again. He didn’t realize how often he whispered your name. How his voice wrapped around it like a prayer. How his grip lingered too long, his eyes saw someone else, his heart responded to a ghost.

The only person who noticed the unraveling was Lo’ak.

He watched his brother sit beside his girlfriend like she belonged to him. Watched him touch her hair with a faraway look. Watched him smile at her like she held the entire sky in her hands—and not once, not once, did he call her by name.

Lo’ak’s chest tightened with dread. Because he didn’t know who this version of Neteyam was. And he was scared to find out what it would take to bring his brother back.

The tide was low and gentle that afternoon, the water pulling rhythmically at the sand with soft hushing sounds. Lo’ak was returning from a dive task, surfacing with a bundle of netted sea urchins slung over his shoulder, droplets dripping from his hair as he approached the shore.

That’s when he saw them.

Tsireya sat on a woven mat of dried reeds, a shallow basket resting between her crossed legs, her fingers nimbly sorting through small, polished shells and tiny coral pieces. And behind her—Neteyam. Legs outstretched on either side of her, his arms looped loosely around her shoulders, chin brushing the side of her head, body curved around hers like she belonged to him.

They were laughing.

Not loudly, just that shared, intimate kind of laughter between two people lost in each other’s orbit. Neteyam was murmuring something to her, soft and teasing, his voice low near her ear. She leaned her head back lightly against his chest and smiled, relaxed, content.

He plucked a shell from her hand, pretending to inspect it dramatically before holding it up in mock approval. “This one?” he asked, eyes on her. “Too pretty to be left alone.”

She giggled, reaching up to nudge his chin. “You’re not even helping.”

“I am,” he protested lightly, wrapping his arm more snugly around her. “I’m the emotional support.”

Lo’ak stood still, halfway between the ocean and the sand, saltwater still clinging to his skin. At first he thought maybe it was innocent. His brother and his girlfriend had always been close. But something was different now. Something in the way Neteyam held her like it was second nature. The way his fingers brushed hers when she reached into the basket. The way his gaze lingered on her smile a fraction too long. The way he looked at her like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

It hit Lo’ak like a sucker punch.

Neteyam wasn’t looking at Tsireya like a friend.

He was looking at her like she was his.

Like she was someone he needed.

Lo’ak’s gut twisted. The weight of it made his chest feel tight. He watched for one more second, then turned sharply on his heel and stormed up the path, each step heavier than the last.

He couldn’t ignore it anymore. Tsireya was the love of his life, Neteyam knew that before he got shot.

Lo’ak stormed into the family mauri, chest heaving, dripping wet from the ocean, salt still clinging to his skin. The sack of gathered shells fell from his shoulder with a dull thump onto the floor. The sound made Neytiri’s head snap up from where she was weaving. Jake looked up from carving a small piece of driftwood, and Kiri paused, hand midair with her gathering bowl.

He stood there, fists balled at his sides, trying to keep it in, but it spilled out anyway.

“I can’t keep watching this.”

Jake frowned. “What happened?”

Lo’ak didn’t answer right away. He stepped deeper into the room, rubbing his hand over his face like he couldn’t believe what he saw.

“I went to the reef after the storm. I was helping gather shell bundles the current dragged out…” His voice was unsteady. “And I saw them.”

“Who?” Kiri asked softly.

“Neteyam. Tsireya.”

Neytiri’s hands went still in her lap.

Lo’ak scoffed, a bitter sound. “He had her between his legs. They were sitting in the sand like they do it every fucking day, his arms around her, helping her sort through little fucking shells, whispering to her. She was laughing. Leaning back against him like they were… like they were together.”

Jake’s expression tightened.

Lo’ak’s voice cracked. “He never looked at her like that. Never. Before he—before the ship, before everything—he- she was his friend, his best friend.. She was mine. I brought her into our family, I brought her home, and not him…”

He shook his head like it physically hurt. “Now he won’t leave her side. He follows her when she walks. He sits next to her at every meal. He touches her shoulder when he talks. He’s always smiling at her. I can’t even get a minute alone with my own girlfriend. He just pops up out of fucking no where and takes her away casually.”

He looked between them, desperate. “Why is he doing this?”

Kiri’s brow furrowed. “Maybe he’s trying to reconnect—”

“No,” Lo’ak snapped. “This isn’t about reconnecting. He’s obsessed. He acts like he’s known her forever. Like he sees something else when he looks at her.”

Neytiri stood, slowly approaching him. “Lo’ak, your brother went through something we don’t understand. He almost died. Maybe he’s not—”

“He’s not right,” Lo’ak whispered, his voice breaking. “He’s not who he was. He looks at her like he loves her, he looks at her the way I look at her, but I swear to Eywa, he doesn’t even see her. It’s like he sees someone else in her face. Like he’s talking to a ghost.”

The silence that followed was heavier than the storm that had passed that morning.

Jake’s jaw was tight. Kiri looked away, worried and thoughtful. And Neytiri, heart aching, placed a hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder.

But Lo’ak just looked at the fire, eyes flickering.

“I don’t know who my brother is anymore,” he said. “And I don’t think he does either.”

Jake’s jaw was tight, his hands clasped together as he leaned forward. “We need to figure this out,” he said, voice low and tense. “This isn’t just about him acting strange—he’s not here. He’s somewhere else in his head.”

“He’s obsessed more like it, with My tsireya.” Lo’ak muttered, still fuming, pacing with his arms folded.

Kiri watched him, eyes sharp with worry. “He is. I think there was someone else… when he was gone. That’s why he’s not himself. He left part of himself behind—maybe with her.”

Neytiri, quiet until now, looked toward the entrance of the mauri. “Then we need to draw it out of him gently. He won’t talk if he feels cornered.”

Jake gave a slow nod. “So, here’s what we do—we keep him close. Watch. Ask things that sound innocent, things that might slip past his defenses. Especially things about where he was, how he survived.”

“We bring Tsireya around less,” Kiri added. “Maybe if he’s seeing someone else in her, maybe distance will help him see clearly.”

Lo’ak’s shoulders dropped slightly. “And if he doesn’t come around?”

Jake looked at his son, his voice firm but calm. “Then we help him remember who he is. Even if it means dragging it out of him piece by piece.”

Neytiri nodded. “Together.”

They all sat in the quiet a moment longer, the hum of the ocean beyond their walls steady waiting. Watching. Planning.

Because something was broken inside Neteyam… and they couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Neteyam is scary bro… no way this works. I think he’ll lash out if you take tsireya away from him, even if it’d slowly. He’s like her shadow. He’ll notice.” Lo’ak says after a beat of silence.

“Your right but Neteyam would never hurt us” Kiri went on looking between them. “But we’ve seen what he can do, we all know what he is capable off.”

“Like when that shoulder knocked spider over?” Lo’ak added. “Neteyam practically tore him apart. He didn’t even blink.”

Jake exhales through his nose, he was the reason Neteyam was so highly trained. “He’s trained to end threats, not negotiate with them.”

“We are assuming here from Lo’ak’s description that he’s seeing someone else. The. He is right. What if he snaps?”

Silence.

It was Lo’ak, surprisingly, who voice the next idea, “what if we do the opposite?” Everyone looked at him. “What if we use Tsireya? Not as bait but as a way in, maybe he’ll open up and talk to her.”

Kiri frowned, “he is not going to admit anything. Assuming he doesn’t know he’s doing it.”

“But maybe she can lead him there,” Jake said, catching on. “If we prep her, really explain what we think is going on, she could ease it out of him, ask the right questions.”

Neytiri’s frown depends, “you are assuming she’ll even believe us. My son is leveled headed in any situation. Everyone knows that. Why would she believe that Neteyam if all people is delusional and seeing someone else if her eyes?”

Sure enough the next morning they gentle pulled tsireya aside and say her down explaining what they thought might be going on with Neteyam. They explained they thought he was lost, fantasizing about someone else. And she blinked, wide-eyed and confused.

She shook her head genuinely puzzled. “But…he’s not in love with me. He never was. I am with you Lo’ak. And now he’s just… sweet. Clingy, yes, but…not delusional.

Jake stepped in, “we think that it’s not you he’s seeing tsireya. We don’t have another explanation for why he’d act like this out of nowhere.”

Lo’ak’s voice was tight, more hit than angry now. “You’re not who he thinks you are. But if you talk to him, if you help him open up about what happened when he wasn’t here. When he was healing that gunshot wound that should have killed him. He’ll go back to being your friend. My brother.”

She was quiet for a long time but ultimately decided to help. “What do I even ask him?”

The truth was, they were all worried this could go wrong. Neteyam was a weapon forged in war. But he was also a son, and a brother, a friend. And he was loved, they cared.

It was nearing twilight when Tsireya entered the Sully family mauri, soft-voiced and tentative. The air inside was still, heavy with the scent of the ocean and herbal smoke. Jake sat cross-legged near the fire pit, feigning focus on carving. Neytiri was sorting through drying herbs. Kiri shelled seeds in the corner. Lo’ak had returned from his task not long before and stood off to the side, jaw tight, watching.

Neteyam was sitting on his sleeping mat, hair tied back loosely, a bracelet half-finished in his lap. His expression shifted the moment he saw Tsireya — softened, lit with affection. “Hey,” he murmured. “Come sit with me.”

She did, settling cross-legged beside him, close as always. She gave a polite nod to the rest of his family, then turned to him. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Neteyam nodded, relaxed. “Anything.”

“Do you remember the first time you woke up? After you got hurt?” she asked, gently.

His gaze shifted to look at her for a second, “of course I do. I remember everything.you were there.”

Tsireya hesitated, “what was I doing?”

Neteyam chuckled, “she- you stitched me up and stopped the bleeding then put me on your couch to sleep and I woke up after a while and you were asleep in the couch right in front of me. You remember…. I had threatened to stab you I thought I was captured by the RDA. But I wasn’t it was just you and me in the cabin.”

They all heard it, ‘She’ they were right.

Jake subtly looked up. Kiri had stopped shelling seeds, Neytiri’s hands slowed and Lo’ak rubbed his hands over his face.

“And��.the song?” Tsireya continued carefully, “what song did I sing?”

“You know it?” He said quickly. “You turned on the radio in the windowsill, you sang the words so much I memorized it, you said it was one of your favorite songs, it was…. we danced in the kitchen.”

He looked at her with pure devotion.

His family was reeling. They didn’t know what to think.

“And the brackets,” she went on, “when did you learn to make those?”

He smiled. “You taught me, my second week. We sat outside in the grass, and you taught me. Made me promise one day I’d teach someone else the patterns, so they’ll stay alive?”

His face dropped a little.

Kiri’s brow pulled together.

Lo’ak had stood up, taking a step then back.

Tsireya whispered, “and…where are we right now?”

Neteyam blinked.

“You and me” she clarified. “Where are we?”

He looked around at the mauri, his family seated around, and for a second his face twisted in confusion, “we are in my family home. It is not the forest though.”

He knew where he was, they noted.

Tsireya swallowed. “Neteyam… do you see me?”

He stared at her confused, “of course I see you.”

“No.” She pressed, voice breaking a little. “Do you see…me? Not the woman you spent time within the cabin, not who saved your life. Do you see me Neteyam?”

He frowned, visibly disturbed, “why are you talking like this? Why are you pretending?” His voice was strained now, shaken. “Why are you pretending it wasn’t you who saved me? You are. You kept me alive. You were there.”

The room held its breath.

Tsireya didn’t respond.

Neteyam reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. “why are you doing this to me? Don’t you remember? The cabin on the cliff, nice open yard space, private garden where you grow fruits and vegetables to cook and eat. The..porch swing? How could you forget?”

Tsireya’s breath hitched, her voice nearly there. “I wasn’t there.”

He froze.

Slowly her grip on his hands tightened. “That wasn’t me, Neteyam.”

The world around him tilted. His moth hoarded, but no sound came out yet.

“Why are you saying this? All of this happened, and so much more.” He stressed, “and then I brought you here. Home! To my family, I- you….you had dinner and my parents, my brother, my sisters they like you!”

His eyes dart around to his family.

Kiri stood up, Jake stepped forward, face tense calm, but wary, “son—”

“No! Dad! Don’t you like her? Isn’t she amazing? She saved my life she… for once I didn’t have to…she took care of me!” Neteyam’s voice was getting louder.

He let go of her hands and stood up fast, the sleeping mat shifted under his feet. “No. No, no, no, don’t do think. Why are you all doing this?”

“My son, you are not well,” Neytiri said softly.

“I am fine,” he snapped, “she just… she’s confused, why are you confusing her?”

Tsireya stood up her hands on his shoulder as he tried to calm him. “Neteyam please—”

His eyes dart from here to everyone else. “Why are you all acting like she isn’t here? She is here! She was there! She saved me!”

Lo’ak stepped forward, “you're not talking to her. You think you are but yours not.” He tried to be as gentle as possible.

Neteyam turned to him trembling, breathing shallow.

“I don’t know who yours seeing, I don’t know who you think is here brother. But it’s not Tsireya.”

“Tsireya? I don’t want Tsireya she’s your girlfriend bro, what are you saying?”

“Neteyam.” Lo’ak walked up to him holding his shoulders as he spoke again, “look at her.” Neteyam eyes darted unsure. What were they saying to him. “Look at her.” He repeated and he did. He looked at her. He saw you he still saw you and he was about to protest but then he saw it. A flicker of blue where your golden eyes were and it changed. Straight hair to curly, lighter skin, thick arms, legs, tail. He said tsireya.

He stumbled back abruptly, almost tripping over his own feet. His hand push Lo’ak away and he rubbed them over his face. He shut his eyes and open them, and you were gone.

“No, no… this isn’t…” he whispered. The memory of you flickering like flame behind his eyes, “where did you go?” He asked the air. “Where did… what the fuck!”

“I’m not crazy I swear I’m not crazy, you’re- she’s real! Mom! She’s real!” He was practically shouting now.

“She saved me life when you all left to get Kiri and tuk off that ship! You thought I died you left! She came up from the ocean and saw me! Saw life in me and she saved me! Stopped the bleeding and stitched it up so I could wake up! She…she cooked and helped me regain strength; she was peaceful. So peaceful and I- she… I brought her home..” he whispered the last part.

Neytiri with tears in her eyes walked up to her son, “I believe you, calm down—”

“Calm down? I- where is she!?”

Jake quick on his feet, held onto his son to ground him. “Hey, hey, hey. Look at me boy.”

Neteyam listened, still panting.

“What’s her name?”

“…y/n”

He knows now, you were not here. You were never here. Did he really leave you in the cabin. Eywa, he wishes he didn’t. He couldn’t leave everything behind. He wanted you to come. Why didn’t he ask you to come?

“How much time passed since I came back here?”

“Almost two months son” Neytiri answered.

Two months. Two whole months you’ve been alone while he’d been delusional and in love with you to the point where he imagined you in another person. Why did he leave you there? The question echoed. What was his excuse. You didn’t mean nothing. You meant everything.

Neteyam bolted outside, his family confused followed him watching him call his ikran and bond quickly shooting into the sky. His mother didn’t let him get far before she called her own and they all followed. Tsireya riding with Lo’ak followed Neteyam into the sky.

“Neteyam!” Jake’s voice cracked through the air.

“Bro, STOP!” Lo’ak yelled, desperately chasing the blur of blue and war paint ahead.

But Neteyam didn’t hear them.

Or rather, he did, but it didn’t matter.

He couldn’t stop. Not now. He knew where he was going. The wind stung his face; his eyes burned with salt and memory. He gripped Seze tighter, as if she could sense the ache in his soul. And maybe she could. She flew harder, faster.

His shoulders trembled. His mind replayed the look on your face when you first reached for him that night in the cabin. How you pressed a cloth to his wound. The warmth of your hands. The quiet strength in your voice.

“You’re safe.”

He let out a low, broken sound, part gasp, part cry.

He had to find you. He needed you.

Behind him, the Sullys followed in silence. Watching him, helpless and afraid. Jake’s jaw clenched. Neytiri’s heart raced with mother’s dread. Lo’ak… Lo’ak couldn’t even feel angry anymore.

“He’s not stopping,” Kiri murmured.

“No,” Jake said grimly, eyes locked on his son. “He’s not.”

The wind howled around them as they cut through the sky, chasing after Neteyam, who chased the only piece of peace he had left. You.

The cliff winds howled around him as Seze descended sharply, banking with precision toward the narrow ledge beside the cabin tucked into the trees. The ocean stretched wide and wild below, waves crashing violently against the cliff, but Neteyam didn’t hear them. All he could hear was the hammering of his heart and the blood rushing in his ears.

The cabin stood where it always had, carved partially into the stone, half wood and half earth, smoke curling faintly from the chimney. That meant someone was here.

That meant you were here.

His eyes dart around sharply looking for you and he saw you. Sitting in the porch swing cleaning some fruits from a basket you had on the table next to you.

Neteyam bolted. Ran as fast as he could to get to you. When you didn’t see him and look up your thought you were dreaming. ‘He came back?’

You stood up slowly and he didn’t slow down, he didn’t stop. He just crashed into you, arms wrapping around you like you were the most importantly thing in the world.

He was much stronger than when he had left. You almost lost track of time, it had been…nearly two months since the last time you saw him. He was leaner, more muscular, his hair was braided again. “Neteyam…” you whisper into his chest.

Your hands had slowly wrapped around his back molding into him like you did a million times before.

“I thought I…I thought I imagined you. Eywa you’re real.”

He pulled back and held you face in his hands, stroking your cheek idly, “of course I am real.” Your hand went up to rest on his. He was about to pull you in for a kiss but was stopped.

“Neteyam.” He knew that voice, his mother’s sharp tone cut through the air.

Neteyam didn’t let you go; he pulled you back to his body shielding you from them. His mother stalked towards them, her knife held in her hand, he knew if she got the opportunity she’d strike.

His father, brother and sister were behind her moments after. The tension was thick even though they were several paces behind his mother. Lo’ak watched in dread, holding tsireya’s hand to keep her close to him. Kiri furrowed her eyebrows. And Jake stood, jaw clenched.

Your eyes darted from his mother to his father, then his siblings. You had no idea who they were. He didn’t talk about them. You didn’t ask but you just knew in your gut. They were his family.

His mother’s voice was low and furious, “she’s one of them Neteyam.”

“She is not,” he snapped, still holding you close, “she saved me.”

“We thought you were dead. You vanished. For weeks!”

“She found me bleeding on that rock.” He yelled, voice cracking. “I wouldn’t died if not for her. She stayed, she cared for me. She—”

He looked down at you again his hands bringing you impossibly closer. His breathing hitched, “she never left.”

Neytiri turned to you. Her eyes were sharp, untrusting, like a blade drown just before it strikes. “Why?” She asked, voice low and hard, “why help him? Why hide him? Why not bring him back to us?” Her voice got louder, more strained.

You opened your mouth be no words came, before it could, Neteyam a stepped in again, more desperate now. “She didn’t know who I was. I threatened to kill her the first night—had a knife pointed at her. And still…she took care of me. She didn’t even know my name! She just…helped.

His mother’s lips pressed into a tight line. Her stare hadn’t heft you. Every instinct in her screamed danger, this was no ordinary woman. You were from the RDA, an avatar. And her son had chased hallways across the sky to fall into your arms like a wounded child seeking home.

Lo’ak broke the silence with a step forward, “so what now?” His voice was low and heavy. “We just…leave him here?”

Jake placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

Kiri whispered, “he is not the same. You saw him these past weeks… he wasn’t himself without her.”

Still his mother didn’t back down, “that does not make her safe.”

But Neteyam turned back towards her, tears barely held back, “she is. She is the only reason I am alive, the reason I’m standing here. Please, sa’nok.”

For the first time in her life, Neytiri hesitated.

She saw her son not as the warrior, but as the boy, fractured and trembling. She looked again at you, not as a soldier, but as someone holding him like he mattered.

She didn’t lower her guard. Not yet. But she took one step back.

Jake’s voice finally broke in, loud and firm. “Alright enough! You will tell us everything! And I mean everything boy. Right now.”

Neteyam sat bringing your body down with his. Held you close legs wrapped around you as if to crest a barrier between you and everyone else. Jake walked to Neytiri and took her knife sitting her down gently and sat next to her, Kiri and Lo’ak on the other side of him and tsireya slightly behind Lo’ak.

“What happened brother?” Kiri asked him softly.

He looked at her before his eyes dart to his parents then brother, “the day I got shot on the rock, I didn’t die. I’m sure you all thought so but I didn’t. She was in the ship and swan up, only noticed me on the rock after.”

“I noticed he was alive and I… couldn’t just let him die” you finally spoke. You sat up as straight as you could since it was clear Neteyam wasn’t about to let you go.

“I brought him here because I didn’t have anything on me out there to help him. He was unconscious and he felt until almost the next day, when he woke up naturally, he had questions. Threatened to stab me, when he found out I was RDA he tried to leave but his injury was severe, he couldn’t even walk.” You explain softly.

The next few days I didn’t trust her, I didn’t even want her help, but she stayed with me all night in the couch since I couldn’t go anyways her else. Helped me clean up the dry blood if my skin in places I couldn’t reach. She cooked and fed me, helped me regain my strength.” Neteyam said softly.

“And I thought about you all… everyday. But I was in no condition to travel, and I couldn’t make her take me home. For her to fly in there and get an arrow to the chest? She’s the reason I’m alive, she… I...” he couldn’t find the words.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jake asked.

“I didn’t know how’d you would all react to this. It’s not that I wanted to keep it from you. It’s more I didn’t want you to think that she is a bad person because of where she comes from. Dad she…didn’t even know my name.. if she had some alternative agenda I would have been in a jail cell of dead. Not here.” He gestured to the cabin.

“We bonded over music and stars, we didn’t talk about the past or the RDA we were just in the moment, I didn’t have to worry, I wasn’t on guard for the first time in years, I relaxed.” He continued.

Jake exhaled through his nose and rubbed the bridge of it, his elbow propped on his knee. “So l-let me get this straight,” he said slowly, glancing between the two of you. “You were out here. With her. For over a month. And you didn’t think to send word back to us?”

“What was I supposed to do dad? Send a carrier pigeon? A text? Say ‘hey dad I’m alive, this pretty girl from the RDA saved me and now I’m living in a cabin in a cliff I’ll be back in a couple weeks.’”

Lo’ak snorted and Kiri covered her mouth to stop from laughing. Neytiri let out a hiss and Jake raises a hand, “don’t sass me boy. You can see where I might have issues understanding this situation.”

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud.

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torukmaktoskxawng · 1 year ago

Text

Sleeping Beauty - Lo'ak & Neteyam

Part of the Sleeping Beauty Series (all stand-alone)

inspo

Pairing: Lo'ak/Fem!Avatar Reader, Neteyam/Fem!Avatar Reader

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, minors dni, aged-up characters, somnophilia, mate bites, spitting, cussing, unprotected p in v (wrap it, skxawngs), orgasm denial, jacking off, praise, dirty talk, nipple play, squirting, edging, surprise threesome (but they're only into you, not each other), mentions of creampie, cumming on external places, after care, creative use of Na'vi words to avoid saying Y/n, etc.

A/n: Adult Lo'ak & Neteyam done by the one and only @ cinetrix 💕

It was a long day for the both of you, with Lo'ak coming back from a tedious hunt while you were out-- essentially running a bunch of errands for Max with a grocery list of plant samples he wanted you to go find. You hadn't had any time to stop and see Lo'ak as it was running late and Max needed help labeling and taking stock of said samples. Unable to properly fit in the lab in your avatar, you decide to lay her down for the night in your marui and break the connection, opening your eyes to find yourself in your human form, lying on your back in a soft-glowing link bay.

You eagerly got to work on the samples alongside Max, hoping to get it all done before the day got too late. Day quickly turned to night and you heard the Omatikaya going about their evening outside the lab, preparing and then partaking in their communal feast. It disheartened you to know that you already missed dinner with Lo'ak, knowing that by the time you were finally done with your work, he'd likely be so tired and cuddling your unconscious avatar form. Normally, you don't sleep in your avatar, no matter how much Lo'ak begs you. It's easier to refuse him when he's away from the clan and you have the marui to yourself, but other times, well, he's very persuasive. But Max and even Norm have warned you time and time again that you shouldn't make that a habit and it's required of you to return to your human body at night, or else it'll eventually be just a husk-- a shell of your former self. So far, you've been pretty stern with Lo'ak about this and only gave into him a few very rare times, which usually start with him wanting to take you somewhere private at night so the two of you could be alone. Usually, that then leads to several rounds of orgasms that make you too tired, and oh no, suddenly you can't break your link and you're forced to sleep soundly on Lo'ak's chest. What a shame.

Sleeping beside him, especially in your avatar, is like a reward of its own, and it's so comforting. Sleeping beside him as a human is nice, sure, but with your avatar, you don't have glass obstructing your view or any kisses Lo'ak might want to sneak you. Tonight, after not seeing him all day, was something you really needed.

As much as you knew that linking for long periods of time could be harmful to your human body, you really wanted to be able to sleep alongside your mate tonight. So, with quick feet, you return to your link bay and lie down, barely letting the lid close over you before closing your eyes and forcing your mind to relax. The link connected successfully, and you were whisked away to your avatar, led by a light at the end of that familiar tunnel.

Waking up was slow, your avatar's eyes too heavy to open just yet, but a different sensation you were unfamiliar with waking up was happening between your legs. A brutal force that was slowly going faster, shoving its way into your gummy, and surprisingly wet pussy, feeling your thighs sticky with clear liquid. Your ears finally hear through the thick fog of your mind, catching the sounds of grunts, in sync with the loud sound of skin slapping together. One brutal push had your body moving up the mat an inch, and it felt as though it pierced the roof of your cervix, causing a quiet whimper to leave your lips. Now you are finally aware of a hot, growing coil, tightening at the bottom of your stomach, threatening to snap at any moment. There was no build-up or foreplay involved for you, just immediately waking to your orgasm ready to flood your entire system.

You gasp as the coil snaps and you leak around the thick cock shoving its way inside of you, some of your juices even splashing on both yours and the abdomen nestled between your legs every time they thrust in and out, prolonging your climax and making your thighs shake around what you assumed was hips. Still bullying their way into your body even as your orgasm finally cools down, you're more aware of how hard and twitchy the cock inside you felt, hitting your sweet spot each time and punching a gasp from your lungs with each thrust.

Finally opening your eyes, you look around and find your mate sitting off to the side, leaning against the foundation of your shared marui while his fist slowly runs up and down his hard, leaking dick, the tip tinged a dull purple color, indicating oversensitivity. Your lips are dry as you try to form words, "Lo... Lo'ak?"

"Hey, mamas," he grins wolfishly, his hand's pace on his cock remaining the same speed as he casually spoke to you, "I hope you don't mind, but I thought Neteyam could spend the night."

Between your orgasm and your sleepy mind, everything was still foggy, and it took a moment before you finally processed his words. Something clicked inside your head when you finally registered that Lo'ak wasn't the one who made you cum, sitting much too far away. Lo'ak wasn't the one currently shoving his way inside your body like he wanted to permanently blend your bodies together into one being. When you turn your head to look up at whoever is currently above you, rearranging your guts, you're met with none other than your mate's older brother. And despite the sweat and crease on his brow, Neteyam has a brash smile etched on his lips when your eyes meet.

"Kaltxì," he huffs out, the word rushed and followed by a rough grunt that escapes his mouth when his hips press flush against yours, your wet walls still occasionally pulsing around his cock in a welcoming embrace, making him dizzy with euphoria.

Your head was spiraling with so many questions, unable to voice them as Neteyam fucks you dumb, too cock drunk to form the words. Over the past year, you would periodically wake in your avatar form, sore and leaking with whatever mess Lo'ak left in between your legs, and when you eventually confront him about it, you both came to the agreement that he's more than welcome to use your avatar for whatever pleasure he has while you're not linked to it... just as long as he makes it up to you later on. You want a little bit of fun of your own, after all.

Lo'ak shuffles closer to you, his cock forgotten for the moment as he reaches you and plants quick and warm kisses all over your face before moving to whisper in your ear, "I wanted to show him all the... advantages of having a dreamwalker as my mate."

Even with Lo'ak's words currently distracting you, you couldn't ignore the way your body slowly began to grow warm and tight again, Neteyam angling his hips and hitting your sweet spot each time so that you were ready for another climax. You gasp at the sensation, reaching up to hang onto something, which ends up being the back of Lo'ak's neck.

Your mate grins before kissing your ear, "I'm so proud of you, mamas. You managed to take my cock before taking Neteyam's and waking up."

That explains why your body felt so sore and sticky, feeling more full than you would imagine with just Neteyam inside you. It felt as though you had run a marathon, but there were no physical signs of Lo'ak on your body until your free hand reached up and grazed his bite scar on your neck. There's a fresh bruise forming over the mate mark, confirming Lo'ak's lewd words.

Neteyam groaned and plunged deep and frantic into you when he watched the dawning realization cross your features. You make an identical sound, the thought of the older Sully brother currently fucking both his cock and Lo'ak's seed further into your womb sending you into a frenzy of soft moans, throwing your head back and arching up into Neteyam's thrusts.

"Great Mother," Neteyam hissed, "She just gripped me tighter."

"Aw, do you like that, baby?" Lo'ak purs into your ear, his lips grazing the shell of it, making it twitch, "Do you like it when I use your holes while you're unconscious? Or do you like it when I invite someone over to use your body without your knowledge?"

You groan loudly as your answer, and the sound spurs Neteyam to reach down and lightly pinch your already abused clit to the same rhythm of his thrusts. Lo'ak moves one of his hands to fondle one of your exposed breasts, and you faintly note that you are completely naked, remembering you had fallen asleep wearing a worn-out RDA shirt meant for avatars. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that same shirt torn to pieces on the floor a few feet from your head.

Lo'ak pinches your nipple, watching it harden before moving to the other one to do the same thing. It leaves you moaning and writhing, practically impaling yourself on Neteyam's cock, your hips rising to meet his own thrusts, much to his delight. His tail unconsciously curls around your thigh, coiling tighter and tighter with each sound you make. Meanwhile, Lo'ak's tail had found your ankle and used it to keep you spread for his brother while he took one of your nipples in his mouth and the other in his hand, switching once or twice to lather both of your hardened buds in his saliva.

"Lo'ak, please..." you whine, feeling your body begin to tighten with anticipation. Neteyam felt light-headed with how hard you were gripping his length. He can barely even pull out you were so tight, holding his cock captive in your dark, wet cavern.

"What is it, mamas?" Lo'ak asks innocently, though one look at his grinning smile, and you know it was just a facade.

"N-Need to cum," you stammer.

"Hm," his yellow eyes twinkle with mischief, leaning down to mutter his reply into your lips, "That's not up to me, baby. Neteyam is taking your pleasure right now. Only he gets to decide if you cum again or not."

He takes advantage of your mouth opening in shock, spitting on your tongue, forcing you to inhale a soft gasp of surprise. His eyes dart back up to meet yours and you can't help the moan that escapes you at the heat you see in his gaze. Lo'ak leans down to kiss your lips in a dirty, sensual display of affection, exploring your mouth with his tongue while purring into your lips, your body proven affected by his actions as you unexpectedly slam your hips against Neteyam's.

The older brother's hand quickly grabs a hold of your waist to stop your movements, spewing out a song of Na'vi curses as he suddenly stops thrusting. He huffs and wheezes, any more movement from you would've led to him cumming too fast, let alone inside your pussy, which wasn't on his agenda, no matter how tempting it was. As pussy drunk as he was in this moment, he still had some sliver of respect for his brother and his wishes. Neteyam could fuck you as much as he wanted tonight, but he wasn't allowed to finish inside you.

"Stay still, yawne," Neteyam whispers breathlessly, trying to think of unpleasant things to keep himself from cumming. A small burst of confidence takes over as a smirk begins to play on his lips as his fingers slow down over your clit, "Or you won't get to cum at all."

He looks down at you, though it was hard to see your eyes with Lo'ak in the way, making out with you as your lips make vulgar sounds as they slide together, strings of saliva connecting you to your mate every time the need for air takes over. Neteyam forces himself to look away, the sight of your kiss-bitten lips, so swollen and wet, made his cock twitch inside of you.

Lo'ak gasps quietly for air before leaning down to kiss your cheek and whisper in your ear, "Go on, baby. I want you to. You can beg for my brother, it's okay... We used to share a lot of things growing up. This is hardly any different. So go ahead. Beg for Neteyam to let you cum. I don't mind."

You whimper as you feel Lo'ak's hot breath fan over the side of your neck, squeezing your eyes shut as your thighs clench around Neteyam's waist. With your mate's permission, you don't waste time opening your mouth and shamelessly begging, "Please, Neteyam. Please make me cum! Oh, fuck--"

The whine that escapes you will haunt you later with a less foggy head, but it's the only thing you could do in protest when you feel Neteyam completely slide out of your pussy, tip and all. He waits until you finally open your pretty eyes to look up at him, then he smiles.

"There you are. Keep your eyes on me, yawne, and I'll let you cum."

You nod obediently, parting your lips to moan as Neteyam gently smacks his tip over your clit and then easily slips between your wet folds. It's so hard to keep your eyes open when his cock slowly and painstakingly slides into you, shoving the tip deep inside until he's sure he's pressing against your sweet spot, then pulls out and repeats the same motion, as slowly as before.

Lo'ak moves out of your space and sits back on his feet, taking his aching cock back in hand and jerking off to the same motions Neteyam makes when entering your pussy, the younger Sully biting his lip when the motion only relieved a small bit of the torture he put himself through by trying to cum again after already doing so inside you. Lo'ak watches your face as you're brought back over the edge of ecstasy, eyelashes fluttering, cheeks flushing, and swollen mouth open agape. You keep your eyes on Neteyam, but you can see Lo'ak just in the corner of your peripheral and you know what he's doing. Without warning, you reach a hand out to wrap around Lo'ak's cock and his hips jolt as if he'd been shocked.

"Shit-!" Lo'ak gasped as you continued to pump his dick, up and down at the same pace as Neteyam's thrusts. Your mate moans loudly, thrusting into your hand to try and urge you to go faster, "That's it, baby... don't stop."

You obey, even going a little faster and smiling between moans when Lo'ak starts to whimper, just the way you like him, knowing he was close. His whimpers are quickly forgotten, even if only for a moment, when Neteyam starts to thrust harder, forcing your eyes to roll back as you feel your body burning up from the inside out, the coil unbearably tight as your toes curl.

Neteyam's hips stop, flush against yours as he growls, "Eyes."

Your gaze immediately snaps back to him, and he chuckles under his breath, "Good girl."

His fingers move side to side against your clit, then in circles. He repeats this pattern when he noticed the way your pussy clenches around his cock, a deep growl vibrating from the back of his throat at the sensation. He can't keep edging himself like this or else he'll really lose control and then he won't pull out, no matter how much he knows he has to. So, he decides not to torture you for long as he finally nods.

"Now, yawne. You can cum."

Lo'ak whines at the feel of your hand squeezing him a little tighter, his precum leaking down your knuckles, "That's it, baby, you heard him. Cum for us, mamas, that's it. Cum on Neteyam's cock. Show him what you can do."

A long series of moans and soft screams tumble from your mouth as you throw your head back and chase after your high. Slamming your hips down on Neteyam's cock and using him, you make sure he hits your sweet spot every time before your coil snaps and your liquid spews everywhere, your whole body twitching as your juices leak out from around Neteyam's cock and splashes over his abs and bioluminescent freckles, slowly dripping down his delicious blue skin.

You're still cumming when Lo'ak follows suit, gently batting your hand away so he could take his cock in hand and finish over your tits, moaning and whimpering unapologetically as his cum splatters over your chest, pearly white droplets sliding over your nipples and down the curves of your breasts. Lo'ak gasps and groans at the sight, so whiny and desperate, continuously fisting his cock and painfully holding the tip so he squeezes out every last drop onto your tits.

Neteyam's less vocal than his brother, but you still manage to catch his climax as well, feeling not one but two different spurts of cum on your body, mixed with Lo'ak's loud whines and a soft growl you were less familiar with. As you're coming down from your high, you peer down between your legs to see Neteyam gripping tightly onto his cock, slowly softening beneath his fingertips as long strings of his seed dance and paint over your stomach, collecting in your belly button. Looking up, Neteyam's face is an absolute wreck, flushed in a darker shade of color, the color of his eyes now reverting to small, tiny rings, shrouded with lust. He's clenching his teeth, keeping himself quiet, much to your disappointment, but you don't complain since he has yet to stop circling your clit, drawing out the last of your orgasm until it becomes too sensitive. Once you whine in discomfort, he immediately stops his movements.

The marui is filled with huffing and panting, all three of you clawing for air as your bodies cool down, turning into jello and unable to properly form words yet. You have to lick your lips as they've dried, but Lo'ak takes it a step further and kisses you, slowly, passionately, and less desperate. While kissing Lo'ak you feel Neteyam's hands in the crook of your knees, untangling them from around his waist and setting them on the floor while his body heat vanishes from your skin. You're about to whine into Lo'ak's mouth in protest when a warm, wet cloth meets your raw and fluttering pussy, gently cleaning you of any fluids before moving onto your stomach and breasts. You don't miss the way Neteyam kisses both of your knees as he works at cleaning you up, making your tail bat gently against the ground. Lo'ak softly groans into your lips before pulling away, his smile lopsided and boyish before he kisses your nose.

"You did so good for us, mamas. You've never woken up when I'm in the middle of fucking you before. Neteyam must feel awfully lucky."

Both you and Neteyam hum in response, but otherwise say nothing as your lust gives way to exhaustion. Lo'ak lays down beside you and wraps you in his arms, pressing your back against his front and kissing the base of your kuru, smiling to himself when your tail gently slaps his hip. Neteyam sighs and lays down on the other side of you, the two of you facing each other but at a more respectable distance, even though you both wish for him to move closer. You settle by holding his hand in yours while relaxing into Lo'ak's embrace, smiling to yourself over what just happened as you close your eyes to sleep.

While it's true that you've never connected to your avatar when Lo'ak was in the middle of using you, after tonight, you definitely need to be able to time this better for next time.

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @inolaphoenix @neteyamsoare @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter @neteyamsyawntu @neteyamsl0ver @ikeyniofthetayrangi @neteyamssyulang

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ohdeersthings · 5 months ago

Text

Okay, so you know that scene from Disney's Hercules? With Meg when she stands up while ringing out her hair and the water is beautiful behind her and Hercules is whipped? Yeah that but with Neteyam.

~.~

After relocating to the Metkayina and learning their ways, Neteyam had finally grown into one of their own, in both spirit and body. Now an adult, he grew taller, broader, his physic left many girls and women watching him like predators from a distance.

Coming back from a successful hunting trip, he carried a large net of fish on his back, Ao'nung and other men walking along side him with their own. "I'd say today was an excellent hunt,"Ao'nung had a smug look on his face, dumping the net off fish into a large basket that the clans cooks used in their little pavilion to keep track of the food brought in.

"You only say that because you got the biggest catch of the day," Neteyam gave a playful glare to his friend, shoving the next clan leader out of his way before dumping his own net of fish as well.

"Ah, come on my friend," Ao'nung placed his arm around the dark blue Na'vi, giving him a teasing noogie to the head before the man pushed him with a growl, pointing his finger at Ao'nung.

"Keep on, we'll see who's the better hunter," Neteyam challenged, their friends of the group letting out hoots of encouragement at the sound of the banter. "So you say Forest Boy," Ao'nung was quick to push Neteyam down out of surprise, taking off into the village laughing.

"Ao'nung, you skxawng!" Neteyam quickly stood up and took off after his friend, a grin on his face as he quickly caught up. Ao'nung had never been that fast of a runner.

"Watch it!" A older clansmen yelled, pulling his mate out of the way of the two young men who were too busy acting like children than the adults they were. "Sorry!" Neteyam waved back in apology, not looking to where he was running when he collided with something, or rather someone.

Someone much shorter, much softer, much plumper than him, he noted before both were sent flying to the sea from the walk way, Neteyam briefly hearing his friends chortle of laughter from above the water.

He resurfaced and shook his braids out of his face, Ao'nung holding his stomach, pointing with a laugh as the other guys joined in. "Way to use your eyes Neteyam, I should take notes," One of the hunters mocked, Ao'nung reaching a hand out now to pull his friend up.

It was only when Neteyam turned to view who he'd run into that his breath caught in his throat, eyes wide as he saw the most beautiful woman.

She stood a few feet away onto a lower part of a marui she'd climbed onto. Half bent over to ring our her hair, her eyes trailing up his person as she stood up, her eyes shining in the sunlight like the sea behind her, painting the most gorgeous picture in his eyes. One he didn't wanna forget.

"You are probably the most lucky or unlucky bastard ever," Ao'nung mumbled, a grin on his face as he wrapped an arm around his star struck friend, the rest of the hunters now looking at the young woman.

Only she was not just any young woman, she was the daughter of the lead hunter in the clan, a true treasure to any young man who could gain her father's approval, which really meant her approval.

"Who, is that," Neteyam was starstruck as she girl looked him up and down, water trailing down her body to places he wanted to explore in a more, secluded, area with just the two of them.

"Why don't you go find out," Ao'nung pushed his friend in her direction, Neteyam tripping over his feet to walk properly at first but approached the young lady who watched him walk over, a small hint of amusement hidden in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," Neteyam bowed his head in apology, somewhat guilty for having run into her, but also relishing the fact he had.

"Mmm, for someone who is such a wonderful hunter, you're not that good with watching where you're going," Her voice was firm but soft, almost playfully condescending the poor man who felt ready to drop to his knees.

"If I'd been watching, I never would've run into you, and I would've hated to miss that opportunity," He flashed a grin in her direction, the girl crossing her arms as she gave one back, "A shame this will be your only opprotunity for the day," she huffed, turning around and letting her hair hit him in the face before beginning to walk off.

"Wait, you don't have to run off, I didn't even get your name?" Neteyam called out to her, watching as she stopped only a few feet away, turning to look over her shoulder, "I said you already used your opprotunity today, who knows what opprotunity you have tomorrow," she smirked, flashing her fangs before walking away, hips swaying just a little bit more than before.

"What a fine opprotunity indeed," Neteyam hummed, his eyes trailing after her body as she disappeared around the corner of Marui's.

#neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam #Avatar #atwow imagines #imagines Neteyam #neteyam imagine #metkayina #ao'nung #aonung x you #aonung x

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d0llcuries · 8 months ago

Note

HIIII 🫶 i wanted to ask if i could request a neteyam x omatikaya readerrr where she’s caring for him while he’s healing from the bullet so it’s like just a bit after the war (bc in my head he didn’t die 😔😔😔) and she’s checking up on him making sure he’s okay distracting him from pain/the situation hopefully that makes some sense just some cute stuff like that hehe. (im delusional 💓)

THANKS BABE

KISS YOU BETTER

pairing(s): neteyam x fem!na'vi reader

summary: healing is a process. a slow, lonely and frightful one. you do what you can to be there for him, forever thankful to eywa that he still has breath in his lungs.

author's note: i am the world's fattest dillydallyer, i fear. bear with me folks please and thankss!!

neteyam’s chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, his skin too warm under your palm where his heartbeat drums, faint, beneath layers of gauze and healing paste. the evening light, watery and red through the fibers of the marui pod, filters down over him, casting a glow that makes his blue skin look brighter.

a faint lustre of sweat lies at his temples. you can’t tell if it is the heat or the strain of healing that makes him look fragile, but it is unsettling. it feels like months have passed since that day. the bullet. the blood. the scream that ripped from your throat like you could tear the world in half with it.

he's been in and out of it for days. sometimes, he wakes with a shudder, his fingers twitching as if he’s reaching for his knife or his bow or something to hold onto before his muscles relax and he lays dormant once again. you wonder, not for the first time, what he dreams of now. if he’s still out there, somewhere between life and death, between the stars and the ground, or if he’s here, with you, feeling the soft pressure of your fingers on his skin, the warmth of your breath on his neck. you wonder if he feels the way your hands shake, if he knows how scared you are, even though you don’t say it.

“yawne,” he murmurs, voice raspy, cracking around the edges. it’s the only word he seems to have the strength for lately. my love. you could hear it a thousand times, and still, it would twist your insides in knots, the feeling churning beneath your ribs like roots digging into soil that’s too dry to give way. he says it like it is his only bind to the world.

the air inside the tent is sticky, thick, a little too sweet with the musk of old herbs and the iron tang of blood. you can taste it on your tongue as you breathe, cloying, like when you bite too hard into a mango and the juice drips down your chin, half-spoiled, but still too good to stop. the world is settling outside the night drawing in like a slow breath and inside, the hush of it, the weight of it, sinks into your skin, pools behind your eyes, heavy and aching.

his lashes cast long shadows across his cheeks, his lips chapped and parted as he pulls in uneven breaths. you move carefully, your hands trembling just a little as they skim over his ribs, up to his face, cradling his jaw in your palms. he feels fragile. your body aches in ways you can’t describe, the knots in your muscles from sleeping beside him, always curled up in awkward positions, always watchful. your knees are sore from kneeling too long, your neck stiff from leaning against the wooden posts of the tent. but all that discomfort it feels so small, so inconsequential, in the face of his suffering.

you stroke his hair back, letting the braids slip through your fingers one by one. the roots are damp, curls matted against his scalp. you hum a little under your breath, some half-forgotten melody your mother used to sing when you were small, when the days felt longer and the nights less lonely. the sound barely reaches your ears, swallowed by the thick air, but neteyam stirs, just a fraction, his lips twitching like he's trying to smile, trying to remember how.

dried blood like rust staining the fresh bandages you’ve wrapped around him. your hands know the routine now. the careful unraveling of cloth, the soft hiss of his breath when the cool air touches the wound, the gentle pat of the herbs pressed to his skin. you move like you’re in a trance, like this is a dream, and maybe it is. maybe none of this is real.

you press another kiss to his lips this time, barely more than a whisper of touch, but it feels like a promise. i’m here. i’m staying.

you trace the lines of his collarbone, the curve of his jaw, your touch light, as if you’re afraid he’ll shatter under your hands. you won’t leave me, you think, pressing your lips to the hollow of his throat, you can’t.

you kiss him again, soft, featherlight kisses that brush his skin like a promise, like a prayer. and with each one, you hope—this one will heal him. this one will be enough. but hope is like the wind, you think. it slips through your fingers no matter how tightly you hold on.

so you lie there, listening to the sound of his breathing, the faint rustle of the tent, the hum of the forest, and you wonder how many more kisses it will take before he’s whole again.

his presence is a tether, thin as it may be, binding you here. holding you together, even though the world outside feels as though it has unraveled completely. you sit beside him, legs curled under you, skin tingling with exhaustion. your bones feel like they might fold in on themselves, but none of that matters. wake up.

a sound escapes him. his lips move—just the faintest twitch, but it is something. he is here.

“neteyam,” you whisper. saying his name and it aches to let it out.

his lips part, a dry rasp of breath slipping through, and you reach for the gourd beside you, lifting it to his mouth. the water pools in the curve of his lips, slow and steady.

“drink,” you murmur, your voice catching on the word.

he drinks, the water moving down his throat in quiet gulps, each one easing the tightness there, smoothing the lines of strain from his face. you watch the way his throat moves, the tension softening just a little. when he is done, you lower the gourd, your thumb brushing against his lips, catching the drops that linger there.

your breath catches in your throat as neteyam’s eyes flutter open, the softest sliver of gold peeking through the lashes you have been watching so closely, day after day. your heart leaps before you can even stop it, a wild, untamed thing in your chest, and you do not know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. your hands hover above him, trembling with the need to touch him, to pull him into you, but you stop yourself, knowing how fragile he still is. every fiber of your being is vibrating with joy, your body a live wire of emotions, but you hold yourself back, afraid of overwhelming him, of hurting him.

“nete!” you breathe, the word coming out as half-laughter, half-sob, and you are trembling with the effort it takes not to throw yourself into his arms. your fingers brush his cheek, feather-light, as if he might disappear if you press too hard. the ache in your chest is too much, too bright, and all you can do is smile down at him, wide and breathless, blinking back the tears that blur your vision. he is here, really here, and you do not know how to contain it, how to quiet the storm of happiness that surges through you. you lean down, your forehead just barely touching his, and whisper, “you are awake!” your voice shaking with the weight of all the things you cannot say, all the joy you cannot express without breaking apart.

“you should be resting,” he says, and the sound of it makes your breath catch again. you have heard this voice so many times, but now it feels new, fragile.

you let out a soft laugh, half surprise, half relief, your fingers drifting through his hair, catching the strands that have come loose from his braids. “so should you,” you whisper, feeling the way his body hums beneath your touch, the way his presence pulls you in like the tide, slow and unrelenting.

he makes a small sound, something between a sigh and a hum, and it vibrates through your bones, quiet and deep. his hand tightens on yours, just a little, but enough. enough to remind you that he is here, that you are tethered to him still.

“i missed you,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them, too heavy with meaning. it is not just the missing of these last few days, these long, aching hours. it is the missing of something bigger, something that stretches across time. something that you cannot name.

he hums again, and you feel it in the space between your ribs, that soft agreement. you missed him too, even though you were never really gone. his breathing slows, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there is peace on his face.

“you are going to get better,” you whisper, as if saying it out loud might make it true. as if the words might stitch him back together, might pull him from the edge of whatever dark place he has been hovering near. you press your lips to his brow, kissing the smooth skin there, untouched by the pain that has tried to claim him.

another kiss, this one softer, to the tip of his nose, then his jaw, your lips trailing down to the place where his pulse beats steadily beneath the surface of his skin. he is still here.

you press your mouth to that spot, feeling the rhythm of his life under your lips, and you think, “you know,” you murmur against his skin, “if kissing you could heal you faster, you would be running by now.”

his chest moves with a low sound, something between a chuckle and a breath, and it fills the space between you like music. it makes you smile, makes your heart stutter and swell, and you nuzzle into him, your face pressed against the warmth of his neck, your hand splayed over his chest, trying to anchor yourself in this moment.

“you are doing a good job, then,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but it is full of something light, something playful.

your heart leaps at the sound, and you lift your head to look at him, to see the faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. his eyes are still closed, but there is life in him now, a flicker of the boy you know—the boy who makes you laugh, the one who makes you feel like the world is not such a terrible place after all.

“then i will keep doing it,” you say, pressing another kiss to his cheek, your smile wide and soft, full of too much feeling.

“do not stop,” he murmurs, and it is almost playful, almost light, and you can feel your heart swelling again, pushing against your chest like it might burst.

you press your forehead to his, your body melting into his warmth, and the world outside feels so far away now, like it cannot reach you here.

“i will not,” you promise, the words slipping from your lips like a vow, like something sacred.

the silence returns, but it is full now, heavy with the weight of everything you have not said, everything you do not need to say. his breathing steadies, slow and rhythmic, and your body sinks into his, your exhaustion finally easing, replaced by something softer. something that feels like peace.

and in this quiet, in this small, fragile moment, you feel it—the hope that has been hiding in the corners of your heart. you feel it blooming, slow and tentative, but there, growing in the space between you.

because he is still here. and you are still here. and that, somehow, is enough.

the sun was unforgiving, but you dug your fingers into the sand anyway, letting it gather beneath your nails, small grains cool against the heat that pressed down on your skin. the ocean sang before you, waves rolling softly toward the shore, brushing against your toes before retreating, almost shy in their touch. you tilted your face up toward the sky, letting the light cascade over you, trying to soak in its warmth, trying to let it chase away the heavy ache in your chest.

you didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but it didn’t matter. you came here often now, to this spot just beyond the village, where you could hear the water breathing, feel the sand shift beneath you, and pretend, for a moment, that everything was right. you dug your fingers in deeper, the sensation grounding you, pulling you back from the thoughts that threatened to drag you under.

neteyam was healing. slowly, carefully, but the wounds were still fresh, the memory of his blood staining your hands still too sharp. there were nights you woke with that same metallic scent in your nose, the image of him falling, so still and quiet, burned behind your eyelids. even now, as the sun beat down on you, your mind circled back to it—over and over.

you curled your fingers into fists, the sand slipping through them, leaving nothing but the feel of it sticking to your palms. you hated this. this waiting, this stillness. but you hated it more for him. neteyam wasn’t made to lie still. he was built for movement, for the hunt, for the wild freedom of the forest and sky. now, he was trapped. and in a way, so were you.

your eyes flickered toward the horizon, where the sea stretched out in endless blue. there was a celebration tonight—the metkayina’s way of welcoming a new season. you remembered the last one, how the village had come alive, vibrant and wild. you’d danced with neteyam then, under the stars, laughing as the ocean crashed around your feet. everything had felt light, easy. before.

now, the thought of going felt… wrong. how could you join in their joy when so much of yours was tethered to him, back in that marui, lying still and quiet? how could you celebrate without him by your side?

you pushed yourself up slowly, your body resisting the movement, as if it too was reluctant to leave this spot. you wiped the sand from your hands, shaking your head at your own thoughts. no neteyam, no joy. it was simple, really. without him, nothing felt complete.

the marui was bathed in soft light when you returned, the warm glow of the afternoon filtering in through the slats. it was quieter now, the village settling into the rhythm of evening. inside, neteyam lay where you left him, though his eyes fluttered open as you stepped closer. kiri and tuk were still there, but kiri shot you a small, tired smile, relief evident in the way her shoulders sagged.

“thank you,” she murmured, barely audible, as she stood, tugging tuk up gently. tuk looked up at you, her eyes bright as she offered a tiny smile, her fingers brushing your leg as she passed by. “he’s all yours.”

you nodded, giving her a grateful look before she slipped out of the marui, tuk trailing behind her, the sound of their soft footsteps disappearing into the distance. and then there was only the quiet. the kind of quiet that settled easily between you and neteyam, comfortable, familiar, as if it had always been this way.

you knelt beside him, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, studying the way the light played over his skin. his breathing was slow, steady, and for a moment, all you could do was watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers twitched slightly as if he was reaching for something just out of grasp.

“they are gone?” his voice broke the silence, soft and low, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“they are gone,” you confirmed, your hand instinctively reaching for his cheek, fingers brushing over the warmth of his skin. it was a simple touch, one you found yourself craving more and more, needing the reassurance of his presence, of his life beneath your fingertips.

he leaned into your touch, his smile widening just a fraction, though it didn’t quite chase away the exhaustion that lingered in his eyes. “good.”

for a moment, you just sat there, letting the quiet stretch between you, not needing to fill it with words. you had said everything already, in the days following his injury, in the long hours spent by his side, watching over him while he healed. the words weren’t important. this was. being here. being with him.

the soft hum of the village outside broke the stillness, the faint sounds of preparation for the celebration beginning to drift into the marui. laughter echoed from somewhere far off, the rhythm of drums picking up in the distance, the promise of festivity hanging in the air. but you didn’t care for it, not tonight. not when neteyam was still here, still recovering. the idea of leaving him behind, of being anywhere without him, felt impossible.

“the festival,” he murmured suddenly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. his eyes opened fully now, locking onto yours with a quiet intensity. “you should go.”

your brow furrowed in confusion, tilting your head slightly as you searched his face. “why?”

“because you should,” he replied, as though the answer was obvious, his gaze flickering with something you couldn’t quite name. “you have not been out… you have not done anything in forever.”

“i do not need to,” you said simply, shrugging as though the thought had never occurred to you. because it hadn’t.

he shifted slightly, discomfort flashing briefly across his face, though he hid it well. “you should nkt miss out because of me. it is not fair.”

you blinked, the frustration flaring just beneath the surface. how could he think that? how could he even suggest that any of this was his fault, or that you were missing out on anything at all? he was here. and that was enough.

“neteyam,” you began softly, your fingers brushing over the curve of his cheekbone, trying to soothe the tension you saw building there. “i have fun wherever you are. it does not matter what is happening outside.”

his frown deepened, like he didn’t quite believe you, like he was still carrying the weight of guilt for everything that had happened—for being hurt, for making you stay. but you didn’t press him further. you knew he needed time to understand. you weren’t missing anything. the world could celebrate all it wanted outside; you’d remain here, tethered to him, with him.

the rest of the day unfolded in small moments. the kind that didn’t need words to fill them. you stayed by his side, sometimes talking, other times letting the soft sounds of the village drift in from outside, the lull of the ocean a constant, gentle presence. he watched you in those quiet moments, his eyes following you as you moved around the marui, his gaze lingering as though he needed the reassurance that you were still there, still with him.

the sun was low in the sky now, casting everything in hues of gold and pink. the sounds of the festival had grown louder, laughter mingling with the rhythmic beat of drums, the clinking of shells as decorations were strung along the walkways. the energy outside was palpable, the village alive with celebration, but inside your marui, the quiet remained.

neteyam shifted again, his body protesting the movement, though he masked the discomfort as best he could. his eyes flickered toward the entrance of the marui, the faintest trace of music filtering through the air.

he turned back to you, his gaze more focused this time, more determined. “go get something to eat.”

you blinked, your brows knitting together as you stared at him. “what?”

“food,” he repeated, his tone light but insistent. “from the festival. go grab some.”

narrowing your eyes, you studied his face. he hadn’t let you out of his sight for more than a few minutes in the past days, and now he was practically urging you to leave. “what are you planning?”

“nothing,” he replied. “i am hungry. go. please?”

your lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unconvinced, but you rose to your feet anyway, giving him one last look before slipping out of the marui. the air outside was cooler now, the night settling in around you, and you could feel the pulse of the village as you made your way toward the center, where the celebration was in full swing. your mind already drifted back to neteyam, wondering what he was up to, why he was so adamant about sending you away. it wasn’t like him. not now, not when he needed you.

the food spread along the long, low tables is almost too much to look at, piles of bright fruits and roasted fish, grains and herbs twisted into fragrant shapes, everything vibrant and rich, as though the night itself has bloomed into this feast. your fingers brush over the cool surface of a carved bowl, feeling the delicate grooves, the weight of the work that went into every small detail. you carefully fill your basket, trying not to disturb too much of the display, slipping a few extra pieces of fruit between the flatbread and smoked meats, thinking of tuk’s bright eyes when she sees what you have brought back. the thought brings a smile to your lips, but it is fleeting, tempered by the pull of responsibility that sits low in your stomach. neteyam is still weak, and you know he will not eat unless you bring him something.

“you are not staying?” tsireya’s voice is soft but lilting, a note of surprise carried by the night air as she steps toward you, her hair catching in the lantern light, strands of it glowing like spun copper. her eyes are wide and kind, her arms laden with shells strung together on thin threads, swaying with the easy grace of the ocean. she leans in, “you are always leaving so quickly. you should enjoy yourself tonight.”

you smile at her, tucking the basket closer to your side. “i wish i could,” you say, and it is the truth, though it feels like a half-formed thing on your tongue, like something left out in the sun too long. even as you speak, you feel the quiet distance between you and the festival, like you are watching it all from the other side of a glass wall. tsireya’s face softens, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes, but before she can say anything else, tuk comes bounding up, her small hands tugging at the hem of your skirt, her face lit up with excitement.

“you have to stay for the dancing!” tuk’s voice is bright, her breath coming quick from her running. she looks up at you with such earnestness that it tugs at something in your chest, the way only a child can, her wide eyes reflecting the shimmering lights around you like she is holding the stars themselves. tsireya gives you a look, one that is all gentle encouragement, a soft nudge in the direction of the night’s festivities, and for a moment, just a moment, you consider it. staying. letting the music and laughter carry you for just a little while, letting the world slip away for a few hours. but then the weight of the basket shifts in your hands again, grounding you back to reality, and you know you cannot. not tonight.

“another time,” you say, your voice softer now, tinged with a quiet apology you hope they will understand. you brush a hand over tuk's cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. “i promise.”

you returned as quickly as you could, stepping back into the marui with the scent of roasted fish and fruit clinging to the air. but the moment you walked inside, the food forgotten in your hands, you froze.

neteyam was standing.

his body was trembling slightly, one hand gripping the wall for support, but he was standing, his eyes bright with determination, his grin wide and boyish as he watched your stunned reaction.

“neteyam,” you whispered, barely able to speak, the shock freezing you in place. “what are you doing?”

“we are dancing,” he said simply, his voice soft but firm, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. as though this wasn’t a miracle.

you shook your head, taking a hesitant step forward, torn between wanting to scold him for pushing himself too far and being so overwhelmed with love for him you thought you might burst. “you should not be standing. you—”

but before you could finish, he reached for you, his hand catching yours gently, pulling you closer. “come on. just for a while.”

the music from the festival floated through the air, the soft, distant beat of the drums like a heartbeat, slow and steady. you let him guide you, your hands finding their way to his waist, careful not to press too hard, not to disturb the bandages still wrapped around his middle.

he moved slowly, his steps tentative but deliberate, and you moved with him, letting the rhythm carry you both, swaying gently in the small space of the marui. his breath was warm against your skin, his forehead resting against yours as you danced together, the world outside falling away.

“this is all i need,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “just you.”

you pressed your face into his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the warmth of his skin against yours. your heart swelled in your chest, the love you felt for him spilling over, too big to contain.

“you are all i need too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, your arms tightening around him.

and as the faint music played on, you stayed there, swaying together in the dim light of the marui, the world outside forgotten, everything you needed right here, in this moment, in each other.

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luvv4j4ybe11 · 1 year ago

Text

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝑺𝒆𝒂𝒕, 𝒀𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒆.

✧ 𝑵𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

✧ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚~ 𝑵𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒔

✧ 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔~ 𝑫𝒐𝒎!𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎, 𝑺𝒖𝒃!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝑪𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝑨𝒃 𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑩𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑(?), 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒅𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒍 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒔𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆/𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒍 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒊𝒕, 𝒍𝒎𝒌 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚<3

✧ 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔~ 𝒀𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒆=𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅, 𝒀𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒕𝒖= 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏, 𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒏=𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚(𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒇𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒔)

✧ 𝑫𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒃𝒚 @chilumitos 𝒂𝒏𝒅 @eloquentreverie

It was a chill day for you and your boyfriend, Neteyam. Just enjoying each other’s presence while the sound of rain hitting the roof soothed you both. You had your leg thrown over Neteyams larger one, the other laying out straight as your arms (barley) wrapped around his large frame. Your hand was comfortably placed on his toned stomach, as his was resting on the hilt of your ass.

Subconsciously, you start to tracing his abs in small shapes and patterns when your mind starts to fill with thoughts of getting on top of him and riding his abs until you make a complete mess all over him.

The thought makes you squeeze your thighs together, but that was stopped by his stronger one wedged between your legs comfortably. His thigh was just inches away from your throbbing cunt, making the urge to just wrap your small legs around his thigh and grind down onto it till you came get harder to ignore.

He smirks once he catches the change in you scent, trailing his hand up and down the skin of your ass. “Mhm, what is it, Babygirl?” His voice is enough to snap you out of your thoughts, but also enough to make your pussy leak even more. You take a few breathes before answering, trying desperately to calm yourself. “Nothing, why are you asking?” You say softly, continuing to delicately trace his abs.

He grumbles lowly at your response, siting up and pushing your small body onto his lap, causing you to let out a little startled noise at the quick movement. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, getting high off of your scent.“Maybe because I can smell how much your pretty pussy is leaking.” He says lowly while hooking his finger under your chin, leaning down to kiss your lips softly, braids cascading down his shoulders and hitting the sides of your face gently. “Now, what were you thinking about, Babygirl?”

The question has you staring at him blankly, a chill of anxiety ran down your spine at the thought of him seeing you differently if you were to tell him. “Uhm..” you start off, the intensity of his stare making you feel extremely small, and nervous. “I was thinking about..riding your abs” you say tentatively, looking down at the waist bead he made you when you first got together.

To your surprise though, your confession doesn’t make him disgusted, or make him storm out of your room in complete surprise and disgust. Instead, he just laughs, he fucking laughs. But it wasn’t judgmental of course, it was genuine and loving. Everything he ever is to you. “Shut the fuck up, Neteyam!! That’s not funny!!” You say through your own giggles, hitting him in the chest roughly.

“Yes it is, Sevin!” he replies, his laughter dying down softly. A pout forms on your face, pretty doe eyes boring into his siren eyes. “How?” You question, attitude laced in your tone. “Because, you said it like someone just died.” You laugh at his response, replaying your words in your head. “Whatever, Neteyam!” You quip, sarcasm apparent in your tone. “But, FYI, I only said it like that because I thought you were gonna have some type of negative response to it.” You add, voice honest and truthful.

He turns his head to the side and looks at you with a confused/sad expression, long braids falling down his shoulders and ears perking up with the same emotion. “Why would I have a negative reaction to that? You know I would never, ever, judge you, babydoll.” He says reassuringly, placing his large hand on your head and rubbing your scalp softly. “I know, I just..I got in my head, I guess. I’m glad you don’t find me weird or anything though.” You confess through a soft chuckle, making him laugh before he moves his hand from the top of your head to your chin, holding it firmly.

“I could never, babydoll. Truthfully though, I find it pretty adorable how pent up you get to the thought of me. My needy little girl just can’t help herself when she’s around me, huh?” His tone makes you pussy throb and ache, instinctively bucking your hips against his strong thigh. “Mhm..” you hum, eyes flickering from his own to his lips, you lean in to kiss him, but that’s stopped by his strong hand on your chin. “Awh, does my baby want a kiss?” He teases, rubbing his lips against your own, but not giving you the chance to kiss him back because of his firm grip on your chin.

“Mhm!” You whine, rubbing your needy pussy against his thigh quicker. He pecks your lips softly before kissing you fully, his pace slow and steady. The pace makes your head spin and clit throb, hips speeding up the longer he kisses you. You whine when you feel his warm tongue against your own, mindlessly kissing him faster to feel more of him. He wraps his hand around your throat gently, a silent warning to follow his pace, not yours.

Once you feel his hand wrap around your throat, you knew you were a fucking goner. Turning into putty in his hands almost automatically. The amount of slick that was coming from your pussy soaked your shorts, leaving a trail all over Neteyams thigh. He groans lowly at the smell of your arousal, breaking the kiss reluctantly, a line of spit connecting your plump lips together.

He damn near rips your shorts in half when he takes them off before he lays down, pulling you onto his abs roughly. You hover over him slightly, scared of hurting him even though he’s so much more bigger than you.

“Teyam, I-“ you start

“You aren’t gonna hurt me. Now, take a seat, yawne.” He orders, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you down onto him.

Both of you gasp softly once you feel his hard abs against your soft, puffy pussy. The feeling so new and foreign. Your hands find purchase just below his ribs, slowly rocking your hips back and forth against the muscles. Whining softly when you feel his firm abs hitting your clit every time you move.

“Oh..fuck, teyam..” the grip on your hips gets tighter, soft groans filling your ears the more you rock against him. “Mhm, that’s it, babygirl. Such a pretty little slut for me.” He coos, pressing your cunt on him tighter, making you moan louder and hips rut against him quicker.

He lifts you up from his abs slowly, you moan at the loss of friction, but he was too focused on the lines of slick that connect your puffy lips to his stomach. He moans lowly at the sight, pressing you against his abs once more before lifting you up, even more lines of slick connecting you two together. “Awh, babygirl, look at the mess you’re making on me.” He coos before scooping your slick up with his fingers and putting them in his mouth, sucking on them hungrily.

You whine and squrim against him, getting both equally turned on and frustrated that he’s holding you up with one hand just to watch your pussy leak onto him. “Teyammm! Put me down!” You demand, the feeling of your orgasm slipping away from you quickly. “And why should I do that? I like watching how you helplessly flail around because I won’t let you ride me like a little bitch in heat.” He states, a pout forming on your face from his words. “You’re so mean.” You huff, tears welling in your eyes once your almost orgasm finally leaves you.

He cups your cheek lovingly, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin. “Oh, l’m just the worst aren’t I? My baby getting all mad because I won’t let her cum?” He prods, a fake pout on his face, making a smile creep up on your own. Without warning he places you back down on his abs, locking his hands behind his head. You gasp in surprise, placing your hands below his ribs for support.“Go ahead, babydoll. Wanna watch you cum for me.” He orders, never breaking eye contact while he speaks to you.

You felt so ‘on the spot’ without his big, warm hands guiding your movements, suddenly not knowing how to start off or where to put your hands. “Teyam..” you call for him, but all you get in return is a “nuh-uh, babygirl. I’m not helping you. Want you to be a good girl for me and show me how badly you wanna cum.” You stare at him with a pout on your face before slowly moving your hips, the feeling of his abs repeatedly hitting your clit makes your moans get louder and needier, your orgasm slowly getting closer and closer.

He flexes and relaxes the muscles continuously, causing you to jump and grind into him more. The constant friction on your sensitive clit starts to prove to be too much for you, making tears start to well up in your eyes and thrust get sloppier. “T-tey, I can’t. It way too much.” You blubber almost incoherently, but he still caught it. He doesn’t stop flexing his abs though, and you don’t stop moving your hips. “Yes you can, Yawntu. I can feel how much this pretty pussy is pouring on me. You’re almost there, baby.” He encouraged, the praise being enough to make you chase your high. Making him smile proudly. “There you go, babygirl.”

His words have your pussy pouring out slick like a river, you both glance down at his abs to see that they’re completely soaked in your juices, the dim light of your room making his pretty skin seem like it was glowing. He chuckles at the sight before looking up at you, in a trance by how gorgeous you look on top of him. “Mhm..What a pretty little slut, getting this wet from riding my abs?” You let out a small “uh-huh” before you feel the coil in your stomach getting tighter.

Noticing this, he flexes his abs and keeps them flexed, biting his lip at the little whimper that comes from your mouth when he does that. “Teyam, I need you to touch me.” You demand. But he doesn’t move, no matter how badly he wanted to squeeze and pinch at your sensitive skin, he kept his hands behind his head. “Please!, tey, please! I’m sorry!” He chuckles at your needy tone before rewarding you with a “good girl” and letting his hands roam across your body.

You let out a downright pornographic moan once his hands touch your sensitive tits, small hands wrapping around his slender wrists. He pinches and fondles at the soft skin gently, making all sorts of pretty noises and pleas fall from your plush lips.

His left hand reaches up to cup the side of your face sweetly, while the other continues to play with your sensitive tit. “Mhm, you gonna be a good whore for me and cum all over my abs? Hm?” He questions, wrapping his hand around your throat firmly. You let out a broken “yes,sir” before a loud moan leaves your lips as the coil in your stomach snaps, your cum completely covering his whole stomach.

“Shsh, I got you, babygirl, lemme help you.” He places his hands on your hips to help you ride out your high, stopping once your moans die down and turn into soft heavy breathes.

You look at him to be met with hooded eyes and a smirk, one that told you that you definitely said something you’re gonna regret. “What?..” you ask, the word heavy on your tounge as you look at him with a furrowed brow. “Sir, huh?” He asks, making you cover your face in embarrassment. “No way I said that! It was an accident! Oh my god!” You blurt, but he silences your rambling with a passionate kiss.

“I didn’t mind it, you know.” He says once he pulls away from the kiss

“oh really?” You question, a devilish smirk on your face

“Mhm.” he responses, eyes fluttering from your lips to your eyes. “Well thank you for tonight, sir.” You tease, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek before getting up quickly, but he was quicker, grabbing you by your waist and putting you on your back.

“Uh-uh, tonight is just getting started, yawntu.”

𝑨/𝑵~ Hii! I only proofread this two times, so I apologize if there’s errors/repeats it’s literally 12am rn💔 but lemme tell yall I was blushin and kickin ma feet while writing this one frl😭, I need to write for neteyam more bc whew😩 what a fine man he is. I hope you guys enjoyed this tho🥰🫶🏽 bc now I’m off to sleep, stay safe and hydrated, I love you guys🩷

𝑫𝒖𝒄𝒆𝒔🫶🏽,

𝑳𝒖𝒗𝒗4𝒋4𝒚𝒃𝒆11

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕~ @pandoraslxna @neteyamgfs @faintfill @tsireyasluvr @aperiraa @fioooweeooweeeoo @loakstahni @brioffthegrid @wheneclipsefalls @chershire23 @blue-slxt @tallulah477 @itchaboi-itchyboy @neteyamsyawntu @neteyamyawne @inolaphoenix @renaimel

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brainddeadd · 8 months ago

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Neteyam had always known the forests of Pandora as his home—the thick, twisting roots, the towering trees, and the song of the creatures hidden in the leaves. But here, everything was different. He was surrounded by an endless expanse of water, the bright turquoise of the reefs so different from the dark greens he was used to. And as he struggled to adapt, it was you who captivated him most.

He noticed you one day, gliding beneath the waves like you were born from the ocean itself. Your teal skin shimmered under the light filtering through the water, each movement effortless and fluid as you twisted among the colorful coral and schools of fish. You belonged here, completely and unreservedly, and he was struck by your beauty and grace.

When you emerged from the water, droplets tracing the curves of your skin, your laughter like a melody on the sea breeze, he felt something shift inside him. You turned and caught his stare, an amused smile curving your lips.

“You must be Neteyam Sully,” you said, tilting your head with curious eyes. “The forest boy.”

He scratched the back of his neck, feeling unexpectedly shy under your gaze. “That’s right. I… I haven’t exactly mastered the water yet.”

You laughed softly, a sound that seemed to lift his spirits. “That’s alright. We’ll start small. The sea takes time to understand.”

Over the next few days, you became his guide, teaching him to move with the water rather than against it. You showed him how to hold his breath, how to navigate the currents, and how to dive deep without fear. He was a quick learner, but he knew the truth—you were the reason he wanted to learn.

One evening, as the sun began to sink, casting golden rays over the water, you and Neteyam floated side by side, watching the world dip into night. Silence fell between you, comfortable and deep, until he finally spoke.

“I never imagined I’d feel this way about… all of this.” His eyes shifted to you, nervous but unwavering. “Or about someone I barely know.”

Your expression softened, and you reached out, your fingers brushing his hand beneath the water. “Pandora’s full of wonders, Neteyam. Maybe you were meant to find this one.”

With a smile, he gently took your hand, pulling you closer, heart racing with a certainty he hadn’t expected. In that moment, beneath the fading sun and the endless ocean, he knew he was exactly where he belonged—by your side, a part of your world.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #avatar x reader #° braindead writes #avatar the way of water x reader #neteyam imagines #neteyam fanfic

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neteyawne · 6 months ago

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neteyam, being the dutiful boyfriend he is, braids your hair for you. but night has fallen over pandora, and you manage to fall asleep while his gentle hands are massaging and cradling your head so sweetly <3

notes! sevin means pretty and tìyawn means love in na'vi~

neteyam's hands are one of your favorite things in all of pandora. they're large and soft and so gentle with you. you can feel his love with the way he holds you, like some sort of a delicate flower he wishes to preserve forever.

"that tickles, 'teyam." you giggle, leaning your head back just the slightest bit as your nose nudges against neteyam's thigh. he chuckles as he swipes a stray strand of hair that had fallen onto your cheek

"i know, tìyawn. just a few more moments." he murmurs, dipping down to place a gentle kiss onto the slope of your forehead as you let out a quiet hum. his eyes soften when your lashes flutter close in contentment, and he works gently as he finishes braiding the last few strands

you were laying in his lap as he worked diligently, one of your hands wrapped around his long leg and the other was laying on your belly. neteyam hums quietly as he works, his soothing voice lulling you straight to sleep

"all done..!" he grins, intertwining the last bead into your braid as he smiles down at his work. your hair looked pretty. he loved braiding it for you, and he tosses the braids resting on his own chest over his shoulder. you had braided his hair just before he began yours—it had become a tradition between the two of you, braiding each others hair.

"sevin?" neteyam questions quietly when you don't respond, the moonlight outlining your still form as a knowing smile forms on his face

it seemed like you had fallen asleep. your chest rose and fell gently, your lips parted just the slightest bit. there was a look of peaceful bliss on your face, and neteyam couldn't stop himself from shifting his body to lay down right beside you

"goodnight." he murmurs into your ear, an arm slipping around your waist as he pulls you into his chest. the forest thrummed with life around you, and slowly, his eyes closed—at peace in his home with you beside him.

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moonchildxoxx · 2 months ago

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Could I request tutsey fem human reader. Shes love Pandora and has been studying the flora and fauna. Has a huge crush on tutsey but know he doesn’t like human’s . Eventually he does see her differently because she so kind to everyone and seeing her interactions with Navi children brings something out of him. . Unbeknownst to him she was daydreaming of what it would be like to have a family with her crush . As her interactions with her and him Star slowly he starts to get interested. He decides to court her however she’s doesn’t know Navi courting is different than humans so there are misunderstandings. One day a human that is a doctor that live in the human outpouts Star to flirt with aher. Tutsey makes it too clear to her that he’s interested after seeing that he isn’t going to loose someone tease that’s his future mate 😤

MsI soryy if this is long . Also my phone screen is busted so some grammar errors here. You can add smut if you want.

⸻

Title: What the Heart Knows

Rating: 18+ / Mature

Pairing: Tsu'tey x Human!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1,636

Warnings: Slow burn, emotional tension, soft romance, cultural differences, Na'vi courting, human!reader, second-person POV

Synopsis: You didn't come to Pandora for war. You came to understand. But you didn't expect to be seen really seen by someone like him. Tsu'tey, proud and distant, was never meant to be yours.Until he starts offering you gifts. Until his gaze softens. Until he tells you plainly you are his intended. And everything changes.

A/N:

Hi lovely! First of all-thank you so much for the beautiful request. I loved exploring a soft, slow-burn Tsu'tey who slowly (and stubbornly) realizes that kindness can break down even the tallest emotional walls. Also: no worries about grammar or length

our idea was so clear and compelling. I loved every bit of it!

⸻

You didn’t come to Pandora for war.

You came for wonder.

Pandora never failed to steal your breath not even after all this time. The glowing moss that lit your path after the eclipse. The gentle sway of bioluminescent plants. The quiet chirps of distant life. You came to study it all its balance, its spirit, its untamed wonder.

But somewhere along the way, he started stealing your breath too.

Tsu’tey.

Proud. Fierce. Always watching.

The first time you saw him, he was just a silhouette in the trees barely a presence beyond his piercing eyes and the tension in his stance. He was quiet, watchful, and seemed to weigh every human around him like a potential threat.

You knew the stories how he once hated the Sky People, how he had every reason to. And maybe he still did. You were human, after all.

Even in your exopack, you always felt the weight of difference. The fragility. The alien-ness.

But he never said anything cruel. Never looked at you the way some of the older warriors did. And sometimes, sometimes, you caught him watching you quietly. Curiously.

You got used to his gaze early on. Never warm, never cruel just unreadable. Like the jungle around him: beautiful, wild, and distant.

And yet, you kept looking.

You had come to Pandora not as a soldier or a colonizer, but as a xenobiologist. The flora, the fauna it was unlike anything Earth had left. Every vine, every pulse of bioluminescence called to something in your bones. You weren’t here to take. You were here to understand.

Tsu’tey didn’t care.

To him, you were still a tawtute. Still a sky person. Still a risk.

But you were patient.

You learned their ways as best you could. You kept your distance unless invited. You listened. You watched. You never picked without permission. You brought no weapons, only a field journal and reverence.

The village children warmed to you first.

They liked your clumsy Na’vi and your sketches of creatures they saw every day. They laughed at how badly you braided and tugged you into games that left you breathless and smiling.

You tried to focus on your work studying pollination in the lilac-furred blossoms near the village, collecting notes on the way animals reacted to the rain. But your thoughts kept wandering… to something warmer.

And slowly, slowly, you noticed a shift.

Tsu’tey started appearing more often always at a distance. Watching as you taught a girl how to say “butterfly.” Listening as you sang a lullaby from Earth. His arms still crossed. His brow still furrowed.

But his gaze no longer held distrust.

It held… curiosity.

It started small.

He passed you once near the weaver’s tents and paused when he saw you braiding fiber clumsily for a research project. Without a word, he knelt and corrected your form his hands large but surprisingly gentle.

You tried to thank him, but your voice came out too soft. He only nodded.

Then came the day he saw you with the children.

They adored you.

You let them climb over your legs, paint your face with berry juice, giggle as you mispronounced Na’vi words. You never rushed them. Never made them feel like a task.

Tsu’tey stood silently in the shadows that afternoon, watching as a small girl curled in your lap and dozed off. You stroked her hair with a dreamy, far-off look in your eyes.

Something in his chest stirred. Something… unfamiliar.

He started seeking you out more after that.

Bringing you fruits without a word. Sitting beside you during quiet moments. Once, when you tripped over a root, he caught you before you fell and didn’t let go right away.

It happened slowly so slow you barely noticed it.

One day, Tsu’tey asked where you’d learned the Na’vi word for a certain bird. You blinked at him in surprise. His voice was steady, but something in his eyes flickered like the question mattered more than it should have.

You told him, trying not to sound too eager, and when you smiled at him, his ears twitched. Not away. But forward.

The next week, he corrected your pronunciation. You repeated the word until he nodded, and something in your chest fluttered.

After that, he began to appear beside you when you were deep in the forest. Not guiding you. Just… near. Close enough that you could speak, if you wanted to. Close enough that your heart tripped every time you looked up and found him there.

He brought you things. A fruit you hadn’t seen before. A carving of a direhorse. Once, a cluster of glow leaves bound together with thin vine.

You didn’t know it then.

But Tsu’tey had started to court you.

You didn’t understand at first.

He never said what the gifts meant. He didn’t touch you, didn’t explain. When you thanked him, he only gave a small grunt or a nod, like it wasn’t important.

It was.

But you were still human. You thought maybe he was just being nice. Or that you were imagining it seeing what you wanted to see.

Because the truth was, you were already gone for him.

You’d daydreamed about what it would be like if someone like Tsu’tey could ever care for someone like you. You imagined what his hands would feel like in yours. What his voice would sound like saying your name in a soft moment. What it would be like to build something here… a life. Maybe even a family.

You told yourself it was foolish.

But the dreams kept coming.

The misunderstanding began the day Dr. Rowan arrived.

He was part of a newer research team young, loud, and clearly more interested in you than the plants. He wasn’t subtle, either. Every time he came to the village, he found an excuse to sit beside you, to touch your arm, to compliment your eyes.

You cringed inside. But you didn’t want to be rude.

Tsu’tey was less diplomatic.

You didn’t notice him at first until Rowan laughed and brushed a leaf from your shoulder. Then you felt it. That shift in the air.

Tsu’tey was at the edge of the clearing, his stance rigid, his tail twitching behind him like a warning.

You thought he’d walk away.

He didn’t.

Instead, he crossed the space between you in five silent steps and stopped in front of you towering, jaw tight, gold eyes narrowed.

Rowan blinked up at him, oblivious. “Oh hey, man. Didn’t see you there.”

Tsu’tey didn’t respond to him. He looked at you.

Then, without a word, he held out a hand.

You stared at it, confused.

“I do not share,” he said. His voice was low. Rough. Possessive.

You blinked again. “Wh what?”

“You are my intended,” he said plainly, as if it were obvious. “He touches you again, I will break his hand.”

Rowan stood up abruptly, his face pale. “Uh. I—I should go.”

He did.

You were still staring.

Tsu’tey looked down at you. “You did not know.”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. “Your… intended?”

“I have been courting you,” he said, and your stomach dropped. “Have you not seen it?”

You blinked up at him, wide-eyed. “Courting?”

He crouched before you now, more level, and reached out again slowly this time.

When you let him take your hand, his thumb brushed over your palm with reverence.

“You care for our forest,” he said. “Our children. You are not Na’vi, but… you are kind. You see us. You see me.”

Your throat tightened.

You whispered, “I do.”

He leaned forward until your foreheads touched soft, warm. A Na’vi gesture of deep connection.

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

“I thought you didn’t like humans,” you said quietly.

“I do not like most,” he murmured. “But I like you.”

From then on, everything changed.

Tsu’tey walked beside you now. Not as a shadow, but as something more solid. More sure. He brought you small things a carved pendant, berries from high branches and you began to bring him things too. You tried to learn what Na’vi gifts meant. He helped you understand.

One day, you brought him a flower you’d found rare, luminous, soft as silk.

He looked at it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“You found this for me?”

You nodded. “I thought it was beautiful. Like you.”

His ears twitched. “You are learning how to court.”

“Am I doing it right?”

He leaned in, his hand brushing your cheek.

“Yes,” he said. “Very right.”

You didn’t think love could be soft and wild at once, but that’s what it was.

You still studied the forest. Still played with the children. But now, you came home to his arms at dusk. To his quiet hums and long, silken gazes.

And at night, sometimes, he would brush his hand down your back and murmur, “One day… I will give you many children. Brave, wild ones. With your laugh.”

And you would smile against his shoulder, imagining the home that no longer felt like just a dream.

⸻

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vandnana · 3 months ago

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In Love With The Enemy [IV]

Chapter 4: Toruk Makto Will Disappear

pairing: lo’ak x female turned na’vi reader

summary: during the time when jake became toruk makto, you were quaritch’s youngest and most valued soldier, the daughter he never had. but, pandora changed you and you died during the final battle, betraying quaritch and wishing that you had been able to do more. now, you have been reborn again, as a na’vi, tasked with quaritch’s new military avatar crew to kill Jake Sully. taking advantage of this second chance at life, you help the Sullys and fall in love along the way.

genre: fluff, angst ~ slow burn, pining on lo’ak’s part.

warnings: mentions of blood, war, violence

highlights: [jake and reader having moments as best friends, mo'at throwing down wisdom, classic sully sibling bickering, more of reader's backstory with quaritch, lo'ak and reader moments!]

word count: 13,394

note: i'm back from the dead like our dear reader with a long awaited update! i am so sorry to my lovers clan for taking so long. for everybody who has waited so patiently, thank you. and for all who are new, welcome!

When Spider awoke, he was immediately blinded by fluorescent lights that hung above him, his head aching as he sat up. The steel of the platform he was lying on made his body feel cold, and as he looked around the room, windowless and white, his heart felt cold too, the lack of life around him so bewildering and unfamiliar. Shifting, he winced, and looking down he found a wound on his right arm—a gash that he had earned while falling onto the forest ground, bandaged with a white wrapping.

Then, he instantly thought of you, overcome with worry as he wondered if you were alright.

Everything had happened so fast.

One moment, you had finally made up with him and you had solidified that bond while flying to the Tree of Souls—that sense of togetherness irreplaceable in his heart.

But before he even had time to truly cherish that moment, the unthinkable happened. Stuck, captured, and alone, Spider's anger and frustration overwhelmed him, his breathing rapid suddenly as he took his emotions out on the walls that kept him. Banging on the double glass, he yelled out with fury, knowing that his captors were watching on the other side.

He struck the glass and the walls until his hands hurt and his knuckles bled, the pain of the impact from the metal clouded by that rage. In truth, he was so exhausted, but he kept on going, the fire inside fueling him as he goaded the soldiers to face him.

Then, suddenly the doors of the room opened, revealing the group of soldiers that had captured him, “Looks like Jungle boy’s awake.” Zdinarsk said with a half-grin.

Spider hissed, bearing his teeth, but that only caused a roll of laughter from each of the soldiers.

“So, you think you’re one of them.” There was a pause as the soldiers stepped aside to reveal who the voice belonged to.

It was Quaritch, his demeanor distant and demanding as he inspected Spider, frowning as he looked at him, intensely displeased, “What’s your name boy?”

Spider didn’t answer, glaring at him bitterly, the defiance making Quaritch’s blood boil. He took one of his guns out, laughing slightly as he unlocked the safety, “I’m only gonna ask you nicely one more time, but after that it’s gonna hurt.”

Spider hesitated before caving in. He gritted his teeth as he responded, meeting Quaritch's eyes with vileness, “Who are you? Tell me that and maybe I’ll answer.”

“Colonel Quaritch.” He let his eyes go to the gun, before eyeing Spider again, “Now again, boy, what’s your name?”

Spider's eyes only widened for a moment before he could feel his rage summit within him, scorn undercutting that growing anger as he scoffed, “Don’t you recognize your own son?”

It wasn't until this moment that Spider realized how much he longed to face his father, to finally look the man who didn't want him in the eye.

The rest of the soldiers teetered, all of them sharing shock as they looked at him. The last time they had seen him, he was only a baby, and here he was in front of all them— grown-up.

Quaritch put the gun down, stepping backward for a moment as he felt a sudden throb afflict his heart, “Miles?” He paused, kneeling down, the twinge in his heart making itself known as he spoke again, this time softer, quieter, “Thought they would have sent you back to earth.”

“So, that's what you named me huh? My name is Spider, and they can’t put babies in cryo, dipshit.” Spider spat, crossing his arms as he kept a snarl on his face.

Quaritch was stunned.

What did he feel for this kid? Guilt? Love? Sadness? Relief? For the briefest moment, he let his resolve down, the realization of who Spider was unexpectedly softening his expression, whispers of those emotions attempting to breach the surface.

To the rest of the regiment it was unperceived, the mask of his steely glare lending his usual gruff. But, Spider saw it clearly. In that blink of time, the awareness of his father's startling vulnerability gripped him, anchoring itself into his mind and forcing its weight onto his heart.

This was the moment that Spider had waited for. He had expected to be angry and stay angry, to affix betrayal, heartache, and pain to the man in front of him who was supposed to be his family. And yet, he felt a tenderness grow within him, an unforeseen ache that he couldn't define or perhaps, didn't want to define.

Like his father, he maintained his reserve of anger as he spit again at them, pushing down whatever was brewing in him and remembering why he was with them and what was at stake for the Sullys.

Turning to Zdinarsk, Quaritch ordered coldly, “Take him to Ardmore and the science pukes. We’ll see what he knows.” Aggressively, Zdinarsk grabbed Spider by the back of the neck, the rest of the soldiers escorting him out into the hallway with Quaritch behind them.

Quaritch was barely dealing with his loss of you, and now, he had his other child with him. He didn’t know what to think, only that his memories allowed him a fraction of affection compared to what he had for you.

Leading him into one of the main console rooms, they were met by General Ardmore, her hands behind her back as she looked at Spider up and down. The soldiers snickered as Spider fought against their strong grips, amused by his pointless attempt at escape.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" She motioned toward the large contraption in the middle of the room, a device unlike anything Spider had ever seen before, "Strap him in."

Zdinarsk pushed Spider onto the vertical piece of white metal of the contraption, securing him with the accompanying restraints. Over his face, Wainfleet fastened a clear plastic mask and tightening it, Spider could feel the pressure focus itself on every part of his skull.

He saw Ardmore ahead of him through what appeared to be a green membrane within the device's overall metal structure, "Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

She paused to lean forward, her glare intense, "Where is Jake Sully hiding?"

"I. Don't. Know." The disdain in Spider's voice was evident as he dragged out every syllable.

Sighing, Ardmore stepped backward, pressing a large red button beside her, "I thought you might say that."

A loud whirring sound erupted from the device, triggering it on as the green membrane slowly started to spin. Immediately, the pressure he had felt before became a burning sensation. Like a singe to every synapse, Spider's brain was on fire, the intensity of it building and building.

"Feel that? That's the radiation reading your brain or rather frying it. Good for us, not so good for you. So, I'll ask you again, where is Jake Sully?" Ardmore yelled out.

Spider could barely see her now, the motion of the radiation screen dizzying him, "I told you I don't know! You're gonna have to kill me!"

Quaritch and the other soldiers watched from the clear glass room behind Ardmore, their eyes switching between Spider and the holographic projection of his brain. The scientists helping Ardmore were observing his brain activity, but they detected no viable information, shaking their heads when Ardmore turned around for an update.

"You're gonna have to do better than "I don't know," Keeping her composure, her tone was clear, but she was beginning to get frustrated by Spider's stubbornness, "There's no use in hiding the truth. Just form a thought and we'll see it. Now, where is his base? Is it in the Floating Mountains? Where is he?"

Over and over and over again, it was the same question and the same answer, every second of resistance tormenting him.

Quaritch, on the outside, was apathetic and uncaring, his arms crossed as he stood tall amongst his regiment. But, something inside of him snapped when Spider’s nose began to bleed and his eyes began to roll backwards. Marching out of the room, he pressed the red button, the spinning of the device halting immediately.

He turned over to Ardmore, his own request surprising him, “General, Let me try the old-fashioned approach.”

Zdinarsk and Wainfleet took Spider back to his steel cell, and it was clear that he had been weakened, his usual aggressions no longer a problem for them as they easily grabbed hold of him.

Ardmore raised an eyebrow, clearly displeased as she reluctantly nodded, “He’s not your child.”

She was right. He wasn’t Quaritch’s child. He never was.

You were.

But because of Lyle's lie, Quaritch only knew you to be dead.

He sighed, exhaling as he ached over missing you so badly. Even he couldn't believe his own actions, rationalizing that it was the Na'vi part of him that arose a subconscious motivation for caring about the son he knew he never wanted. Although he hated to be in the form of his enemy, he only realized how relieved, how grateful, he felt to be by your side again. While he reveled in fulfilling his vengeance, it was you who had made this new resurgence of life worth living. And it hurt more to recognize that it took you being gone from him for that feeling to settle.

Quaritch waited a while before he finally entered the cell, the opening of the doors revealing Spider sitting on the platform he had woken up on, his knees up and his arms resting on them.

Filling the room was an awkward tension, the two staring at one another before Quaritch knelt down, “From what I remember, I know I wasn’t the best father to you."

Spider huffed, crossing his arms and turning his back away from him.

Sitting down, he took his son by the arm, pulling him forward and forcing him to face him in the eye, "Look, I only cared for my daughter. I admit that. And now that she's dead I—“

“Your daughter? Dead?” In his disbelief, Spider's mouth gaped, eyebrows raised and his forehead crinkled.

Quaritch was visibly bothered, the slightest wince showing in the crinkling of his eyes as he answered the question, “I came here to kill Jake Sully," He lowered his eyes, his voice like the sound of a hiss as he sneered, "And now that he's killed her, just like he did when I was human, I really can't let him live."

Gulping, Spider nodded, biting his tongue as he withheld the truth, unsure of what would ensue if he let out that you were alive.

Changing his demeanor, Quaritch let go of Spider's arm, resting his palms on the top of his thighs. Quaritch appealed to his son with a brightened tone, “I’m not gonna ask you to give up Sully. I know you’d never do that. You’re loyal.”

He paused again, gritting his teeth, “But so am I. I’m not letting my little girl die in vain. You and me, we’re nothing to each other, really. So, you don’t have to think of me as your father.”

Quaritch paused, looking out at the door, the glint of worry in his eyes betraying his previous words, “But, just ride along, okay? Otherwise, I’ll have to give you back to Ardmore.”

Spider reluctantly nodded, and seeing that confirmation, Quaritch left. Spider watched his father go, and although Quaritch seemed to maintain his stern appearance, Spider could distinguish the agony he felt inside over losing you.

How could he not?

He laid back down on the platform, rubbing his temples. He suddenly felt conflicted. Finally meeting his father, Spider saw Quaritch for who he was. He was a military man all the way, hard and callous. But, underneath that harsh exterior, he saw so clearly how much he loved you. Guilt washed over him without warning. Spider hated that he felt guilty for keeping you being alive a secret, hated that in the presence of the man that rejected him, he could only be silent.

But, he also felt guilty for the small part of him that was actually glad his father didn’t know the truth. Because without you, even for a momentary time, maybe Quaritch would finally see him as his son.

He had finally looked the man in the eye, and he hated himself for suddenly feeling so torn. Yet, it was an inner feeling he just couldn't control. Spider couldn’t help but care about what his father thought of him suddenly, couldn’t help but want some sort of approval from the man who rejected him.

He scolded himself for thinking so selfishly, so stupidly. Turning to his side and closing his eyes, Spider pushed those thoughts away, reminding himself why he ended up where he was in the first place.

He was uncertain about what he would face with the regiment, but he knew one thing.

The Sullys' safety, your safety—he would do what he could to ensure it.

“What happened?” Jake angrily yelled as Lo’ak carried you off his ikran.

Neytiri was beside him, attending to Kiri and Tuk, both of them crying hysterically as Kiri repeated with a trembling voice, “Spider, they took him! They took him!”

Jake could only focus on you though, his mind warping reality as fear and panic came over him. You were practically lifeless, your arms dangling over and your head tilted backward. It was exactly how you looked when he was holding your dying body.

He quickly ran to you, taking your body from Lo'ak's arms.

“Y/n! Y/n!” Jake called to you, his voice almost breaking as he felt your pulse, only slight relief coming to him as you showed just the weakest sign of life.

Turning his attention back on Lo’ak, he repeated his original question, nostrils flaring as he slowly spoke, every syllable enthralled with his simmering anger, “What happened?”

"It was my fault, sir. I-" Neteyam began, stepping forward in front of his brother per usual.

But Jake shook his head at his oldest son, "I wasn't asking whose fault it was," His eyes turned to Lo'ak suddenly, Jake's fatherly instinct already getting ahead of him, "I asked what happened."

The fury in his voice deepened the shame in both the brothers, the two looking at one another before Lo'ak finally spoke up, "She wanted to stay here at the camp, but I insisted on flying. Everything happened at the Tree of Souls. She connected to it and then something happened. She stopped responding and then the soldiers came and then...they took Spider,” Lo'ak kept his eyes on his father, the guilt in his eyes evident in their glint, “I’m sorry sir.”

Jake and Neytiri looked at one another worriedly. Then, taking Kiri and Tuk's hands, she walked away with them, ushering calm words of reassurance to abate their cries.

Knowing the truth, Jake could feel his gut turn as his anger mixed with a feeling of unsettlement. Jake glanced at you for a moment before his eyes went back to Lo’ak, “I'm taking y/n to your grandma. Until she wakes up, I don't want you anywhere near her. Now go attend to the ikran.” His eyes went to Neteyam, “Both of you.”

“But Dad, let me–”

“You’ve done enough.”

Lo'ak stepped backward suddenly as the sting of his father's words lashed at him.

Jake expected retaliation, expected the usual defiance from his youngest son, but instead Lo'ak kept his head down, his shame evident. He lingered for only a second more before walking away in the direction of Mo'at's tent.

"Why can't you just listen, little bro?" Neteyam placed what was meant to be a comforting hand on Lo'ak's shoulder, but Lo'ak only swatted it away.

"How can I wait around until she wakes up? With how she is now, that could be hours," He paused, his eyes widening in slight panic, "Or days!"

"Calm down, bro. Grandma will know how to heal her. For now, the best that you can do for her is follow Dad's orders. Come on, we have to see to the ikran."

"Bro, no. It's my fault that this happened to her. I have to make sure she's okay." Lo'ak defied, already walking backwards toward the tent.

Neteyam couldn't believe what he was hearing. Turning to face his ikran, he teased Lo'ak loudly, "Wow! My baby brother is actually taking responsibility for his actions! That crush of his has made him less of a skxawng than usual."

Lo'ak heard him from a distance, halting then turning on his heels, "You're just asking to get beat up. You know that?"

"It would be entertaining to see you try. As if you would even stand a chance against the mighty warrior that I am," Neteyam crossed his arms, proud of his retort as his lips curled upwards into a broad, smug smile.

"You know what, I'm actually going to wait until after y/n wakes up, so she can watch me pummel you," Lo'ak punched his fist into his other palm with a satisfied smirk, "It'll make my victory over you even sweeter."

Nodding, Neteyam took the opportunity to get under Lo'ak's skin, faking a serious tone as he stepped away from the ikrans, "That's a good idea actually. I should definitely come with you to check on y/n."

"Woah, woah, woah," Lo'ak blocked Neteyam's path, standing earnestly in front of him with his hand out, "We don't need a third wheel right now, thank you very much."

Lowering his little brother's hand, he cocked his head to the side, amused as he let out a chuckle, "I cannot believe how jealous you get Lo'ak, really it's a marvel to see."

Lo'ak cleared his throat, "Jealous? Of you? The "mighty" warrior? You wish," Setting his gaze on the ikrans behind them, he rationalized his behavior, "And besides, bro you've got your work cut out for you. I admit being responsible is a page I took out of your book today, but you can have the page back, alright? If you come too, who's gonna do what Dad told us to do?"

"Of course, of course, what he told us to do, I will go and do it." Neteyam rolled his eyes, "But what are you going to do when Dad sees you?"

"Have you met me bro?" Lo'ak let a breath out, confidently patting his chest with his right hand, "He won't see me."

Leaving Neteyam without another word, Lo'ak turned and began to stealthily maneuver his way through the camp. While the forefront of his thoughts focused on wondering if you were alright, the back of his mind was playing his brother's words on a loop.

Neteyam was right.

It wasn't like him to act this way. Wherever Lo'ak was so was trouble, and he had grown used to trying to save his own ass with any excuse he could think of.

But this time was different. It wasn't about him. It was about you.

Back at the Tree of Souls, he couldn't let his emotions get the best of him, too focused on getting you to safety. The first shade of horrified panic when you didn't wake up, the fear that ran through him when he was dodging bullets and holding your body, the urgency he was chasing to get you back to base— now, everything he suppressed, he felt all at once. And veiling it all was that persistent effect you've had on him since the day you met. He knew he liked you. He just never realized how much.

Jake was holding back his tears as he carried you, whispering, "Everything's going to be fine, y/n."

It was like you were dying in his arms all over again. Your pulse was weak, your skin pale as he laid you down gently in front of Mo'at. She had already sensed the disturbance near the Tree of Souls, her herbs already prepared beside her as she took your face into her hands.

"Will she live, Mo'at?" Jake asked, and as he said those words, it took him back to the day when he first asked you to save her.

"She is merely unconscious. You forget, Toruk Makto, what I told you all those years ago about y/n. The Great Mother still holds her in Her heart. She is not gone from us forever. Her soul has truly been reborn and she has finally connected with the Great Mother."

Jake furrowed his eyebrows, blinking at her as his eyes urged for her to continue.

She placed the herb paste from the palm of your hands to the nape of your neck, then positioned two fingers at your temples, "When y/n was pulled away from the Great Mother, her spirit was still attached, while her body was separated too quickly. She is just now finding her way back."

Jake managed to give her a small smile, her words providing him comfort amidst the turmoil already brewing in his mind.

"I will take care of her here." Mo'at added to her daughter's reassurance, "Now go. I am certain that you have much to discuss with my daughter." She lowered her eyes at Jake, her intuition directing her.

Jake hesitated leaving you, but ultimately heeded Mo'at's request. Lo'ak, from a distance, watched as his father walked away. He hurried over to you, and as if Jake knew he was there, he turned around abruptly, prompting Lo'ak to dive to the ground as he ducked behind a crate of boxes. Squinting and seeing nothing, Jake turned his head forward, making his way to Neytiri.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Lo'ak got up, walking over calmly. When he got there, Mo'at was rubbing your temples, her words to the Great Mother echoing through the tent as she guided your spirit back to your body. He stepped in as quietly as possible, but even with her eyes closed, Mo'at was aware of his presence, lifting her right hand to motion him closer as she continued to speak her prayers to the Great Mother. Lo'ak knelt down beside you, crossing his legs underneath him, his gaze strictly fixated on you.

You could hear Mo'at's voice like a murmur at first, then it felt like a shout from the distance. Feeling as if you were floating in a body of water, you were carried by your own consciousness, your senses all coming back to you slowly.

The void you were in was no longer dark nothingness as her voice called to you, signs of life materializing as flecks of light became visible to you and sensations became known to you again. Light continued to shimmer in front of you and around that light were the spirits of the Great Mother, wispy as they cascaded up and down. Within yourself, you felt tingly and looking down, you watched as your body went from a transparent white to your familiar blue skin.

Outstretching your hands, the Great Mother’s spirits made their way to you, the light behind them becoming bigger and bigger. They surrounded you from head to toe, and beyond was Mo’at’s voice. As you focused on it, it amplified, becoming louder and louder until it felt like she was right beside you, her words clapping at you like thunder as your eyes shot open and your body instantly arose.

Lo'ak leaned forward, his happy relief evident as he called out to you smiling, "Y/n! You're okay, you're ok—." You punched him square in the jaw sending him backwards, your body instinctively in defensive mode, as you awoke, your breathing sporadic as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings.

"Damn!" Lo'ak howled, his hand rubbing at his jaw.

When you realized it was him that you punched, you lifted yourself from your seated position, apologetic as you sat on your knees and taking his face into your hands, you uttered aloud, "I've gotta stop doing this to you."

Lo'ak huffed, letting out a chuckle as he looked up at you, enamor expressed in the way his eyes softened, "I welcome any touch of yours, y/n, even if it does give me a bruise."

"You're ridiculous," You let go of his face, smacking him on the arm before leaning back, your palms resting on the ground.

He rubbed his arm, leaning forward, "Or two."

Behind you, Lo'ak peered over at his grandma, who gave him an encouraging nod, her lips pursed together in a proud grin, "It is comforting to know that even in dire straits, your affections do not wain."

Turning your head, you blinked at her, cheeks flushing. She merely met you with an innocent smile, outstretching her hands to the two of you"Now, come make yourself useful, my grandson. I must change y/n's dressing for her shoulder."

Spinning your body, you sat with your legs crossed in front of her, and from behind Lo'ak knelt down, gently taking off the wrapping.

Wringing out water from the basin beside her, she handed it to Lo'ak, "Wipe the dried blood," Then, getting up from her seated position, she went to her table, gathering another array of herbs to put onto your wound.

"Sorry if this stings," Lo'ak warned before he began to dab the blood.

He was working so delicately, so careful not to hurt you that you put a hand over his, reassuring him, "I'm not a baby, Lo'ak. You don't have to be so gentle."

Guiding his hands, you helped him as you dug into your skin a little harsher, more blood coming off and transferring to the cloth. At your touch, Lo'ak maintained a cool composure on the outside, but he was fighting his nerves on the inside, the flush on your cheeks suddenly matching the flush that began to take its place on his.

"You know, I really am glad you're okay." His eyes went downcast, knowing that what he was about to say next would shatter the bubble of comfort you were easing into, "But, something happened at the Tree of Souls and you're not gonna like it."

Halting your movement, you put your hand down and Lo'ak retreated his own hand, placing the cloth back in the basin, "What happened Lo'ak?"

With a heavy heart, he explained, "Your regiment, they came, guns blazing. I had to get you out of there. I thought you were dying. He let a breath out, "We were flying through the forest as they were chasing us and Spider...he fell off Kiri's ikran and they took him."

Your heart dropped, mouth agape and your eyes instantly sullen, "What?"

"I'm sorry, y/n." It was all Lo'ak could say as you put your head in your hands, your mind spiraling.

This changed everything.

Your breathing became rapid as you wondered what they could be doing to him. It was obvious why they took him. They needed intel and he was the perfect captive. He was close to Jake. He knew his whole operation. He could lead them right to the base. Then you thought of your father, dread filling you as you could only imagine what he would do when he found out that Spider was his son.

Your first instinct was to get up, to fly out of the base, and save your brother, "I need to—"

Mo'at looked over, the disturbance she sensed in your heart, begging her to interject. But, Lo'ak had already gotten up with you, ready to chase after you and catching your hand before you stopped yourself, staring ahead, your eyebrows furrowed.

You felt a jab in your heart as the truth pricked at you. It was futile. You knew all too well that Jake would follow you there, and naturally so would Neytiri and the kids. Saving your brother meant a death sentence for the Sullys, and as painful as that choice was, it just wasn't a risk you were willing to take.

You sat back down and Lo'ak followed your movements, keeping his hand in yours, hoping that you felt comforted by his gesture. When he squeezed your hand, you finally looked down, pulled from your blank stare. You met his eyes, clear concern etched in the way his forehead wrinkled and his lips turned downward into a frown.

Shaking your head, you feigned not being worried, managing a smile, "Don't look at me like that. I'm okay, I promise." You sighed, "Spider's a strong kid. I know he'll be okay."

He tilted his head at you, not believing a word you were saying as he tapped your forehead lightly with two fingers, "Come on y/n, what's going on in that pretty head of yours, hmm?"

As if to comfort you, Grace's voice within your mind drowned out your worries, her consolation from your visit at the Tree of Souls echoing in your mind,

"I know you’ll defeat your father, but while you’re here, the Great Mother wants you to live freely. It’s the only way you’ll be able to fulfill your purpose."

Mo'at, with the array of herbs in a bowl handed them to Lo'ak. Unwillingly, he let go of your hand, taking it and following her instructions as she said, "Rub this into her wound in circular motions."

Kneeling down, she sat on her knees, preparing a fresh new bandage for you. You turned to your side to look at her and she met your eyes. She remained silent, but as she gazed upon you, it spoke volumes, her chasmic sense of wisdom radiating as she interpreted the spiritual halo that made itself known to her.

In the distance, you could hear your name being echoed from outside, your ears twitching at the sound, and following it came a set of footsteps nearing and nearing.

It was Tuk, running as fast as she could once she had spotted your upright figure from where she was walking with Kiri.

"Kiri! She's okay, she's okay! Look!" Her excitement bubbled through the innocence in her voice as she dragged her sister forward.

Pivoting, Lo'ak lifted his hands from your shoulder as you were met by Tuk's embrace, "Aw Tuk."

"Easy there Tuk," Kiri warned, putting a hand on your back, "Y/n's just woken up."

Kiri peered over at Lo'ak, his hand still in the bowl and scoffing, she inspected his work, squinting, "Did you—" She stopped herself, snatching the bowl from his hands.

"Hey! I was kind of in the middle of something here," Lo'ak protested, but she didn't seem to care as she retorted sarcastically "Right, and you were doing such a great job, skxawng—Move," She pushed her brother out of the way, "You should have used yanna bark sap at this stage of healing."

Mo'at raised an eyebrow at her granddaughter, impressed but slightly offended, "Oh really? And who is Tsahik?"

"You are, grandmother. But, yanna bark is better. It stings less."

Tuk sat in your lap as Kiri took over, and peering over at Lo'ak, his arms crossed, a scowl on his face, you spoke, unable to contain your laughter as memories with Grace and Jake resurfaced, "You know, the two of you remind me of your parents sometimes."

Kiri's eyes brightened hearing her mother's name, "Really? I thought that they were always friends."

Lo'ak, curious as well, perked up too, eager to learn about his father's life before the life he had now. And even Tuk listened, her eyes on you.

You nodded, "Not at first. Your dad and I had no problem being friends. We were inseparable since the day we met. But, your mom needed a little more convincing." You paused, the memory so vivid in your mind that you saw it right in front of you, "I remember how they finally became friends."

You recounted the story as if it had happened yesterday.

You were at Site 26, eating at the table of the small kitchen, Grace beside you, her usual cigarette in her mouth.

He had wheeled himself in there, a plate already ready for him as Grace urged him to sit down, "Bon appetit, Marine."

"If you're feeling extra hungry, I'm more than willing to share," You joked, picking up your fork and pretending to feed him, "Say ahh!"

He swatted your hand away with a scowl, recoiling at the smell, "You know, today I made a kill and we ate it. At least, I know where that meal came from."

He attempted to wheel himself away, but Grace protested, "Oh no you don't. As your boss, I'm telling you to take some down time. That was your other body. You need to take care of this body."

Groaning, he nodded and you took it upon yourself to put it in the microwave for him, "Don't worry about getting up, old man. I got this for you."

He sneered at you, scoffing, "You're lucky that you're younger than me, kids meal. It's not in me to fight a baby like you."

You slammed the microwave door shut, "Ha. ha. Are you sure you can even fight at all? Your aim is shot. I went to the bathroom after you and there was piss all over the seat. I think you should get your cataracts checked."

Grace let out a boisterous laugh, taking a drag out of her cigarette, "I'll kick both of your asses if you don't reel it in. Y/n, baby girl, give the man his food please. He looks like crap."

Taking it out of the microwave, you set it in front of him, taking a seat beside him as you pointed, "It's already in pieces so you won't have a hard time taking your dentures out later."

"Thanks y/n. You're so thoughtful." Jake replied sarcastically, spooning some of it in his mouth.

As he chewed, the taste unbearable, he looked around for a distraction, his eyes fixating on the pictures in front of him. Filing through them, he held one up recognizing the setting, his tone serious as he turned to Grace.

One of his first excursions with his avatar was to visit Grace's old school. Ten years of her life she put into teaching the Na'vi about Earth, just for it to become a cursed piece of history. He couldn't forget the bullet holes that adorned the walls, his curiosity getting the best of him as he held the picture up to Grace, "What did happen at the school, Grace?"

Your expression darkened, sadness overwhelming your heart as Grace took her cigarette out of her mouth, her voice cracking as she explained, "Sylwanin, Neytiri's older sister stopped coming to the school. She was angry about the bulldozers. When her and a couple warriors set one on fire, they came to the school, the RDA right on their trail. She thought that I could protect them, then they killed her right in front of Neytiri. Then, after, they never came back. I got most of the kids out, but that kind of pain," She sniffled, fighting back tears, "It reaches back through the link."

Jake could only listen, understanding dawning on him. She sighed, reclaiming a stern, distant stance as she shook her head, getting up. "Not that you would understand that feeling, right Marine? You're used to doing the killing."

Jake put his head down, shame befalling him and wanting to relieve the tension you called out to her, "Wait, Grace!"

"Don't." Jake said to you, his hand still holding the picture, scorn touching his heart, "You know better than anyone that she isn't wrong. We follow orders. It's what we do."

You tilted your head at him, taking the picture out of his hand, "Then prove her wrong, Jake. Convince Eytukan to let her back into the village. Those kids meant everything to her. And I'm sure they miss her too."

Jake mulled over your words, pursing his lips, "You know, that's not a bad idea actually," He roughed up your hair, "Thanks kid. I'll make it happen. I promise."

Within a week, Grace was back in the village, to her delighted surprise.

You waited for her to come back, leaning against the window near her pod. When she finally got out, she was smiling from ear to ear.

Lowering her eyes, she questioned you, "What?"

You nudged her with your elbow. "Not bad for a Marine, huh?"

She shook her head, in disbelief, "I should have known you put him up to this. This had you," She put a hand up in front of you, tracing your outline as she continued, "Written all over it."

"But he did it, didn't he?" You argued, and she fell silent, rolling her eyes at you.

"Look, Jake's always going to be that Marine at heart, but give him a chance. You gave me one." You coaxed her, taking her hand into yours.

"Alright, alright Miss Marine," She sighed again, but you could tell she was happy, "Jake Sully and I as friends, who would have thought."

Hearing her oldest daughter's name, Mo'at could feel a twinge in her heart, but she was gratified to know that you remembered her. Kiri looked upon you with gratefulness as well, the story connecting her more with a past that she had always craved to know. Lo'ak, on the other hand, felt shocked, the Jake you knew so contrasting to the strict father he had grown up with.

"I spoke to her, your mother," You looked at Kiri, "At the Tree of Souls."

Kiri widened her eyes, urging for you to continue as she listened intently. Mo'at shared the same eagerness, and having already taken the time to interpret the will of the Great Mother when the thought first arose, she knew that Grace's message would reveal the final piece she needed to help you.

"She knows that I'll defeat my father. But, she didn't tell me how, only that the Great Mother wanted me to live freely. Only then, will I be able to fulfill my purpose." Each word was a puzzle perplexing you and you looked at Mo'at, desperate to know what she thought.

Mo'at took a moment to think, her eyes closed as her voice weaved through the subtle breeze that entered through the tent. When she had found the words to say, she spoke them with conviction.

"Life is about balance, y/n. To be too much of one thing and not enough of another can lead us on a lost path. Do not mistake surviving for living."

You took her words in, absorbing what she was saying. You knew what she was trying to tell you and you chuckled appreciatively, but still you continued to question her, curious and concerned, "What does that have to do with my purpose?"

"The Great Mother has spoken her wishes for you. Do not burden yourself with finding your purpose, for it is not meant to burden you at all. There are many things in this new life, many people," She glanced over at Lo'ak for a moment before her eyes set upon you again, "that can still bring you joy even when there is uncertainty."

Lo'ak looked at you instantly, heart on his sleeve as a grin took over his face, hoping that you would meet his eyes, but you only maintained eye contact before averting your eyes, shyness washing over you as you nodded timidly.

Kiri went back and forth between her brother and you, wholly entertained. Putting a hand on yours, "I'm happy that you were able to connect with my mother again. It is good news for this day."

There was a pain behind her eyes and discerning it, you squeezed her hand, "I'm sorry about Spider."

It meant a lot for you to acknowledge that ache she was so desperately trying to hide as she replied, "Thank you. Now, let's finish wrapping your shoulder."

Mo'at handed her granddaughter the bandage and taking it, Kiri skillfully bound your wound, tying it tightly then patting your shoulder, "There. All done."

"Thank you. To all of you." You acknowledged, and letting Tuk off your lap, you stood up, "Now, I have to go talk your dad."

"I'm coming with you," Lo'ak said immediately, getting up and kissing his grandma on the cheek before following you out.

The two girls were close behind, bidding their grandma farewell with a wave as they trailed behind Lo'ak.

From a distance, you already saw Jake and Neytiri in their tent, and although you were far, you could tell they were arguing.

Turning around, you put a hand on Lo'ak's chest, "Maybe you guys should stay behind."

He looked at Kiri and Tuk behind him and reluctantly, he replied, "Okay."

You squinted your eyes at him, expecting his protests, but he remained calm. "Okay...good."

Turning on your heels, you kept going and it wasn't long before you heard their footsteps behind you again. Whipping your head around, you caught Lo'ak mid-walk and not expecting it, he almost ran into you, his hands going to your waist as he avoided crashing forward.

Dangerously close, he kept his eyes locked on you, your expression clearly frustrated, "I'm being serious, Lo'ak. I'm not going to tell you again."

You ignored how his hands felt on your waist, the feeling stirring butterflies in your stomach. Gently taking his wrists, you peeled his hands off.

In surrender, he put his hands up, backing away, "Fine, fine. We're planted, okay? On my honor."

You smiled at him, "Thank you."

When you got to the entrance, you leaned onto the side of it.

So engrossed in their argument, they didn't notice you, Jake's hands in fists as he let out, "We have to leave the Forest."

Neytiri shook her head, her voice forceful and strained, "You cannot ask this. We cannot leave our People. This is our home!"

You cleared your throat, announcing your presence, Neytiri halitng her words immediately as her eyes went to you.

Jake did the same, his expression once distressed and defeated, now illuminated with relief.

"Y/n!" He ran, hugging you, his voice cracking, "Don't ever scare me like that again."

You patted him on the back, whispering, "You old sap. Sorry for scaring you."

Your head rested on Jake's shoulder and you made eye contat with Neytiri. She couldn't hide her emotions, her hands on her head as she looked at you, her eyes pleading as she began to say, "Tell him, y/n that he cannot do this, that there is a way to defeat your demon father from here."

You fell silent, letting go of Jake, unsure of what to say. You and Jake exchanged looks, the two of you in sync.

A father protects. It's what gives him meaning.

You taught him that.

He was Toruk Makto, the leader of the Omaticaya, their protector, their peacekeeper. But, he was also Jake Sully, a father and a husband. Quaritch made him and his family walking targets among The People who never asked to be part of a feud whose end was supposed to be in the Hallelujah Mountains. Jake knew very well how unbearable it is to live with innocent blood on your hands, and he just couldn't bear for the Omaticaya to become collateral damage.

You both knew what had to be done, and there was only one way he could protect everyone, to do his duty, to make sure that no one he loved would get hurt because of him.

Neytiri, in her desperation, picked up her father's bow from where it was being displayed in the tent, "My father gave me this bow as he lay dying," Her voice cracked as she continued, "And he said protect The People. You're Toruk Makto!"

You hated to be on Jake's side this time, but he was right, "Neytiri, he had your children under his knife and now that he has Spider..."

You stopped yourself for a moment, not wanting to admit your fears as you looked away from them both, "He's going to come with everything he's got and he's not gonna stop."

You turned toward Jake and Neytiri again, taking her hand in yours, your heart heavy, "I know you don't want to leave, but you have to understand. If the People harbor us, they will die."

"This will protect The People." Jake put a hand on your shoulder and a hand on Neytiri's face, cupping it gently," Look, I got nothing. I got no plan. But I can protect this family. That I can do."

Sniffling and a wail of cries erupted from outside of the tent and through an opening, you saw the movement of a blue tail. The sound caused Neytiri's ears to twitch, instantly recognizing her child's cries as she uttered, "Tuk?"

Revealing themselves, the kids slowly, one by one, made their way in, and to your surprise, Neteyam had joined them, being the last to walk through the entrance.

"Do we really have to leave here?" Tuk asked, her face stained with tears as she held onto her sister.

Jake and Neytiri didn't know what to say, caught off guard by their children's sudden appearance. Jake was about to walk over to her, but you beat him to it, kneeling down beside her, "You remember what I told you when that man took you in the Mountains? About your dad?"

She nodded, "That he was one of the Sky People, that only he knows how to stop them."

You smiled at her, "Smart girl," You tried your best to hide the heaviness behind your eyes as you reassured her, "Your dad is just doing what he knows best," You looked up at the other Sully kids, hoping that you were giving them at least a semblance of comfort with your words, "Protecting what he loves."

She seemed to understand, pressing her lips together as she nodded. Letting go of her sister's hands, she ran to Jake and he carried her, rubbing her back. Neytiri motioned for the rest of the kids to come and they did, all of them falling in as they hugged one another.

You kept yourself at a distance, looking at them as they embraced one another, your heart breaking. And again, you were reminded what you were brought back to Pandora for—the dread, the pain, the anguish that your regiment was tasked to do. Your mere existence was already causing ruins to Jake and the people he loved the most.

You walked out of the tent, hoping they wouldn't notice you had gone. But, Jake had seen you go, and in his worry, he put Tuk down, following you.

It didn't matter how many times Jake called your name, you didn't respond, buried in your thoughts as you quickly walked through the base.

Despite how much you wanted to live freely like Grace had told you, no matter how much you felt the pull of life, the weight of death was strong, and until you could lift it, you just couldn't welcome a renewed sense of being.

Because here you were, your identity and your destiny still attached to a mission that served the vengeance of what was meant to be dead. You didn't feel like you could move on from that, not until everything was over, not until you did everything you could to protect Jake and his family.

That was the promise you made to yourself when you first awoke and you would keep it. No matter what it took.

The People, you saw, were living, thriving in their homes. Jake had ensured their livelihoods, ensured their safety, and maintained their peace. It was meant to be a comforting sight, but you were only met with sadness in your heart. The words you once told Jake all those years ago, you never realized how much he lived by it until now.

Somehow, you had made it far enough to where the scientists were staying and seeing you, Norm and Max ran over, appearing in front of you.

You finally stopped, pulled from your thoughts as you greeted them, "Oh, hey guys."

"What's wrong?" Norm asked, although he could already guess why you looked so down.

Jake had already broken the news to them earlier, offering a sympathetic hand when you replied, "Haven't you heard? We're getting out of Dodge. Per usual, my dad's done what he does best."

You sat down near the steps of their lab, resting your palms on the sides of your face as your elbows were propped onto your knees, You let out a soft chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood with a joke, "I've got a lot of overdue samples to look at."

That earned a laugh from the two of them, Max replying, "If you weren't like 9 feet tall, I'd definitely let you take a look."

Norm pulled out his tablet, scrolling through countless video logs until he found the one he was looking for, "Hey, I was looking through these the other day and look what I stumbled upon."

He handed you the tablet, and pressing the play button, you watched.

"Y/n. Geez, I've been chasing you down this whole..." You looked up to find Jake walking over with a troubled expression, his words stopping as his eyes made their way down to the tablet, the sight of himself, you, and Grace silencing him.

"Jake Sully here. This is video log..."

You were behind him, hunched over beside Grace with a syringe in your hand, "Twenty-seven. Video log twenty-seven."

"Hey, is this my video log or yours?" He retorted.

"You're the one who couldn't remember the number." You muttered, smiling to yourself.

"Anyway, video log twenty-seven. Learning to ride an ikran. We call them banshees. It's the test every young hunter has to pass. But to do that you gotta go where the banshees are."

"Oo-rah." You chimed in.

Jake turned around again, clearing his throat, and you groaned, "Sorry."

"Man, taming that thing was a bitch. But, when I finally made the bond and I was in the air...Anyway, I may not be much of a horse guy, but riding an ikran? I was born to do that."

"You lucky bastard." You muttered again, taking your eyes out of the microscope when Grace pinched you.

"Stop interrupting. You're distracting him. You know his brain can't handle too much."

Jake scowled, "You can kiss my lily white as—"

"Hey, I'm just saying, if I had my own avatar...I'd never be on the ground."

Watching that only deepened your sadness, and you handed Norm his tablet back, your wish of having your own ikran a pipe dream now that you were leaving the Forest.

Norm, still unaware of the news, looked over at Jake, nudging him, "Might have taken twenty years but, it's still not too late for y/n to have one!"

Jake deliberated it, recognizing your dejection in the way you avoided his eyes. And although in the wake of his decision, it seemed like an impulsive idea, he conceded, "You're right."

In your shock, you finally looked at Jake, taking your hand away from your jaw as your mouth hung open, "Seriously? I thought for sure you would hate the idea of me even stepping outside of camp."

"Well, you're one of the People, aren't you? And besides, "He got up, motioning for you to do the same. Attempting to lighten the mood, he shrugged, "I really didn't want to have to push you in a stroller when we leave here."

You put a hand on the top of your head, allowing your laughter to permeate through the melancholy that felt like it was taking over your body, "You're gonna end up back in that wheelchair real soon. Just you wait."

Jake retaliated affectionately, "It must be tiring being such a pain in the ass."

You waved goodbye to Norm and Max, Jake waiting for you as you caught up to him, "You must be exhausted then."

Jake pulled you in by the shoulder, guiding you forward, "Come on, kids meal, we have one more stop before I take you to Oo-rah."

You returned to the tent, your arrival prompting the Sullys to look up from their separate activities. They were all seated on the floor beside each other. Neteyam acknowledged you with a nod as he was putting a new string on his bow. Kiri was weaving something together, focusing as she looped tiny beads onto a string. Neytiri was with Tuk, the youngest Sully comfortably seated in her lap as she prepared a midday snack. And Lo’ak was only distracting himself as he sharpened his knife over and over, awaiting your return eagerly.

Neytiri arose from her seated position, looking at her husband expectantly, "Ma Jake, what is going on?"

Jake pinched your ear, earning a scowl from you, "We've got somewhere to go."

They all got up hearing Jake, the siblings tilting their heads as they exchanged looks between one another.

The six of you walked toward the edge of the camp. Lo'ak taking his place beside you. "You really want your own ikran? I thought for sure you preferred riding with me." He flirtatiously joked.

"I never said I didn't." You replied rather quickly, catching onto his flirtations, your swift response causing an instant blush to appear on his cheeks.

"I just was really looking forward to racing you on one. Plus," You paused, "I'd definitely win." You feigned a cough to slightly mask your words, a smile erupting on your face as you watched his reaction turn sour.

"You really think you'd win against me? No chance." Lo'ak scoffed cockily, crossing his arms as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Even Tuk could beat you, bro." Neteyam interjected, overhearing the conversation, letting out a laugh as his sister stuck her tongue out at Lo'ak.

"You're mistaking me for you, bro. You must have forgotten the last time we raced, I left you in the dust." Lo'ak replied, cavalier and confident.

"You cheated that time, and you know it." Neteyam pointed at him sternly.

Lo'ak leaned into you, whispering in your ear, "Think of the slowest animal to ever exist.. that's how slow Neteyam is compared to me."

His taunts amused you, and although Neteyam didn't think his remarks were funny, you couldn't help but laugh, remembering your old pilot days with Trudy.

Lo'ak's lips curled into a smile, pride bubbling in his stomach for making you laugh. You all stopped when you reached the edge of the camp, craning your neck, your eyes gaped at the myriad of clouds covering the blue sky, slowly setting into sunset. Scattered through the air were the floating rocks of the mountains, vast and many in the distance.

With each call, the Sullys' ikrans came, landing on the rocks and taking hold with their talons, screeching loudly as a greeting.

Lo'ak patted his ikran's head affectionately, connecting his queue to his. Cautiously, you put a hand out, but your guardedness was unnecessary as his ikran felt Lo'ak's fondness of you, moving his head forward to meet your hand.

You were surprised by the gesture, smiling.

"He likes you," Lo'ak remarked.

"He's not the only one," Neteyam fake coughed, aiming to embarrass his brother, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face as he mounted his ikran.

Lo'ak clapped in fake enthusiasm then flipped his brother off with both hands.

Jake, who heard the commotion looked over, ready to scold his youngest son. Seeing the look in Jake's eyes, you put Lo'ak's fingers down, pushing him forward toward his ikran, "Just get on, won't you?"

He obeyed your orders, taking a seat on the saddle then offering a hand to you, "You better hold on tight. You know I like to ride fast." He glared at Neteyam, "Unlike some people we know."

"Stop trying to impress y/n with your lies." Neteyam replied, putting his visor on.

You moved Lo'ak's hand over, lifting yourself up onto his ikran. You were almost fully seated when Jake pulled your arm back down, the abruptness almost making you lose balance as your feet landed on the ground.

"What the hell—" You yelped, blinking up at Jake.

"You ride with me." He still held onto your arm, practically dragging you until you flicked his forehead hard in response.

"Ow!" He let go of you, placing his fingers where you had hit him, "Last time you flew with my son, you came back unconscious. I just don't want to take any chances." Jake explained sternly.

You squinted at him, "No, that vein sticking out of your forehead is telling me there's more to it."

Jake looked up, his fists balled as he sucked in a breath through his teeth, "Y/n—"

You put a hand up though shushing him, your expression determined as you defended Lo'ak, "Last time I flew with your son, he got me back here. Safely. So, cut Lo'ak some slack and have a little more faith."

Jake let a breath out, looking up, clearly contemplating and frustrated by your protests. Neytiri though, was having none of it, clearing her throat and prompting his attention, "Ma Jake." Neytiri lowered her eyes at her husband, "She will ride with Lo'ak. Now, let's go before the sun fully sets."

Groaning, Jake nodded, returning back to his ikran but not before he gave Lo'ak one final warning look, which Lo'ak reluctantly acknowledged with a nod.

Again, you lifted yourself onto his ikran, stabilizing yourself as you sat comfortably in front of him. He was unusually quiet with no flirtatious rally to tell you, causing you to look at him from behind.

He felt shy under your gaze but, he masked it immediately, smirking at you like he usually did, "Ready?"

"More than ever." You said, taking hold of the handles on the saddle.

Following Jake out, one by one, the sound of wings' flapping filled your ears and then you were into the sky, the wind dancing through your hair. You ascended upward, the flight to Oo-rah not too long as Lo'ak sped through the air.

For some reason, you were bothered that Lo'ak had no comment to make after you defended him, the silence between the two of you for the first ride deafening.

You looked back at him, catching his eye briefly before turning around, yelling over the wind, "I didn't have to defend you like that, you know."

Lo'ak didn't speak for a moment, leaning forward as he tried to decipher your expression. You looked at him from the side, your irritation making itself known in the glare you gave him.

When he realized how bothered you were, he felt exhilarated at having stirred some kind of reaction from you, a stark difference from your usual tendency to brush him off.

He finally replied to you, making sure his face was dangerously close to yours, "So, why'd you do it?"

He could have guessed your reasons very easily, feeling he had come to know you well enough. It was intensely you to put Jake in his place the way you did—he had seen you do it before. Not to mention, he thought the world of you, your moral compass irrefutable and your heart kind.

But, he just couldn't help but ask anyway, fishing for a specific answer as he hoped he could get you to admit your feelings.

You didn't say anything, trying to find the words to explain your reasons. It didn't help that you could feel Lo'ak's chest behind your back and his breath on your neck, the proximity making you nervous, like you were being studied under a microscope.

You cleared your throat, avoiding his eyes as you looked onward, "Because we're friends."

Lo'ak leaned backwards then accelerated without warning, dipping underneath one of the floating rocks, the movement forcing your grip on the left handle loose. Immediately, Lo'ak let go of one of the handles, cradling you diligently, his hold on you firm as gravity took over, your head now abruptly resting in the crevice between his neck and shoulder. Instinctively, you placed your hands on his arms, clasping onto him to regain your stability.

He beamed at you coyly, smug as he smoothly said, "Just friends?"

You knew you were bright red, the cold of the wind barely able to cool the heat on your face as you lightly touched your cheeks. You were completely flustered, but that didn't change that you were still irritated with him, "If this is your way of saying thank you, you're doing a shit job."

Oo-rah was just up ahead, Jake already landing on the cave's edge near the clearing of the ikran's lair, everyone else following behind him in a line formation.

"And how would you like me to show my gratitude? I can think of a lot of ways." Lo'ak emphasized, moving his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

You both hopped off his ikran and you turned to Lo'ak who was eager to hear your response.

You shoved his face away from yours, responding sarcastically, "Oh fuck off."

"No, you'd miss me." He placed his hand where yours had been, unable to contain the huge grin he had.

You walked over to Jake, and he threw something at you, "Tie the mouth with this first. You’ll know which one is yours because—“

“I know, I know. It’ll try to kill me.” You interrupted, looking down at what you caught.

It was a piece of twine with a ball of rope at the end of it. You practiced spinning it around before walking the cliff's edge, the hoard of ikrans seemingly greeting you with their cries and screeches.

As you continued to step forward, most of the ikrans avoided your eyes, not caring too much about your presence. Then, above, the loud flapping of wings caught your attention, your eyes following the descent of a teal and pink colored ikran. She hissed at you loudly, meeting your eyes with viciousness, and you met hers back with an equal viciousness of your own. You waited for the opportune moment to strike and when you felt that in your gut, you acted with utmost swiftness.

You could hear the Sullys cheering for you from behind as you tied her mouth, stunning her momentarily. You quickly hopped on her back, wrapping your arm around her neck, gripping for your life as she thrashed against it. Inching closer and closer to the cliff, your heart was pumping with so much adrenaline as you attempted to grab her queue, and in the midst of that, she threw both of you off the cliff.

You could barely hear everyone yell your name in fear and worry as you fell, spinning as gravity pulled you downward ruthlessly. The air become another adversary, threatening to plummet you to your doom, but you only tightened your grip on her queue while reaching behind for your own, your eyes focusing despite how quickly you were falling.

When you had reached that precipice, Lo’ak wasted no time following after you, jumping off the cliff as he called his ikran. He readied himself to catch you, but there was no need as he watched you finally make the bond. You straightened yourself on your ikran’s back, catching your breath as you felt her own, completely in tune as you commanded her to fly straight.

The Sullys were not far behind you, taking to the air with impossible quickness the moment you fell off the cliff.

You spun around to meet them, their whoops and cheers uplifting you. You bowed your head, taking the praise, and Jake neared you, worry still etched on his face, but his pride taking over as he grinned at you from ear to ear, "I told you not to scare me like that."

"I definitely beat your record." You flipped your hair with pride, laughing as he scowled.

"Like hell you did." Jake flew slightly forward, purposefully making you dodge his ikran's wings, the movement sending you backward slightly.

You gasped in offense, moving forward to do the same thing to him, but more aggressively as he dove downward to avoid you.

You tilted your head backward, laughing loudly at his stunned reaction. Neytiri joined in on the laughter as well, putting a hand to her mouth, so happy to see the two of you flying together at last. It was a sight she never thought that she would see, and she bubbled with joy seeing her husband so happy to be with you—his best friend.

"Alright, old man," You began, and looking to the sides, you called out, "Neteyam, Lo'ak, you, and me, we're racing. Now, I know you're used to going below twenty miles an hour, but try to keep up okay?"

Scoffing, Jake shrugged, "You must have forgotten, y/n, but I was born to do this."

"Right, right. And that was when again? Before the time of the First Songs?" You feigned a pout at him, fake doe eyes as you retorted sarcastically.

Kiri, who was merely enjoying the scenery, snickered at your joke, recognizing your humor as she praised you, "That was funny!"

"Oh, you guys are sooo losing." Lo'ak yelled out confidently.

"Rules? One lap back to the base and the first one back here wins?" Neteyam suggested.

Exchanging looks with one another, you all nodded, agreeing the terms.

"Kiri count us down!" Lo'ak insisted, and she groaned at the request but ultimately agreed.

The four of you lined up beside one another, you sandwiched between Neteyam, who was on your right, and Lo'ak on your left.

"What are you going to give me when I win?" Lo'ak asked you. indelicate in his tone.

"A kiss on the cheek." You teased, before facing forward.

"Are you being serio—" Lo'ak let out, but the sound of Kiri's loud "Go!" interrupted him.

Hearing her first syllable, you darted off, taking the lead, Neteyam and Jake close beside you, while Lo'ak slightly trailed behind, your response delaying him.

The sun was setting, the sky darkening slightly as warm hues of orange, yellow, and red took over. You dodged the floating rocks skillfully weaving your way through, your body leaning forward as you accelerated further and further.

The sight of the base was ahead, and Neteyam still matching your speed glanced over at you. You took the opportunity to dive under him when he did, your ikran vertical for a moment then flattening out as you sped forward.

You were the first to make it to the edge of the base, swiftly turning around and unexpectedly, everyone else had also caught up with you.

Jake, determined to win, flew above then downward in front of you, blocking your path and forcing you suddenly upside down.

With a new perspective, you caught sight of a shortcut, steering yourself there. Lo'ak, having known about that spot from previous races followed after you, the two of you zigzagging between each other.

The two of you were pulling ahead, with Neteyam and Jake mere inches from you both. Seeing Neytiri and Kiri, with every ounce of strength, you gained momentum with ferocity, advancing toward them. But, Lo'ak was right next to you, and smirking, he matched your speed, inching and inching forward, the last few seconds of the race suspenseful as the two of you shot forward past Neytiri and Kiri.

Reaching past the finish line, you turned around to see Neteyam and Jake crossing it. You saw Jake biting the bottom of his lip in disappointment at his defeat, granting you a satisfied grin.

"Who won? Definitely me, right?" Lo'ak yelled at his sister.

But, she had no clue, looking at her mother, who also was at a loss for words.

"No, no you're being delusional. I passed them first." You disagreed, your eyes looking for confirmation in Kiri's.

"Um, guys. I think it was a tie." Kiri replied, putting her hand at the back of her neck.

"It was y/n!" Tuk cried out from where she was seated with her mother.

"See!" You emphasized, turning to Lo'ak.

"Tuk is eight! She can barely tell the difference between a direhorse and a hexapede!" Lo'ak reasoned.

"Okay, then we're having a rematch. From here to the top of that mountain over there, toward the horizon." You pointed and his eyes followed your finger.

"I'm getting that kiss on the cheek." Lo'ak stated, and without another word, you two were off, any consideration of Jake's disapproval gone with the wind.

Neytiri caught onto Jake's worrying concern, easing it as she urged, "It is their last day in The Forest, Ma Jake. Let them enjoy it. Let y/n enjoy it, hmm? They'll come home soon enough for dinner. Let us go back."

Although he hated the idea of the two of you alone without his protection, the thought almost sending him into oblivion, he listened to Neytiri.

Flying had always been your favorite part about being a Marine, and when you had come to Pandora, you had always wanted to fly as you were now—no constrictions, no orders to obey, no mission to complete.

And after twenty years or so, you finally got to.

Through the endless Hallelujah Mountains, in and out of the entanglement of vines, and past the wispiness of the clouds, you slashed at the currents with elegant speed, surging freely in the flux. Once you came to a stopping point, landing on one of the nearby cliffs, Lo'ak's ikran hit the ground first, signaling his victory.

Yet you were too engrossed by the nature around you to realize that fact as you dismounted your ikran, eyes widened as you took it all in. The grass atop the cliff waved at you as the wind cascaded through it, and you looked out into the seemingly endless landscape, breathing in the freshness of the air and doing your best to commit the moment into your memory.

"Ahem." Lo'ak had his hands behind his back, his gaze expectant as he leaned forward, turning his cheek to you, "I think you owe me something."

“Fine, fine.” You gave in, stepping closer to him.

Leaning forward, you hovered over his cheek, about to press your lips to it, but as you did so, the dots on Lo'ak's skin began to glow, signaling the dawn of the night. Beyond, the darkening of the sky began to awaken the bioluminescene of the forest, the sun disappearing behind you and replacing it was the bright white moon.

You gasped in awed wonder, pulling away as you shifted your attention to the change of your scenery. You never got tired of the way The Forest would illuminate like this, the glow of it so vividly shimmering against the black of nightfall.

And while your eyes were busy, Lo'ak's were too, focusing on your figure as you walked away from him.

"You—"

"Shhh" You put your finger up, "I'm looking at all of this."

He grabbed onto your tail playfully, "And I'm—"

You whipped your body around to face him, defensive as you put your hands out, lunging to grab his tail in retaliation. He caught your hand as you leaped, pulling you forward.

He continued what he was saying, "And I'm looking at you."

Lo'ak paused and you could no longer distinguish the mischievous glint in his eyes as they bore into you, his affection dripping like honey.

Slowly, he continued to pull you forward, gently closing the gap between you. You did nothing to brush him off, too entranced as you took those small steps.

His hand still in yours, he tilted his head slightly, his voice soft, but firm.

"I See You."

You blinked up at him, a fog taking over your brain, your mouth open, but nothing coming out as you stood, stunned.

There was silence between the two of you, everything blurring as your vision fixated on one another. The tranquil of The Forest lent comforting warmth that blanketed the two of you, contrasting the rapid pumping of both of your hearts.

And perhaps it was because you were wrapped up in that moment, so taken by his words that you felt emboldened. Hooking your finger onto his necklace, you pulled him toward you, connecting your lips.

Lo'ak only widened his eyes in surprise for a second before he melted into you, trailing his hand up your arm as he cupped your cheek and the other took its place on your back, the gap between you closing as he deepened the kiss with tender adoration.

You allowed yourself to be in this moment with Lo'ak cherishing the suspension of reality, your mind calm, no ruminating about the purpose the Great Mother has for you, no concern of your father's revenge poisoning your thoughts, no distress found from losing your brother.

Enthralled in that freedom and peace, you felt as if you were in a dream, a good one that you would keep close to your heart.

You ghosted your fingers around his collarbone to grab onto the back of his neck, moving in rhythm with him and meeting him with the same passion before you quickly pulled away, the taste of his lips lingering on yours as you caught your breath.

Lo'ak, still in an enamored daze, lightly grazed your lips with his two fingers, a huge smile on his face, "I'm gonna expect this every time I win."

Your mind catching up with the desires of your heart, you repositioned your hands onto his shoulders, straightening your elbows to put distance between you and him.

"This was a one time thing." You clarified as you mentally scolded yourself for being so impulsive.

Furrowing his eyebrows at you, he met you with a confused expression, slight hurt lacing it, "Why?"

You patted his shoulders, sheepishly smiling, "We're friends."

"For now." Lo'ak said with a quickness.

"Lo'ak." You gave him a stern look, but you were still clearly flustered.

Lo'ak chuckled, "You kissed me!"

You had no rational comeback, spitting out whatever came to your head as you came to your own defense, stuttering, "Well, that was your fault! You were staring at me the way that you always stare at me but then you—"

"Then I what?" Lo'ak was wholly amused. He knew you liked him back, and he beamed with internal satisfaction.

Frustrated, you scratched the back of your neck, "You can't just say what you said, Lo'ak. It means something, it means everything!"

"Well, I meant it." Lo'ak shrugged casually, crossing his arms, "And I'm not taking it back."

You felt childish at this point, hesitating in pure disbelief as you let out a breath.

Uncrossing his arms and reading your expression, Lo'ak aimed to assure you, "If you want it to be a one time thing, then it's a one time thing. We're friends, of course we're friends."

You hardly believed him though, squinting at him as you tried to discern his intentions, expecting a mischievous comment.

And you were right in thinking that, Lo'ak looking up to the sky as he let his voice trail into the wind, "Even though you had nooo problem getting real close to me when we were in the air," He made eye contact with you again, "We're friends."

“We both know you did that on purpose," You warned, putting a finger up at him pointedly, "And also, you fly your ikran like you're drunk.” You scrunched your nose, playfully insulting him.

He brushed a stray hair away from your face, “I never did thank you, you know for defending me.”

You pinched his ear, causing him to wince, “Took you long enough.”

He rubbed his ear to ease the pain, “Look, I’m not the perfect soldier or the perfect son, so I’m not used to it. That’s why I didn’t know what to say at first.” Vulnerability coated his words as his hand went to the back of his neck.

“Well, you're perfect to me.” You had uttered it so nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders even, as if you had said it countless times before.

You watched his expression soften at your words, his gaze on you already shrouded with affection now decorated in adoration, his heart beating so fast he swore it was going to pop out of his chest.

Whirling around, he put his hands at his temples then extended his arms out, palms outstretched to the sky, the tips of his fingers in your view, "You say these things, and you're just begging to be kissed. I swear."

"Don't make me punch you again." You warned, balling your fists up.

"Stand down there, beautiful. I'm only joking." Lo'ak put a hand up, easing your fists down.

You sighed, "What I'm trying to say is that even though your dad is my best friend, I don't agree with everything he does. And that includes how he treats you."

Lo'ak was about to make another flirtatious joke, but you continued, "And your siblings."

He put his hands at his hips, looking down at the ground, "Had to bring them into it too, huh?" He muttered, "So romantic."

"I knew Jake when he was like you. Stubborn. Troublesome—"

"Fun?" Lo'ak added.

You chuckled, nodding, "I'm surprised he's so strict now."

"Trust me, the way he acts when you're around is more surprising. He hasn't joked like that since Neteyam, Kiri, and I were kids. But that was before the Sky People came back and started building that city."

And suddenly, the worries you had came flooding back, the harsh reality sinking its teeth into the dream that you so desperately wanted to stay in.

Yet, that was the thing about dreams.

Sooner or later, you have to wake up.

The People.

The Forest.

They would become relics to you as you once became a relic to it.

Everything was set by the next day, and just as quickly as you had settled into camp, you were leaving once again for a brand new horizon.

The People had gathered onto the ground to attend the ceremony of the new Olo’eyktan, but what was meant to be a joyous celebration was tainted by overwhelming loss and sadness.

Jake knew his successor, Tarsem, was wise beyond his years, that he would make a strong Olo'eyktan.

But as you looked upon Jake's face, his expression strong and stoic, you could still see the pain in his eyes.

The memories you had in your new body didn't remember the Final Battle, the day that you first saw Jake in the air on Toruk. You didn't remember it, but you knew you felt proud. It was who he was always meant to be.

The leader must die, so the leader can be born.

Toruk Makto will disappear.

The People will be safe.

With this new beginning came tearful goodbyes as the Omaticaya bid you all farewell, and you had maintained your strength until you saw Norm and Max. You couldn’t hold your tears in as you gave them both one final hug.

Mo'at gave her final embraces before your departure, and when she finally got to you, she put her hands on your shoulders, “My child, whatever you may experience beyond this forest, the Great Mother has ordained you as one of The People. Do not forget that.”

You gave her one last hug, “I won’t. I promise.”

You were at the edge of a cliff, vast, blue, open sea ahead of you, ikrans ready to fly. But you were hardly focused on what was ahead as you looked back at The Forest, etching and ingraining every detail of it in your mind.

Into the air, suddenly the feeling of leaving felt like true resignation, the momentary banter between you and Jake forgotten as you looked out into the open sea, seemingly endless, full of possibilities. But what was meant to be a fresh start was only cloaked with the sweeping melancholy that you and the Sullys felt inside as The Forest, the colossal trees, the lush landscape, and the presence of the aviary creatures amidst the foliage became a green mirage, smaller and smaller as you ventured further out until the sight of it could no longer be seen.

One life ends.

Another begins.

Author's Note

to my lovers clan,

i'm so so sorry for taking so long to give you guys an update. life has been insane these past two years and i finally was able to finish up this chapter and move forward with the series.

in truth, my creativity was so shot and i couldn't bring myself to write work that i wasn't proud of. you guys deserve the absolute best!

for everyone who has waited for my series, i really really love you and appreciate you. to know that there are people out there that have taken the time to read my work, it is a blessing.

if you liked the chapter, let me know what you think in the comments! i always love reading your thoughts!

please always take care of yourselves!

love,

nana <3

~~side note here: going to break down some of my choices down for this chapter, so if you’re interested, read on!

i really leaned into the themes of friendship and family in this chapter and i focused on the forest and flashbacks because this will be the last time we'll see them in this setting.

i fell in love with the first movie so long ago, that when i rewatched the extended version recently, i realized that i forgot that neytiri had a sister!

i thought that the flashback i added with her really enriched the storyline and the connection between Grace, Jake, and the reader, while adding more volume to HOW two worlds could collide—how a boss could become a friend.

Spider getting captured right after they connected too was so necessary because I really wanted him to feel so conflicted — he had just connected with his sister, felt a bond with her, and suddenly he realizes that he can't fully hate his father. It mirrors how the reader also feels about Quaritch, but her history with him, her sense of duty and moral compass guide her more toward the Sullys, while Spider struggles with it a little more.

And then these moments with Jake and y/n too! Like, they are BEST friends. But to him, you've always been the baby, so him getting all protective now that he's a dad was a comedic choice that I couldn't resist. Cause it's like... Jake that's your whole ass son and you're cockblocking???? And then of course, Neytiri, even though she doesn't outwardly show it (like her mother Mo'at our grand shipper of the Lo'ak reader ride), she doesn't mind that Lo'ak is clearly interested in you

THENNNN,

we have our stars of the show, the slow burn romance we're all dying for— Lo'ak and reader.

LIKE SHE KISSED HIM? (I mean, shit me too honestly, but damn, who would have thought?)

I was originally gonna have him kiss her first, but it felt so much more of a natural move for her to just do it, the moment so right for her and then the INSTANT regret of it on her end, and Lo'ak teasing her after—it encompasses how easy their relationship is and how willing Lo'ak is to just take things at her pace, even though he's ready to dive right in.

also, p.s. i still have my taglists and will update it, but with how the character limit is, i wasn't able to put everybody down on this post.

taglist:

@mae-is-crazy @mrs-sullys-blog @23victoria @neteyamforlife @a-queen-blr @neteyamslovr @fifty-shades-of-mischeif @pretty-npeach @tonni30 @itsemy01 @jimfiqs

#avatar way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar x reader #avatar #nanasloversclan #avatar loak #loak imagine #loak x reader #loak sully #atwow loak #atwow #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #loak #nanasilwefic!#nanasavatarfics #jake sully

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 7 months ago

Text

I’m sorry I wasn’t enough pt 2 final

Neteyam sully x Reader mate

Pairing: Neteyam te sully x wife Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury

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It was like a dream, weird swirling colors, buzzing noises, nothing really making sense but somehow you knew what was going on. You were passing on…going back to the great mother. Your finger had long left your neck. The silence afterwards sealing your fate. He didn’t hear you.. he wouldn’t come…

The swirling colors increased until your vision was completely obscured. Who knew dying would look so.. so beautiful…

You didn’t feel any pain anymore, just a calm numb feeling… it wouldn’t be long now… your eyes fluttered closed, the colors morphing into swirling darkness.

You accepted your fate, welcomed it even just a bit. Your only desire was to let go.

Something was making noise making you flinch a bit as the peace was disturbed.

The noise didn’t stop, something.. no someone was yelling something… a pressure on your face and body, something pressing into your delicate skin.

You tried to push it away, wanting to be at peace again but felt something holding your hands down,

Stop- mv—- please—- help someon-!

A voice in the distance muffled but somehow familiar..

Suddenly the numbness was gone and firey hot pain tugged you back to reality. Your eyes shot open but you couldn’t see anything, only blurs of color.

You cried out loudly trying to move away whatever was pressing on your wound making it hurt more.

“I know I know I’m sorry! Just hold on, I need to keep pressure, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t believe your ears.

“N-neteyam?” You sobbed out.

“Shh don’t talk, just stay still-why didn’t you say anything before!?”

That made you hurt worse than the wound,

“I-I’m s-sorry, please d-don’t be mad” you choked out more sobs.

“I’m- I’m not mad please don’t talk, just hold still please”.

You silently cried as he tried his best to apply pressure.

You squeezed shut your eyes trying to shut out the pain.

“I need to get you to grandmother”

You felt Neteyam move your hands and he instructed you to hold down, then quickly he gathered you up into his arms.

How ironic you thought, for months all you wanted was for him to embrace you like this.

You kept your eyes closed but from the air zipping past you you could tell Neteyam was running as fast as he could.

You could feel yourself weakening again, having no strength left your head rested on his chest.

His heartbeat is so fast…

“Don’t fall asleep, stay awake please, we’re almost there!”

You hummed trying your best to keep your eyes open.

“Grandmother help! Kiri! She’s been shot-please!”

Moat had never heard Neteyam so frantic since he was a child. She quickly urged him over to a bed on the ground and wasted no time inspecting the wound.

“Neteyam hold her up I need to see her back”.

Neteyam muttered an apology when you groaned in protest.

“No exit.. the bullets still inside, we need to get it out quickly, she’s lost too much blood. Neteyam you need to hold her still, this will hurt..”

Neteyam as instructed moved behind you holding you tightly down.

“Be strong child…” you braced yourself but nothing could have prepared you for the pain.

You immediately screamed and thrashed but Neteyam held you down,

“Shh mawey mawey, it’ll be over soon, mawey mate” Neteyam spoke into your ear, heart feeling like it was being ripped apart by each and every scream.

“Hold her down!”

Neteyam nodded and held you even tighter, “shh it’s alright, everything will be alright, I’m sorry”

“There it is done..”

Neteyam let out a breathe of relief, “it’s over, breathe mate breathe..”

“Will she be ok?” You felt the arms around you loosen and guiding you back to lay down. Although the hand on your shoulder stayed..

Moat nodded, “the bullet is out but she has lost a lot of blood. She will be weak for awhile but I believe she will be fine. I will watch her closely, don’t worry child..”

“Here give her this to drink” Moat handed her grandson a wooden cup filled with a mushy green liquid.

You were almost asleep when you felt your head being lifted up, “Drink y/n, it’ll help with the pain..”

This time when your eyes opened they were able to focus on the furrowed brows of your mate. His glowing eyes focused on the cup at your lips. You choked a bit and he held you up a bit higher. A warm finger swiped at the liquid that dribbled down your lips.

Maybe you were dead…

Neteyam realized you were looking at him although words seemed to fail the both of you at the moment. With a clearing of his throat he settled you back down. You felt something cold and soothing being applied to your wound and soon you were lulled into sleep.

***************************************************

Neteyam watched as your breathing changed. He let out a sigh and leaned back. Hands running over his head.

“Neteyam!” The tent flap opened revealing his parents.

“What happened?!” Jake crouched next to his son eyes scanning over you before landing back on neteyam.

“She was shot…” Neteyams voice was tired and full of emotion.

Neytiri gasped and kneeled down on the other side and held your hand. “Will she be ok?”

“She should recover. We had to remove the bullet but it didn’t hit anything vital” Moat spoke up.

“Thank the mother…”

After some silence Jake eyed his son who looked like he’d shot her himself by his demeanor.

“You ok?” Jake placed a hand on his shoulder.

Neteyam glanced up, “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

“She’ll be ok, she’s tough ya know.”

Neteyam stayed quiet, the one thought haunting him. Why did she hide it?

His mother ever so observant asked him, “what is it Neteyam?”

His eyes flitted up to her, then his father then back to you, guilt flooding his features.

“She didn’t tell me..”

“Didn’t tell you what?” Jake furrowed his brow.

“That she was hurt…”

Jake and Neytiris eyes widened, silently his mother got up and came to his other side pulling him in.

***************************************************

When you awoke the next morning you were in a lot of pain but not nearly anything compared to before.

Your mouth was incredibly dry so you tried to sit up to find some water.

You winced at the burning sensation.

“Stop you shouldn’t move yet!” Your eyes widened and whipped to the side finding Neteyam kneeling beside you quickly supporting your back and guiding you back down.

You tried to speak then quickly remembered the reason you wanted to get up in the first place.

“Here” he poured you some water into a cup and to your surprise instead of handing it to you he held it up to your lips in one hand and lifted your head with the other.

After you were done he set it back down. “How do you feel?”

“I’m alright..”

Silence

How you wished you could disappear this very moment…

“I um…I-I…” you hated how the tears were starting to come back so fast but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to apologize for so many things.

Neteyam looked a bit puzzled.

“A-are you in pain? I’ll call grandmother” he rose up quickly but you stopped him.

“No I-I’m fine…”

“Then what’s wrong…?” He kneeled back down a bit confused.

“I-I wanted to say I’m so sorry for everything… I know what I did was… I’m so so s-sorry”

Neteyam blinked, clearly taken aback by your words. His eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something — maybe forgiveness, maybe confusion — but you couldn’t be sure. The sincerity in your voice, the rawness of your apology, seemed to cut through the room like a sharp breath.

“What are you talking about?” he asked gently, his tone almost lost in the stillness of the room. He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring, even though the weight of your apology hung in the air between you.

“I… I should’ve told you… what I was feeling. What I was going through,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You felt exposed, vulnerable, like the walls you’d carefully built up around yourself were crumbling to dust. “I should’ve said something, Neteyam. But I kept it inside. I kept hiding it, pretending like it wasn’t happening… like it didn’t matter. And then, when everything went wrong, I… I thought it would be easier if I just…”

His fingers tightened slightly on your shoulder, urging you to stop, his gaze intense. “No. Don’t say that.” His voice was firm, but soft — the tone of someone who had lived enough to know that guilt could eat you alive if you let it. “Y/N, listen to me. You don’t have to apologize for any of it. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

“But I hurt you, Neteyam. I—" Your breath hitched again, the knot in your chest tightening.

He shook his head, a soft sigh escaping him. “You didn’t hurt me,” he said, his voice low, almost like he was reassuring himself as much as you. “I didn’t know what you were going through either. You weren’t the only one keeping things in. But I… I should’ve noticed sooner. I should’ve been there for you, in the way you needed me to be.”

The weight of his words — the unspoken responsibility he was placing on himself — made you want to shrink. But at the same time, it gave you a strange comfort, like a weight lifting from your chest, even if just a little.

He looked at you, his eyes full of concern. “Don’t carry this burden alone. Not anymore. You don’t have to.”

You couldn’t answer right away, the rush of emotions swirling within you. But before you could speak, he leaned in a little closer, his hand still gently cradling your shoulder.

“I’m not angry with you, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but somehow so steady. “I’m just… I’m scared.” His words sent a pang through your heart. “You scared me. I almost lost you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just for the things you hadn’t said. They were for everything — the fear, the love, the closeness you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice breaking.

He shook his head once more. “No, no more apologies. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

You blinked at him, confused, a small sob escaping you. “But… Neteyam, I’m not strong like you. I’m not like everyone else. I can’t handle everything, and I don’t know how to continue on like this.. I just… I just want to be okay… for us to be ok..”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached forward, his thumb gently brushing the tears from your cheek, a small smile forming on his lips. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Y/N. You don’t have to handle everything alone.” His voice softened, growing tender. “I’m here. From now on I’ll be here”.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and a strange calmness began to settle over you, as if his words, his touch, were healing something deep inside you.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” you murmured, the weight of the unspoken finally coming to the surface. You could feel his breath close to yours as he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. The warmth between you was all-consuming.

“You’re not alone anymore,” he repeated, almost like a vow.

You closed your eyes, letting the feeling of his presence, his promise, wash over you. And for the first time in a long while, the gnawing fear, the doubt — the suffocating loneliness — began to fade, replaced by something far gentler: a sense of belonging.

Later that evening, after the storm of emotions had subsided, Neteyam stayed by your side, even as his parents left to give you both some time to recover. The fire in the center of the hut flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the room. The gentle hum of the jungle outside felt distant, almost like a memory.

You could hear Neteyam’s breath, steady and rhythmic as he sat by your side, watching over you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this safe, this cared for.

“I didn’t know what to do when I found you,” he murmured quietly after some time, his hand still resting gently against yours. “You were slipping away… I thought… I thought I might lose you.”

You could feel the weight of his words settle into the space between you, and you wanted so badly to reach out, to reassure him. But it was hard to find the words. What could you say?

You squeezed his hand, and when you looked up at him, you saw the raw vulnerability in his eyes. The emotion in his gaze was so pure, so sincere, that it made your heart ache.

“I’m here, Neteyam. I’m not going anywhere.” Your voice was soft, but strong, the conviction in it clearer than ever before.

He stared at you for a long moment, as if measuring the sincerity in your words. And then, as if you had finally said the one thing he needed to hear, his lips curled into the smallest of smiles.

“Good,” he whispered. “Because I.. I want things to change.. I want us to be better. I’m sorry I’ve let things go on the way they have been for so long.. and I know things won’t change overnight but I promise to do better.. to be better because I do care for you…”

You smiled truly for the first in months and did something you’ve wanted to do for so long. You leaned forward and kissed him softly. A silent promise that you’d do your best too.

So sorry for the long wait! Life’s been chaotic but I’m back! Hope you enjoyed:)

@iloverhestars @hey-girl-hey @misshale21 @misscaller06 @christinechikiee @crazytacokoala @freellamabeliever @hiddenworld666 @tatahungry @levi-09

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #self insert #angst #fluff #x reader #avatar way of water #jake sully #neytiri #wife #mate #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #avatar the way of water #imagine #Neteyam mate

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byunpum · 2 years ago

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Mama's boy

Pair: Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's

Warning: none, lo'ak being a sweet little potato for is mama. Sweet family moment.

Request: (anon) You were incredible in these new chapters, if it wasn't much, I would have been able to do a trisal story about Jake, neitiry and reader human where she has 2 more hybrid children (half human,Half na'vi)..

Note: I have always believed that avatars may be able to reproduce with humans. Both males and females. Since there are human traits in their DNA. So both jake and his children could reproduce with any human. That is my theory.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6(final)

You loved days like this, it was a fresh and calm day in the jungle of Pandora. No one in the family had anything important to do. Just relax and spend time together. If anyone had told you that in a few years you were going to be sitting quietly on the floor of your home. With your son on your lap, while playing with one of his toys. With such loving partners, you wouldn't have believed them. And you had a good point for not believing. Neytiri and Jake were your mates, while you were human. The only human who was mated to two na'vi. The only human who had given birth to a na'vi baby, naturally.

Lo'ak had been born as a na'vi. With his distinctive braid, tail, skin color, ears etc. Just like his father, jake. But his human features were always there, he inherited your hands, some facial features that made him different from his siblings. Like kiri, they were a mixture of human and na'vi. This was not important to you, in your family these differences were not important and everyone was treated equally.

Neytiri was running around in circles playing with kiri, while neteyam was playing with jake. Meanwhile lo'ak was sitting very comfortably on your lap. Sucking his little finger, while you cuddled him. He was very peaceful, well…when he was with you. The bond that lo'ak had with you was very strong, he needed his mommy with him all the time. Neteyam and kiri were more active, while lo'ak preferred to be by your side. You tried to keep him away from you, so that he would become more independent. But it was all in vain, even mo'at herself told you that this was normal. That eventually he would become more independent, but he was already 5 years old, and he didn't seem to improve. Of course, this never bothered you… lo'ak became your own tail. Always behind you. Lo'ak could be with neytiri, about 3 to 5 hours. But then he would cry for you to hold him, and it was the same with jake. Lo'ak just wanted to be with you.

Neteyam ran to you, hugging you. The boy was about your size, but you didn't care. Hugging him back, to give him lots of kisses on his cheeks. Neteyam didn't notice but pushed lo'ak off your lap, causing the boy to fall to the ground. "mama… I want to be with you" says neteyam, now sitting where lo'ak once was. Lo'ak immediately began to cry. It was a very big and exaggerated whine. "Calm love…neteyam needs to be with me too" you try to calm him down, but you could barely touch him. Because neteyam was curled up on your chest. Neytiri comes closer, taking lo'ak in her arms to calm him down.

After a long six minutes, lo'ak calms down. But you can see how the child looks down from above, on Neytiri's shoulder. His eyes were watery and he was pouting. You try to ignore him, he has to learn that you were not only from him. Neteyam was also your son, as was Kiri. And they too demanded your attention. Kiri approaches his younger brother, hopping from neytiri's feet. "You're a mama's boy… an ugly, crying baby," Kiri says jokingly. Neytiri scolds her, while you and jake couldn't hold in the laughter. It was funny, but you take Kiri by the arm. Sitting her down next to you.

"Kiri…that's not right, lo'ak is special. He needs a lot of love" says neytiri holding the child in her arms, hoping he doesn't start crying. "No…mama is mine!!!!" says neteyam, hugging your neck more. Lo'ak whimpers, lifting his head from neytiri's shoulder. "Noooo mama is mine" shouts lo'ak.

"No!!!, only mine!!!" neteyam yells back, sticking out his tongue. This makes lo'ak upset, and he starts to cry. "nooo mama!!!! Let go of neteyam!!!!! Mama let go of me, I want to go on the floor" lo'ak is crying, while neytiri giggles a little. It's adorable to watch as the two children fight for your attention. Jake gets up from the floor, walking to your direction and taking neteyam from your lap. To now lay him down on the floor. Kneeling on the floor to carry you in his arms, bridal style. You laugh, as the children begin to whine.

"Technically, your mom is all mine" jake says, sticking his tongue out at his kids, reaching over to give you a kiss on your forehead. Watching as they start to whine. Neytiri was giggling, while now all the kids wanted her to carry them to keep up with jake. "Well…I'd say I'm more Neytiri's than yours" you say, reaching up to give him a kiss on the tip of his nose. (Y/N is wearing the oxygen mask I'm always mentioning, "click here" to learn more about it) Neytiti lets out a loud laugh, you could see her cheeks turn purple. Neytiri had a soft spot for you. Jake lets out a sigh of surrender and hugs you tighter. Leaving kisses on your neck, while you laugh.

In the evening, everyone was settled in their respective hammocks. You were finishing getting Kiri settled, while Jake put the boys to bed. After a while, you lay down in your own hammock, you were tired. You were about to go to sleep, when you feel little hands touching your arm. You open your eyes, finding lo'ak's little face. The child had his arms outstretched for you to carry him. Laughing a little, you hold the child. And settle him on your chest. Snuggling him with your arms, giving him lots of kisses on the crown of his head. "My beautiful baby…you are sad" you lullaby to lo'ak. He only responds with a "hmmm" and falls asleep in your arms.

Jake comes up to you one last time, to check that all was well. As he approaches, he notices how you and lo'ak were cuddling. "I imagined he was with you," Jake said softly. Leaning in to give you a kiss on the tip of your nose. "Well… you know what he's like" you joke. "He's a mama's boy…a cute mama's boy. You know…" jake pauses, thinking about how he was going to say what he was going to say next. "Eventually you'll have to let him grow up…kids his age are more independent and " jake is interrupted, when one of your hands goes to his mouth. "Shhh shut up…when it's time, he'll grow up on his own…in the meantime we'll be here for him." you speak, slapping jake's arm playfully. There was a small silence, until you see a playful smile on Jake's lips.

"Babe…why don't you leave lo'ak here quietly and come sleep with me and neytiri" jake takes your hand and gives it a kiss on the palm, causing you to giggle and blush. "Together…the three of us" jake jokes biting your fingers. You laugh softly, trying not to wake lo'ak. You think about it for a moment, and the truth is you missed sleeping with jake and neytiri. Lo'ak consumed too much of your time, so you accept Jake's offer. You carefully settled lo'ak down, making sure he was comfortable.

Jake was behind you, excited. You could hear his tail bump between his legs. He held your hand, walking quickly to the hammock that you and Jake and Neytiri usually shared. Neytiri watches as you and Jake approach. She gets excited, it had been about 3 months since you last slept with them. Reaching out her hand, she takes yours. You climb in easily, feeling Jake hold you around the waist. Both of you settling into the hammock. You were in the middle of them, neytiri hugged you. While Jake hugs you from behind, burying his head in the back of your neck. "I missed this," says neytiri, enjoying the comfort. A couple of minutes later, lo'ak's crying began to be heard. You lift your head from neytiri's chest, beginning to stand up. When you feel her hug you tighter. "No… Y/N you must let him calm down himself" neytiri says. "Y/N, neytiri is right" jake speaks.

"He ate, he's clean and he's comfortable. He can be alone" says neytiri, she was serious. You knew you had to leave him alone, but lo'ak was your baby. Your only baby. "If he doesn't stop crying in five minutes, I'll go check on him. You stay here and rest," Jake speaks, kissing your shoulder. Your partner had you in his arms, if it wasn't for that you'd be at lo'ak's side by now. And as if by magic, lo'ak stopped crying. Jake got out of the hammock and checked from afar. Seeing how the child had already fallen asleep.

"See…it's all right," says Neytiri, hugging you even tighter. You snuggle closer to her. As you feel jake settle in behind you. Hugging you both. This parenting thing was all new to all of you.

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erenjaegerwifee · 13 days ago

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Love Of My Life (part two)

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Avatar!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, explicit language, smut, p in v, oral (f & m receiving), mating, spanking, kissing, mentions of death, mentions of blood, mentions of injury, scary monsters, established relationship. Word Count: 54.9k (yea I know…)

✨Disclaimer: All my characters are aged-up! If you have an issue with that, do not interact with my account or any of my posts.

✨ Okay guys, this is an immediate continuation of part 1. The blocks towards the end get longer cause I didn’t want to run out of blocks and had to make a third part. I love all the support I’ve gotten and I’m going to put a post here. This post contains spoilers for this fic but I didn’t want to publish without the warnings. Read at your own risk. I don’t think it’s anything bad but I’m not at liberty to say what triggers people so that’s why I’m putting it.

Neytiri’s stare was hard, angry, Kiri tilted her head slightly, her eyes drifting from her brother to the way he held you, like he’d physically come apart without you against him.

“I knew something was wrong.”

Jake looked at her, then back at Neteyam, before he could speak, Lo’ak spoke up, “why did you think you couldn’t tell us bro? Or me at least.”

Neteyam’s gaze softened at him, “I wanted too, I was going too.” He muttered, “but then I saw tsireya and she just reminded me so much of y/n and I got all up in my head. My thoughts twisted up and I started to see things and when I stopped seeing tsireya completely… I let it go. In my head everyone loved her, and she was with me and…” he looked down at you, “and I didn’t make the mistake of leaving you here.”

He looked back at Lo’ak and Tsireya, “and I’m sorry for how I acted, but it wasn’t… real. Tsireya is still one of my best friends and I’d never consciously do that to you.”

Lo’ak looked at him for a second before sighing, he knew his brother, he knew he was telling the truth.

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Neytiri who’s expression still hadn’t softened.

Kiri spoke up once more, “so what now?” Her voice was clam but firm

“I want her to come back with me,” Neteyam said immediately. Neytiri’s head snapped towards him.

“To the clan?” Jake asked carefully.

“Yes.”

“That is not your decision.” Neytiri said tightly.

“Maybe not,” Neteyam agreed, “its not. But I’m not asking for permission, either she goes back with me ore I stay here.”

“And what are you asking for?” Jake narrowed his eyes.

“Trust.” Neteyam said, his grip on you tightening. “From my family, the people who love me most in this world. Trust me.”

Silence, you could feel the way their eyes passed over you, scanning your frame, your face, your expression. Like you’re not the enemy but now a friend either. Neytiri looked at her son, the way his body coiled around yours like you were made of something fragile. Her jaw clenched, she wasn’t sure how to process this.

Jake looks between them again. “Alright it’s late we fly back to the village at first light, Kiri, Lo’ak, Tsireya, well stay here tonight.” He looks towards you. “I assume there is enough space?” He points to the cabin, and you nod before looking between all of them.

“You, get some rest. Tomorrow you will ask tonowari if she can stay. And you tell the truth, all of it” he said to Neteyam.

“And if they reject her?” Neytiri asked suddenly, voice shake and challenging,

Jake looked at her then back to Neteyam, “we’ll figure it out if that happens.”

You tap his chest to let him know you’re standing up, “I’m going inside,” you whisper, and he automatically stands and lets you go, “I’ll be right there.”

Neteyam stood eyes on the doorway for a long moment, the cabin’s quiet wrapping around him while the weight of his family’s presence pressed in. You were already inside, out of sight, but your warmth still lingered on his skin. He exhaled, slow and deliberate, then turned to face them fully. The tension was palpable.

Jake had moved closer, not aggressive, but commanding, his chin tilted slightly up, arms loosely crossed. Neytiri stood rigidly near the wall, eyes narrowed, torn between protective fury and maternal caution. Kiri hovered by Lo’ak, who watched Neteyam with a confused mixture of lingering hurt and disbelief. No one spoke for a moment.

“I’m still your son,” Neteyam said finally. “But I’m not the same boy who left that battlefield.”

“You don’t need to tell us that,” Jake said. “We’ve been watching you spiral since the moment you walked back into our lives. You locked us out.”

“I know, I was scared dad,” he started softly, “I missed you, my family so much. It is the reason I left her here, I just didn’t except to miss her so much.”

Lo’ak finally stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides, not in anger, but frustration. “You didn’t even look at me, Neteyam. You looked through me. I thought you hated me. I thought you blamed me.”

“I never blamed you; I told you that lo” Neteyam said quickly, shaking his head. “Never. I blamed the war. The cost of it. I blamed myself for being careless. I blamed Eywa for letting me live when I was ready to die.” Lo’ak blinked, caught off guard by the raw honesty. Kiri moved closer to him instinctively.

“And her?” Neytiri asked, her voice sharper now. “You trust her more than your family?”

“No,” Neteyam said. “But she saw me when I couldn’t see myself. She did what you would have done if you were with me instead of her.”

Jake stepped closer. “That’s the part we’re trying to understand. This… connection. This hold she has on you. We don’t know her. We only know what the RDA made.”

Neteyam’s jaw tensed. “She isn’t what they made. She’s what she chose to become. Just like we all are.” There was silence again, a slow realization settling in.

Kiri spoke next, softly, “You love her.” Neteyam didn’t flinch. “Yes Kiri, I literally saw her in another woman. If that’s not love I don’t know what love is. Lo’ak looked down, jaw working. “And what if she leaves? What happens to you then?”

“I don’t know,” Neteyam admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’d rather face that pain than live with the silence I had before.”

Jake studied him a long time before he nodded slowly. “We stay tonight. We’ll speak to her in the morning. All of us.”

“And if I feel anything is off,” Neytiri added coldly, “I won’t hold back.”

Neteyam looked at her, his gaze steady. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

No more words. No goodnight. Just the fragile, uneasy quiet of a family slowly stepping into unfamiliar territory, trusting, but not yet convinced. Neteyam turned and walked back inside. Behind him, Neytiri muttered to Jake, “That girl better be worth every scar he carries.”

Jake just watched the door close and murmured, “We’ll find out soon enough.”

Neteyam walked in leaving the door open for them to come in when they are ready. You stood in the kitchen; you turned to face him leaning against the counter behind you. Finally, you got him alone.

His steps were unrushed, but he made it to you within seconds, “hi baby,” his hands found your waist and he dipped his head in your neck inhaling your scent. “Hi..” you hug him back tightly; you were so happy to see him again. “I missed you” you said softly.

“Not as much as I missed you.” He raised his head to look down at you, brushing the hair out of your face.

“Are you sure you want me to go back with you? I don’t even speak na’vi.”

“I will teach you, I will teach you everything you need to know. I will not leave your side again. And if they reject your uturu, we will come back here. And stay together.” You smile sadly and shake your head, “Nete… I don’t want to take you away from your family. I know how much you love them.”

“If we are to come back here, they’ll know where to find me. I’m not leaving you again.”

“What happened while you were in Awa’atlu? How was it seeing your family and friends again?”

Neteyam looked down at the floor like it had personally offended him, “Well, seeing my family was everything I could have imagined. It was good; I had missed them. And it was nice seeing my friends.” “That doesn’t sound so convincing.” You squint at him.

He shifted. “It was good. I just—uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I was going to leave out some things.” You open your mouth to press, but before you couple a voice came from behind him.

Lo’ak entered first, holding Tsireya’s hand, “I KNEW he was going to do this,”

Kiri followed behind him, already smiling like she knew exactly what was going on. Tsireya stood quietly with a smile. “He always chokes at the confession part.” He continued. Neteyam groaned, “seriously? I do not”

Kiri ignored him and spoke, “mhmm. Hi,” she said to you casually. “Sorry, didn’t mean to barge in or eavesdrop. Or—okay yes we did.”

Tsireya spoke next in a soft voice, “we picked fruit from your garden I hope that’s ok.” She said holding the fruit up in her other hand. You nod at her, she seemed like a very kind girl. Lo’ak dropped into a chair by the kitchen table. “Oh, don’t mind us. Keep going. You were about to lie?”

“I wasn’t going to lie—” Neteyam started, then with a pointed look continued. “I was going to protect her feeling.” His statement made you raise an eyebrow.

“From what? The fact that you though my girlfriend was her?” Lo’ak raised an eyebrow pointing at you. “Because I gotta say, that was one of the weirder things I’ve seen you do.”

“You what?” You gasped softly surprised as you smile. Kiri crossed her arms, her eyes twinkling. “Yeah, you’re supposed to explain like: ‘Hey, while I was suffering a psychotic breakdown and pining for the woman who saved my life, I kinda started projecting her face onto my brother’s girlfriend. Oops.”

Tsireya cleared her throat. “To be fair, it was very subtle at first, then he called me baby in the middle of sorting shells, it was kind of sweet though.”

Neteyam groaned, “oh Eywa.” You glance at him, your lip twitching, “baby? Really?”

“I was delusional!” He blurted. “It was a full-on delusion! You try getting shot and waking up thinking you’re dead and then fall in love with the woman who saved you from bleeding out on her couch.” Everyone was quiet for a second.

“Okay fair,” Lo’ak admitted. “Still, weird though.”

Neteyam finally looked down at you, face blushed softly. “I didn’t mean to project you onto her, I didn’t even realize I was doing it at first. But when I did, I felt sick. I didn’t realize how much I missed you, I didn’t wanna pretend anymore.”

You rub your hands in his arm softly. “It’s alright Neteyam, I can understand where you're coming from, I missed you too.” You say softly. Kiri folded her arms, “we don’t, but you are still our brother, we love you and we will stand with you.”

Lo’ak snorted. “Speak for yourself. I had to watch him cuddle with my girlfriend like she was a storybook princess. It was disturbing my peace of mind.” Tsireya smiled sheepishly. “I thought he was just being affectionate. In a brotherly way.”

“Brotherly??” Lo’ak barked, blinking at her like she grew a second head. “You really thought that? You’ve met my brother, right? Tall, broody, emotionally constipated?”

“He doesn’t cuddle with anyone. If that was brotherly affection, then I’ve been hugging people wrong my entire life.”

“At least he didn’t try to mate with Tsireya…” Jake said. The room went silent before the outburst. You didn’t even see them come inside. Neytiri stood behind Jake as she looked around the room and Jake looked at his children gathered around the table.

Lo’ak’s head snapped back to look at his dad in horror, “Dad!”

Kiri nearly choked on air, “ew! Why would you say that?”

Tsireya blinked like she was about to melt into the floor, “that’s—I— he never—”

Your head whipped to look away from everyone, leaning it on Neteyam who still stood with his arms around you to hold back your laughter. Neteyam’s voice came through, “Eywa dad...really?” He screwed his face up.

Jake just shrugged, as if it was the most rational conclusion in the world. “I’m just saying, we’ve had worse breakdowns. Remember when Kiri talked to a fish for three days and swore it was Eywa?”

“That fish guided me!” Kiri yelled, “but speaking of breakdowns, remember the time Lo’ak tried to ‘calmly’ commune with that seas turtle and it bit him?” She laughed.

Tsireya’s eyes widened, gasping as she looked at him, “you what?!”

Lo’ak groaned, “no not this….”

Neteyam smirked, “you were like, ‘I sense his peacefully energy’ and the thing latched into your finger like you owed it baskets if yovo fruit.”

Tsireya started laughing as she spoke, “I thought you cut your hand on coral!”

You cover your mouth and smile giggling softly at the story and Neteyam tighten his arm around you. The other now leaning against the counter in front of you both.

Kiri laughing at him too, “nope. Turtle bite. He screamed like Tuk does when we eat any of her fruits.” Lo’ak pointing to the finger that had gotten bit, “it crunched! I heard a crunch!” He tried to justify his scream. Neteyam laughed, “and then you ran out of the water yelling for mom saying, ‘it wants me soul!’”

Tsireya was wheezing at this point, she couldn’t even catch her breath and Lo’ak looked at her like she personally offended him. While she tried to hug him back into her good graces while trying to stop laughing but she was clearly struggling. It made you smile how sweet they were together clearly, they loved each other, you could see it even thought you had just met them.

The room pulsed with fading laughter, still echoing softly through the chine like the tail end of a good song. Tsireya was curled on Lo’ak’s lap now still removing from the hysteria with tears in her eyes as she clutched into him. Kiri was sitting in the chair next to him, mumbling something about her ribs hurting from laughing too hard, and even Neteyam wore a real, unburdened smile as he looked around at him siblings— alive, all together.

None of them really paid attention to their parents that were still standing there until the laugher settled. Jake and Neytiri hadn’t come more into the cabin but stood by the door leading outside, they were quiet. They didn’t want to interrupt the moment.

Jake stood with his arms crossed, not tensely but almost thoughtfully, and Neytiri stood with her hands clasped in front of her, watching her children with a soft, distant smile. There was a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there for weeks.

Neytiri reached for Jake and squeezed his arm gently. His thumb brushed over her knuckled as she nudged him to speak. “We’d like to speak with her.” He said voice was firm but not mean, he said as looking directly at you, “alone.” Neytiri continued for him. Her voice was more impatient as if she didn’t want to do this in the first place.

Neteyam’s smile faded just slights, replaced by a quiet protectiveness. He drew you closer against his side, instinctively, “why?”

“We just want to talk,” his mother said, her voice was again impatient, not she held no animosity for her son. Her eyes looked back at you. “You. Come. We speak now.”

“She did not keep me here mother—” he started to defend you immediately, but you stopped him. “Neteyam” you said his name softly as if to say calm down. He looked down at you his jaw was clenched slightly.

“It is alright. I will be fine.” You reassure him.

Still, he hesitated, eyes lingering in yours, “if you need me—”

“I will call.” You said in the same tone.

Jake and Neytiri stepped back outside and waited for you to joined them. A few seconds later you walked out and shut the door behind you.

“We were gonna talk to you tomorrow, but we decided to do it now.” Jake said to you.

“I figured.” You nod and wave your hand.

Neytiri’s eyes burned into you, “you’re RDA. Why are you here?”

You swallow by met her gazed. “I was apart of the RDA. I’m not anymore. I worked with them for the past three years, now I live here.” You confirm her words.

“Then why stay?” Jake asked.

“I didn’t.” You look towards them, the back to the cabin. “I didn’t stay. I was on the ship when it sunk. I could have gone back. Or turned in Neteyam when I found him. But I didn’t. I didn’t want any part of it anymore.”

“And why? Why did you not want to be apart of then? What changed?” Neytiri’s voice clipped, it was sharp and untrusting.

“When Quaritch commandeered the ship to come in search for you. That had nothing to do with me. I didn’t know anything about your life after the whole, betrayed humankind battle 20 years ago.” You look at jake. “My job wasn’t to hunt some family across the moon. I left because to find you they killed that tulkun. The mother and baby. And left it there like it meant nothing just to bait you. I might be human, but I still have a conscience, I still have a heart. After that I saw my opportunity and took it. They think I’m dead somewhere in the ocean and they can’t come look for me because they don’t know about the cabin.”

“Why did you bring him here? Why did you not bring him home? To his family?” She hissed at you.

“He couldn’t even walk the first couple weeks let alone travel. And there was no way I was coming to a clan I know I’m unwelcome in to die while I drop him off. So, he healed and and went back on his own. Which by the way? What on pandora was that? He healed impressively fast. Gunshot wound to the chest, and he was walking in the next few days?” You whisper the last sentence to them as if it was a secret.

Neytiri’s mouth was tightened, her arms still crossed, unmoving. But Jake, he studied more closely now. Clearly, they weren’t in the joking mood.

“What is it did you want to hear? That seeing his dying and saving him gave my life purpose again? I didn’t need him to die for that I had a job before. I saved him because I… I couldn’t watch someone who ran away from war die at the hands of the people he was running from. I had no problem leaving everyone else dying there because I am no stranger to death and destruction. Those things, they don’t tug on my heart string, they don’t hurt me. But isn’t that the whole reason you uprooted your whole life? Everything you’ve know. To keep your children safe? That. I can understand. It wasn’t fair he died after all that.”

Neytiri’s voice cracked through the night like a snapped bowstring. “You expect me to believe you cared for him out of kindness?”

“I didn’t expect to care about it at all. And I certainly didn’t care about him at first. I’m sure you understand that part? You don’t choose who you fall in love with. Then all of a sudden, he was so… comfortable, and we clicked and I…wanted him to stay, I didn’t even want him to go back. But what kind of person would I be if I kept him from the family I knew he missed so much?”

There was silence. Long, tense. Jake looked around at his surroundings sighing. Neytiri’s expression was unreadable, something between suspicion and something softer. Less certain.

Then a soft breeze swept past. You blinked and looked up as something brushed your temple. Floating near your face was a soft, glowing atokirina. Then another. Then a dozen.

Jake’s mouth fell slightly open and Neytiri took an unconscious step forward. They drifted around you in a slow spiral, landing gently on your shoulders, arms, and hair like glowing petals.

Your reaction?

You let out a loud, high-pitched scream and drop to your knees and cover your head before yelling. “What the fuck is—since when was flying jellyfish a thing?!” You panicked, trying to swat one away. And just like that— CRASH!

Neteyam burst through the cabin door at full sprint, tripped slightly, but caught himself mid-stumble and yelled, “Don’t! Babe, those are NOT bugs! They’re like, sacred sky dandruff!”

You froze mid-swat, staring at him in confusion. His arms picked you up off the floor and he stood behind you as you backed away, but he kept you in place.

“They’re what?!” you whispered.

“They’re called atokirina,” he corrected himself, brushing glowing seeds off your shoulders gently. “They’re sacred. You don’t smack sacred things.”

“I thought they were trying to crawl into my ears or something.”

Behind you, the cabin window creaked open.

“She was about to karate-chop Eywa’s messengers!” Kiri whisper yelled.

Lo’ak’s head popped out next to hers. “She screamed like they were attacking her!”

Tsireya gasped, half-laughing. “This is the first time I’ve seen them like this… they’re beautiful.

More and more of the glowing seeds gathered around you, making the night shimmer. Neteyam stood beside you proudly, eyes soft. You glanced at him, bewildered.

“They mean something?” you asked.

Neteyam spoke slowly. “They don’t come unless Eywa wills it. Eywa sees what I see in you.”

You looked down at your open hands, where a few had landed gently in your palms.

Behind Jake and Neytiri, were reminiscing, they had almost forgot what it felt like the night they first met, now they see that love in the eyes of their son. Neytiri’s hand slid up to Jake’s chest feeling his heartbeat as she looked towards you too. Jake with his eyes still in the scene wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple, as if to say he’ll never forgot how it felt for them.

The kids were now looking through the door Neteyam had burst out of like nosy villagers, whispering and elbowing each other.

“She’s totally chosen,” Kiri whispered.

“She better be, after all that delusional psycho drama,” Lo’ak muttered.

Tsireya laughed so hard she nearly fell over.

Jake rubbed his temples and exhaled a long breath, glancing back at them. “You all good back there?”

Lo’ak shrugged. “Just witnessing divine intervention, no big deal.”

Jake looked at the sky, muttered, “I survived war on two planets, the RDA, and parenting four semi-feral children… and this is what breaks me.”

Neteyam, arms now wrapped lightly around your waist, deadpanned, “He’s being dramatic. You should’ve seen him when Tuk cut her own hair with a fishbone.”

Kiri cackled from the doorway. “Eywa wept that day.”

Even Neytiri snorted softly trying to hide it but failing. She looked at you again, and though she still didn’t fully trust you, something in her gaze had changed.

Maybe it was acceptance, or recognition.

The last of the atokirina drifted off into the night sky, their glow fading into the stars. You stared after them a moment longer, still stunned, until Neteyam gave your hand a gentle tug.

“Come on, everyone’s going inside now,” he said with a soft smile.

You glanced back at the cabin, where the sounds of shuffling, laughter, and Lo’ak’s dramatic commentary floated out the open door. Inside, the cozy space had been completely transformed. Mattresses and woven blankets covered the floor, layered for comfort. Neteyam had clearly raided the upstairs earlier, pillows were stacked high, and blankets spilled from the couch like a soft tide.

“What’s all this?” You asked Neteyam softly.

“Lo’ak wants to sleep next to me, he slept next to me every night since I got back and I figured since you have to get used to sleeping like this with us anyways, it’d be nice.”

You smile at his softy words and walked further into the room. Neytiri and Jake laid together on one mattress and the children laid on the other. You walked to the kitchen while Neteyam laid down with Lo’ak to tidy up and turn the lights off.

You were at the kitchen counter rinsing the last dish, working by the low light, when you heard soft footsteps behind you.

“You’re still up,” Kiri said gently, her voice not startling you this time.

You turned, a little sheepish. “Just finishing up.” You gave a small, nervous smile. “I needed something to do with my hands.”

Kiri nodded, understanding without needing more explanation. “It’s been… a day.”

You chuckled. “That’s one way to put it.”

A pause. Then she added, “You know… I’m really glad he came back.”

You smile and nod hearing her statement, you couldn’t imagine why they must have gone through for the month he wasn’t there.

She nodded. “We lost him that day. I mean—we lost him. Not just his body. He was always the one who kept things together. Even when things were bad, he held all of us in one piece. When we thought he was gone… we all sort of cracked.”

Your chest ached hearing it.

“I didn’t know how to feel when he said you were the one who saved him,” Kiri admitted. “Part of me was scared. We’ve all been raised to think ‘RDA’ and immediately brace for danger.” She shrugged. “But seeing him today? With you?”

She smiled now. Soft and honest. “He looked like Neteyam again.”

You looked down, unsure what to say. Kiri walked over and leaned her elbows on the counter beside you.

“He wants to take you back to the clan tomorrow, I think it’s a good idea,” she said, “you should go.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She nudged your arm gently. “Look, it won’t be easy. There might be stares. Whispers. My mom’s probably going to have a quiet panic attack every ten minutes. But you belong with him. And he belongs with us. So, we all have to figure it out together.”

You took a slow breath, something easing in your chest.

“I’m not saying everyone will accept you right away. But you’ll have us. You’ll have me. Lo’ak. Tuk’s probably going to ask you a hundred questions and try to braid your hair. And if anyone talks nonsense,” she smirked, “we’ll throw fruit at them.”

You laughed, suddenly emotional. “Thank you.”

Kiri smiled and stood upright again. “Also, you’re definitely going to need a better introduction outfit than this.” She gestures to your outfit.

Just then, Lo’ak groaned from the living room, “Kiri, I swear if you don’t stop recruiting people into your fashion cult—”

“Go to sleep!” Kiri snapped playfully.

You heard muffled laughter. And for a moment, everything felt… lighter. “I don’t have any na’vi clothes.”

Kiri turned back to you one last time. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow. Try to rest, okay? You are family now, or… you will be soon.”

With that, she slipped back into the living room, leaving you standing there blinking fast, hand pressed over your heart. Neteyam’s family was wild. Complicated. Sometimes intense. But maybe, just maybe… they were going to be yours too.

The cabin was quiet, safe from soft snores coming from the living room. You had taken the lights off and moved to the living room. The moonlight casted a soft glow in the room, you saw Neteyam’s parents sleeping off to the side close together under a blanket. Kiri’s sleeping form facing Tsireya who’s tail was intertwined with Lo’ak’s as they slept back-to-back. And Neteyam, his body faced away from you since Lo’ak was against his back.

You walk around making sure not to wake anyone and he was still awake. Waiting for you.

His fingers brushed the blanket back for you to get in next to him. Neteyam’s fingers covered you before resting in your hip, then it moved under your t-shirt to the skin on your waist. You did t way anything as you both laid there but he broke the silence.

“I kept dreaming of this,” he whispered, voice low, deep and velvet-soft in the dark. “Of you. Just being with you.”

You brush your fingers up his arms, and he sighed at the touch, “you didn’t need to dream,” you matched his tone. “You had me.”

He gave a quiet, bitter laugh. “Not that way I needed.”

Your fingers slipped on his skin up to his shoulder and down to his collarbone. “And now?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just pulled you closer, “come closer.” As you scooted his arm wrapped around your body under your shirt, splaying in your back, his forehead rested against yours. You could feel the warmth of his body, the tension he held trying to stay still. Controlled.

“Now,” he whispered, “I don’t know how I went so long without it.”

His hand slid up your back, playing with the hook on your bra as he pulled you flush against him. Your thighs tangled. You pressed your nose to his neck, breathing in the scent of salt and earth and him.

“I missed you more than I could have imagined,” you admitted, the words fragile against his skin. “Even when I didn’t know why.”

He tilted your chin up gently. “You knew. Somewhere. I think we both did.”

For a long moment, you just looked at each other, foreheads touching, eyes open. Then he kissed you, not urgently, not desperately. Just softly. Reverently. Like he was still remembering the shape of your mouth.

When he pulled back, his lips hovered over yours.

“I didn’t know peace until you,” he breathed. You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

Your hand slid over his stomach, his ribs, settling against the place where his heart beat slow and steady. He pressed a kiss to your temple. Another to your shoulder. Then he held you, legs tangled under the blanket, bodies curved together like they’d never fit any other way.

“I kept thinking I made you up,” he whispered. “Every time I closed my eyes, it was you. Your voice, your hands… I’d reach for you in dreams and wake up with nothing.”

You said nothing, just leaned in until your lips found his, a kiss slow and reverent, like you were trying to breathe each other in. His hand slid to your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he deepened it, but kept the pace tender. There was longing in it, but also relief. Familiarity. Warmth.

You shifted closer, your chest to his now, one leg slipping between his as you held his face and kissed him again. Your lips moved with unspoken things. But everything that was just as heavy and real.

Then—

“Mmmf.” A low sound, followed by a thump against Neteyam’s back. Lo’ak through his arm over Neteyam, since you were so close it him his fingers landed in your hip under Neteyam’s arm.

You both stilled.

His forehead was pressed between Neteyam’s shoulder blades, clearly fast asleep, mouth parted in the most obnoxiously innocent way.

You pulled back slightly. Neteyam’s eyes fluttered shut for a beat.

“…Is his head still on you?” you murmured.

“Yes,” Neteyam whispered, exasperating. “Yes, it is.”

From the other side of the room, Kiri’s muffled voice: “That’s what he gets for insisting on sleeping next to you like a baby yerik.”

Neteyam groaned quietly. “He said it was ‘for safety.’”

Lo’ak stirred again, snuggling deeper against his brother’s back like a clingy cat. “’S warm,” he mumbled half-coherently.

You snorted softly into Neteyam’s chest. “This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Oh yes,” he deadpanned. “Nothing says passion like your brother spooning you mid-kiss.”

Neteyam pressed a kiss to your forehead, gentle and lingering. “Next time,” he whispered against your skin, “we wait until he’s not glued to my spine.”

“Next time?” you teased.

His voice was a low hum in your ear. “There’ll be a next time.”

And despite the absurdity of the moment, the extra limbs tangled nearby, the fact that Lo’ak was drooling slightly on Neteyam’s back, it felt impossibly warm. Sweet. Real.

You nestled into him, smiling as your eyes slipped closed. Sleep found you both easily being in each other’s arms again.

The pale morning light spilled across the cabin, thin and golden. Outside the forest hummed softly, not loud, not demanding, just present and awake. Birds stirred in the trees and the distant ocean whispered.

Neytiri was already awake with Jake, they stood near the door. Her arms were folded around her as her eyes watched her children tangled up like pups sleeping peacefully. Jake’s arms were loosely at his side, tail flicking once or twice.

“I forgot how loud they are when they all sleep together sometimes.” He said quietly. “They are peaceful like this,” Neytiri replied, though her tone had a thread if impatience under it. She was ready to leave.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. No one wants to get up when they feel peaceful.” Jake chuckled

Neytiri smiled and turned to the cluster of limbs in the floor. Her voice was firm but low. “Wake up, we move now.”

Groans and murmured protests rose from the pile. Lo’ak rolled over with his head will against Neteyam’s back, “five more minutes please sa’nu.”

“No.”

Lo’ak groaned again and Neteyam stirred, “alright, alright, we are up.” Kiri say up with a yawn, hair a frizzed halo around her face, tsireya was already up smoothing out her hair for the trip even though she knew it’d get messy again.

Meanwhile you slowly blinked, waking up, still curled against Neteyam’s warmth. He leaned down and brushed his nose against your temple. “Good morning sevin.” He murmured softly. You didn’t respond with words only a soft hum due to tiredness.

Before you could even wake up properly the house was cleaned out off all the food that could go bad, they were talking it all to the clan. The house was tidy and locked up and everyone was outside securing last minute things into the ikran to leave.

The last of the stuff had been loaded, the sound noises the ikran made behind you always drowned out as you looked at your house. So much memories lives here, healing, laughter, tension, tenderness. Neteyam stepped behind you, quiet. His arms wrapped around your shoulders.

“I never thought I’d miss this place.” He said with a low voice.

You smile leaning back against him, “you were barely conscious for half of it.” You exaggerate.

Neteyam chuckled softly and murmured, “still.” Looking at the cabin, the smooth, sand worn edges of the roof, the worn path you both walked a hundred times to get in a out of the door, the small wind chimes you’d hung from the porch beam. “It gave me peace. Gave us time.”

You hooded. The weight of it sat quietly between you, not heavy, just meaningful. “This door was the first thing I ever saw when I realized I wasn’t dead,” he added. “And you sat there in front of me with those pretty wide eyes.”

You laughed softly, lifting your head to look at him, “you had a knife.”

“And you looked like you’d still in the fight.” He said, amused, his thumb tracing patterned on your arm. “I think I fell for you right there and didn’t even realize it.”

You smile at him, his expression was unguarded, eyes steady, “and now we’re gonna make a life together, because Eywa wills it for us to be one. I will not let anything stand in the way of that.” His voice was so gentle.

“Neither will I.” You agree softly. He kissed the side of your head softly. “Come on, let’s go before Lo’ak coming looking for me like a lost child.”

“Too late!” Lo’ak shouted from the distance. Neteyam let out a groan but tugged you along to your ikran where you mounted and took flight, looking at at your house in the distance as you felt the wind in your air. You couldn’t deny a part of you was scared about what might happen. But you were sure Neteyam was not leaving you again and because of that you’ll be okay.

The salt wind whipped past your face as the ocean village finally came into view — distant, quiet, and glowing with early light. The Metkayina home was beautiful, like it had risen straight out of the sea itself — smooth marui pods clustered over the water, connected by long, arching walkways of woven roots and wood. The turquoise lagoon sparkled below.

You hadn’t realized you’d slowed your descent until Neteyam’s ikran coasted close beside you.

He looked at you with a knowing smile. “You okay?” He remembers the first time he saw the village, it was nothing compared to the forest, but it was undoubtedly beautiful.

You gave a small nod, not trusting your voice. He held your gaze for a breath longer, then angled his ikran downward. You followed.

As the Sully family landed on the beach, villagers began to stir, eyes turned, murmurs rippled across the sand like soft wind through leaves.

Neteyam had returned here days ago, his presence wasn’t a shock.

But yours was.

You dismounted quietly, already feeling the weight of their stares. You were the outsider. The unknown.

Tsireya, who had flown in with Lo’ak, landed shortly after. She stepped off her ikran and hesitated for half a second as she spotted you. Then, quickly composed, she walked toward her parents.

Tonowari and Ronal were already emerging from their marui, drawn by the sudden arrival. Ronal’s expression was unreadable as her eyes swept over the familiar faces… and landed on yours.

She stopped walking.

Tonowari followed her gaze. His brow furrowed, not in hostility, but in question.

Lo’ak stepped forward first, ever the bridge when things got uncomfortable. “Hey, um… this is—” Neteyam cut in. “She’s with me.”

His voice was calm. Certain. Jake gave him a brief, supportive nod.

Tonowari approached, his voice deep but even. “You bring someone new.”

“I do,” Neteyam said. “She helped me. When I was hurt. She brought me back.”

Ronal stepped forward, her tone sharper. “And now she comes to stay?”

You opened your mouth to speak but found yourself hesitating under her stare. Then Neteyam stepped closer, just enough to be between you and Ronal, his presence a quiet barrier.

“She’s not here to cause trouble,” he said. “She’s just… here with me.”

“She is not of the reef,” Ronal said, folding her arms.

“She is of me,” Neteyam replied quietly. That made Ronal pause. Her eyes flicked to Tonowari.

Tonowari looked at you, then back to Neteyam. “We will talk. Come.”

Jake and Neytiri stayed close to you even though they weren’t fully in board with their son’s decision to bring you back. You were grateful for it.

And just as Tonowari and Ronal turned to lead you toward their marui, you caught a glimpse of the crowd again. Some looked confused. Others curious.

But no one said a word.

The water shimmered behind you as you followed Neteyam into the unknown, his hand brushing yours just once, just enough to let you know you weren’t alone.

Tonowari stood firm, arms crossed, but it was Ronal who moved first. She stepped down from the woven platform with deliberate grace, her eyes locked on you. Her presence was powerful, regal, commanding, and the air shifted with the weight of her expectations.

She said something sharp in Na’vi, and though you didn’t understand the words, you felt the judgment in her tone. Her hand tugged on your tail making you gasp from the slight pain it caused, and your head whipped to look at her Neteyam moved slightly closer, protective, but Ronal raised a hand and placed it firmly on his chest, stopping him.

“No,” she said coolly in English, pushing him gently but firmly backward. “Let her stand.”

Neteyam frowned, reluctant, but obeyed, stepping back beside his parents. Ronal began to slowly circle you, her gaze scanning you from head to toe. She didn’t hide the suspicion on her face, her lips tight, her brow furrowed. The silence was heavy. You were alone in the center of the platform, under the full gaze of the clan leaders and the Sullys.

Tsireya stood to the side next to a taller man you weren’t sure who it was, but he had the same expression as Tonowari. Lo’ak and Kiri stood behind Neteyam on one side of you and Jake and Neytiri stood behind you in line with him on the other.

“She is of the Sky People,” Ronal said finally, addressing the group. “And now she walks into our home… with no test? No proof of strength? Of loyalty?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Ronal kept circling, like a large ilu measuring the movement of unfamiliar waters.

“She could bring them here. The demons who hunted you,” she said, her voice cutting through the early morning calm. “We remember the fire they brought. The blood.”

“I would never—” you tried, but she cut you off.

“You say this now. But when they come with machines and death, what will you do? Will you run? Will you call to them? Will they follow you like shadows?”

Neteyam stepped forward again, voice sharp. “She fought for me. She saved me.”

Ronal turned on him. “That is love. Not strength.”

Jake moved beside his son. “She survived alone out there, Ronal. Tended to my son’s wounds. She kept him alive when we thought he was gone.”

“She kept your son alive,” Ronal snapped back. “That does not mean she will keep ours.”

Neytiri stepped forward now, her voice low and serious. “We did not ask that you accept her without question. But you know us. You know what we have done for this clan. For you. Let her prove she is not a useless sky person.”

Tonowari finally spoke, calm but firm. “Then she will.”

You looked at him, heart pounding.

“If you are to stay,” he continued, “you must learn. You must fight like we fight. You must protect this place, our people.”

You nodded slowly, swallowing the nerves rising in your throat.

“I will.”

Ronal studied you one last time, then looked to Tonowari. She didn’t nod in approval. She turned to face Tonowari again but lifted her chin slightly, her voice rising above the stillness in the marui pod.

“There is a gathering,” she said, switching back to English for your sake. “A trial of strength and instinct. A proving.” Tonowari’s expression grew contemplative.

Ronal stepped forward again, no longer circling, but standing directly in front of you, tall and unmoving like the ocean before a storm.

“It is a rite for young warriors,” she said. “A tradition. Each cycle, our youth face the sea — they race, they hunt, they fight. It is a test of skill, trust, and unity. Those who complete it with honor are celebrated. And those who take first are remembered.”

She paused, letting her gaze press hard into you. “If you wish to stay, you will enter.” Your breath caught. Ronal continued, voice unyielding.

“And you will not simply take part. You will win.”

“Win?” Neteyam asked, stepping forward again. “She’s not trained like—”

“She will,” Ronal said sharply, without looking at him. “Or she leaves.”

“She’s not one of your warriors,” Neytiri snapped.

“She wishes to live among them. That makes her one.”

Tonowari spoke now, his voice like a steady current beneath the waves. “It is fair. You have brought her here. If she is to be trusted with our lives, she must show us she can protect them.”

Ronal added quietly, “This is not cruelty. It is survival.”

Jake looked at you. He didn’t speak, but his eyes asked the question Ronal had posed with such certainty: Can you do this?

You glanced at Neteyam, his brow was tight with frustration, but his eyes were full of belief. Soft. Fierceness. You turned back to Ronal, throat dry but voice steady.

“Then I’ll win.”

The Sullys had just stepped into their family marui. The woven walls still smelled like sea air and sun-dried shells. It felt good to be home, even after just one night away.

Kiri dropped her things by the corner hammock, stretching. “I still think Ronal wanted to fight someone.”

Lo’ak flopped belly-first onto a mat. “She always looks like that.”

Jake gave a low grunt of agreement, rubbing at his temples. Neytiri paced silently, checking on their belongings, scanning the marui like she was mentally preparing for the next war.

You and Neteyam had just stepped him, you took a second to look around the space, it was decorated with small stuff that made the mauri a home and not just a place to eat and sleep. It looks beautiful. Before anymore words could be exchanged, a high-pitched loud voice came from behind you.

Everyone turned and a small girl about seven maybe eight years old came stomping towards the mauri, Tsireya walking closely behind her with a grin like she knew what was about to happen.

“HEY!” she screamed. Her little body almost bumped into yours, if you didn’t move to the side and circle her, now standing behind her, Tsireya came to stand next to you.

“Oh no” Loak mumbled as he watched his sister angrily stomp to the middle of the mauri. “Here we go” Jake said softly at the same time.

“You all LEFT me.” Tuk started. Hands on her hips and chest puffed out, scanning every guilty face one by one. “All of you just left! Like I wouldn’t notice!”

“Babygirl—” Jake started but she quickly cut him off. “No! No, don’t babygirl me!” She cried, pointing at her dad like a disappointed elder. “You’re my daddy! Yours supposed to take me everywhere!”

Lo’ak snorted, “It wasn’t planned. It just happened and we couldn’t come get you.”

“Oh. It just happened. Like a surprise party? But I was the only one not invited.” She shouted and you cover your mouth to stop yourself from laughing, she reminded you of you when you were that age.

“We didn’t even bring any supplies—” Kiri added gently.

“SAVE IT.” Tuk shouted and raised her hand high up in the air. “While you all were off having an adventure! I was scraping barnacles off the underneath of a canoe! And doing important Tsahìk things!”

“You were safe, you had fun that’s what’s important” Neteyam smiled at his youngest sister. Her wrath turned to him now, “and you! You were my favorite! And you just left me! Didn’t even leave a note!”

“I was compromised, spear me.” Neteyam raised his hand, showing her his palm as a gesture to stop casually, as if that ever worked on Tuk.

“I heard she did very well and had lots of fun. Mother told me she was terrorizing Ao’nung until She fell asleep. Honestly, I’m impressed.” Her statement made Loak and Neteyam laugh thinking about the hell Ao’nung must have gone through.

As if Tuk clocked the unfamiliar face mid performance, she spun her little body around to face you. Her hand still on her hips as she looked at your suspiciously. “Who are you? Where did you come from?”

“I—” you stated feeling like she put you on the spot which you weren’t expecting. “I’m your brother’s….friend?” You say unsure your eyes dart up to Neteyam’s who immediately had an offended look on his face.

“My friend? You're my friend—” he started before Tim cut him off. “You like games?”

“Yea”

“Okay, you can stay.” She walked over to Lo’ak and dropped your little body over his lap and took the fruit her had and started to eat it while Neteyam continued. “After all that your my friend?”

“I— I mean yea, you never asked me to be your girlfriend.” Your statement made Jake laugh, it was such an earth thing for you to say. It immediately triggered memories of interactions with women he had when he was on earth all those years ago. Neteyam whipped his head to his father then back at you, “but I love you!”

“Which you told everyone but me.” Your smile and stress your words. Which made Neteyam sigh and shake his head. He knew how you felt about him and you knew how he felt. You both were in love and had openly admitted it. But not to each other. “What is so funny?” He glanced back to his dad.

“No- nothing. It’s just, on Earth you don’t court before mating. You date, you exclusive date by asking a woman to be your girlfriend. You assumed she was your girlfriend but she’s still single cause you didn’t ask.” Jake explained to Neteyam while chuckling softly. Neteyam’s eyes go back to you as if to confirm what he had just heard and when you nodded he sighed again.

He walked up to you and lead you out of the mauri leaving everyone behind who had started their own conversation by now. “Baby did you seriously think your not my girlfriend after all that?”

“No, I knew, I just wanted to hear you say it. I wanted to hear you ask me.” You smile up at him and run your hands up his arm.

“I love you, I love you so much. You’re the love of my life, I’m sure of it, and I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. Will you be my girlfriend.” His voice was gentle, sweet, calm and deep. Everything you wanted to hear.

You practically felt the heart eyes when you were looking at him speak to you like you were the most important girl in the world. “I love you too,” you whisper. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend” you smile widely at him with a small giggle bubbling up with your chest. Your body felt giddy, hearing him say it was so different than just knowing.

He smiled and leaned down to kiss you, luckily he had pulled you out of sight from the mauri so no one saw. Just a private moment in the clan you were determined to spend forever with him in. And you were sure it’d be the first of many.

His lips were soft you felt him deepen the kiss and you almost melted before he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

The day passed fairly easily. You didn’t leave the mauri all day, all you did was sit down and process everything that happened in the past couple days. You were beyond happy when neteyam came back for you, and you don’t regret anything, but you can’t help but feel a bit scared, overthinking everything you may have to do to stay with him.

Everyone was in a out of the Mauri all day, Lo’ak and Tsireya went out earlier and came back, then Tuk stating she needed everyone to make it up to her, Jake and Neytiri carried her to play on the beach, while we got to spend some time together and ask her all about her night with Ronal. Neteyam stayed with you most of the day, he sat with you and spoke to you, started to teach you some na’vi while you had the time and he fed you fruits. You told him you could do it yourself, but he insisted not wanting to ‘mess up your pretty little fingers’

He was amazing. Later in the evening Tsireya came back with a pile of clothes for you, since you had to change out of the human clothes you currently wore. She and Kiri both decided to help you get dressed and show you to how knot the clothes and how they were supposed to fit. It was like having sisters. While you three did that, Neteyam and Lo’ak went to meet up with Ao’nung and some friends.

“Okay, arms up,” Tsireya said, guiding a soft wrap of fabric around your chest. “This part’s the trickiest if you don’t want it slipping off in the middle of dinner.”

“She’s not joking,” Kiri chimed in, tightening the side ties at your waist. “One strong breeze and boom scandal.”

You laughed nervously. “That’s comforting.”

Kiri stood back and eyed you critically, then smirked. “Wow. Neteyam’s going to forget how to talk.” Tsireya gave you a teasing look. “Forget talking, he might forget how to blink.”

You blushed. “It’s not that serious.”

“No, it is,” Kiri said, tapping your arm. “You’ve got curves that don’t quit and legs like they were carved by Eywa herself.”

“And this color—” Tsireya gestured to the top, “—makes your skin glow. Honestly, it’s not fair.”

“Stop hyping me up. I’m gonna trip over my own feet.”

Kiri grinned. “Trip right into Neteyam’s arms.” Suddenly, the flap to the marui rustled open. Lo’ak’s voice: “Yo, we’re back!” The three of you went still.

“Hide me,” you whispered jokingly. Tsireya called out from behind the divider, “We’re decent-adjacent! Stay where you are!” Lo’ak laughed. “That’s not a thing.” Then came another voice, Aonung’s.

“Is she in there?” he asked. “New girl?”

“She’s real,” Kiri called. “And busy.”

“Who is that?” You whisper to them. “That is my brother, Aonung, he was in the mauri this morning with my parents, standing next to me.” Tsireya answered softly.

“Shame. Was hoping to see for myself.” That earned a sharp look from Neteyam, who stood beside him. “You don’t need to see anything.”

Aonung raised an eyebrow. “Relax, bro. I’m just saying, I’m trying to introduce myself properly.” Tsireya turned toward you with a slow, dramatic grin.

“He hasn’t even seen you yet and he’s already flirty,” she whispered. “You better brace yourself.” You took a breath. “Okay… let’s get this over with.” You stepped out from behind the divider and everything in the marui seemed to stop.

Aonung blinked, then let out a low whistle. “Well, you don’t look good. You look dangerous. I’m Ao’nung, Tsireya’s older brother. Neteyam is a lucky man.” He smirked.

Neteyam stepped in front of him almost instantly, not aggressive, but protective. His jaw was tight.

“That’s enough.”

Aonung held up his hands. “Just a compliment. Chill.” But Neteyam’s eyes were no longer on him. They were on you. And for a second, it was like no one else existed. He stepped closer, slowly, like he was afraid to break the moment.

“You…” His voice was quiet. “You look…”

He trailed off, eyes scanning your form, taking in the way the soft Na’vi fabrics hugged you, the way your skin caught the last light of the setting sun. You were radiant.

“…gorgeous,” he finished, almost in awe.

You smiled shyly. “You think?”

“I know,” he said. “You look like you’ve always belonged here.”

Behind him, Lo’ak leaned to Aonung. “Told you she’s the reason he’s been weird all day.” Kiri made gagging noises and Tsireya giggling.

But Neteyam ignored them. For the first time since returning to the clan, he was completely still, his whole world centered on you.

And you, glowing under his gaze, couldn’t help but feel like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

Tsireya started to usher everyone out despite any protest as Neteyam stepped closer to you. His hands can to your waist and trailed down to your exposed hips and back up. “You really think I look pretty?” You ask him softly.

“If sweetheart? You look incredible, you look like my girl.” He whispered then leaned in for a kiss. His lips were soft as he kissed you, deepening it when you kissed him back. Your arms wrap around his neck rubbing down to his arms them back up to his jaw with a soft hum.

He pushed you to walk back until you were once again behind the divider and up against the wall, and he didn’t stop. Only pushing himself up onto you, trapping you in the smallest space he could. Neteyam didn’t want to stop, he wanted to mark you up before he let you go outside like this. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to stare at you forever or take you away so no one could ever see you like this except him.

“Nete…” you moaned as he pulled his lips away and attacked your neck. “Hmm?” He replied as he started to suck on your skin.

“Your— your parents will be back soon we should—” you start with a giggle but ended in moans, but he cuts you off with a small shush.

“We have time.” He whispered against your skin. His hands came up to your well tied top and pushed it up, he didn’t even bother to untie it, he just wanted to expose you. His hands cupped your tits pushing you further into the wall and you couldn’t help but moan at his hands on you.

Neteyam squeezes your tits slightly bringing the nippy up to his mouth to kiss it before he sucks it into his mouth, he swirls his tongue on you and when he’s had enough, he moves onto the next. Your tail lashes the wall at you start to feel his movements send chills straight to your core. Your head lolls back and your mouth opens in a slightly scream.

Neteyam pulls away and looks at you, just for a moment but he stares, your expression, your panting, your messy hair. He owned it, owned you. And he loved it so much. He spins yours round and pushes your head against the wall, pulling your hips back so you were bent over nothing against it. Your hands moved up to the wall next to your head to hold you up as Neteyam pulled the little piece of cloth covering your cunt to the side.

His finger slid down your asshole to your other hold feeling the slick he already made you start leaking. With a smirk he chuckled and used his other hand to pull your ass cheeks apart, so he had a better view. “Fuck look at that, haven’t even done anything to you and your dripping baby.” He cursed softly in Na’vi as you sucked his finger in as he entered, he wasn’t sure he even needed to stretch you out to take him, but he wanted to.

Neteyam’s finger started to speed up before he added another one. Your tail thrashed in the air before it wrapped around his forearm. You tried to be quiet just in case, you really did but Neteyam just had a way of touching you like no one before, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning and hissing under his fingers. His fingers sped up some more, giving you some hard thrust right into your g-spot. You couldn’t even form words to tell him his good he was making you feel. Until he slowed down and pulled out giving your ass a sweet spank as he did.

Neteyam pushed down his tweng and exposed his hard cock that hit your ass when he bounced out. The same hand he had inside you he pumped his cock with, spreading the juices on his fingers over himself.

“Ready for me sevin?” He leaned down to your ear and whisper. His left hand spread you open before you had a chance to answer and the other held his cock as he pushed into your tight hole.

It had been months since either of you felt each other like this. Your eyes rolled and he gritted his teeth squeezing his eyes shut as he bottomed out. His hand moved from your ass to over your head against the wall so he could lean down closer to you and his other hand held your hips with a tight grip, as if to ground him.

Neteyam cursed into the air as he heard your sweet sounds and breaths from just feeling his cock enter you. His thrust started slow, getting a feel for something he missed so much. You felt his breath on your shoulder as he started to fuck the breath out of your lungs.

“Oh fuck...” you stutter out as he fucks you into the wall, moaning with your cheek pressed up against it. Neteyam lays small kisses on your shoulder like he’s not fucking your like it’s the last time he’ll ever get too. You had just started but your legs were already shaking holding yourself up.

“You’re mine,” he murmured into your ear, his words both a claim and an admission. The tightness surrounding him bringing him to the edge so quickly. His voice was hoarse, filled with possessive need.

“Mhmm I’m yours,” you stutter back to him. Neteyam growls softly at your words, his possessive grip on you growing tighter. “Say it again.” He commanded, his voice rough with desire. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours tey-teyam.” You moan out. His response was a low, primal growl that reverberated through his chest. Hearing those words come from your lips drove him wild, igniting the most possessive instincts within him. “Damn right you are baby,” he growled, his hands gripping tighter you were sure you’d have marks when he was done.

His thrust speeds up, his body becoming more and more consumed with you. He continued to speak with a low, gravelly whisper in your ear. “You’re all mine,” he repeated, his words wit h devotion. “Every inch of you, every part. Mine to touch, mine to claim, mine forever.”

You let out a heavy, loud moan as the air was forced out of you. You really did love hearing his voice in your ear, especially like this. Neteyam watched your eyes roll back, a surge of satisfaction coursing through him at the effect he was having on you. His touch was drowning, and his grip was tight and commanding. As he continued to fuck you, wanting to bring you over the edge and beyond, “can you feel it?” He growled; his voice was thick with desire. “The way your body responds to me, the way your arch so fucking perfectly into me. It’s because your mine. Mine to take, mine to keep baby.”

His thrust becomes harder, your fingers turning white from the force you were pushing against the wall to push your ass back into him. “Mhmmmm” you moan as you bit your lip.

Neteyam’s grip on you tightens as you begin to press back against him, his own hips thrusting forward to meet yours with growing intensity. His breathing grew heavier, his body consumed by primal need to claim you, to make you his in every sense of the word. “You asking for more sweetness?” His asked, voice a hoarse whisper.

He didn’t wait for you to answer before he continued, “because I’ll give you all the more you can handle and then some.” His forehead hit your shoulder, “I’ll take you so hard and deep, you’ll forget your own name. You’ll only remember who you belong to.”

You nod eagerly and giggle out with a smile, “yes pleaseee”

He responded with a deep possessive growl as you nodded. The way you said ‘yes please’ sent shivers down his spine straight to the tip of his tail and the bottom of his toes. “That’s my good fucking girl.” He says through gritted teeth. “You want more, do you baby?”

You again eagerly nodded with a “yes, yes please.” His desire was growing stronger with every word. He could feel your eagerness, your submission, and it only fueled his primal need to take you completely. His hand that rested on the wall he put on the side of your head pressing you in more. He raised his body off yours a bit but not so far, he couldn’t see your face. “Yea take it baby, take it all.” He starts to meet your thrust, pounding you harder. The sound of skin slapping surely filled the room. You were suddenly grateful Tsireya had taken everyone out.

“Oh, fuck yessss—I’m gonna cummmm.” Your voice raised a pitch as you screamed out loudly. Neteyam’s breath hitched as he heard your words, his own release growing closer as he felt you trembling with pleasure. He knew you were close, and he was determined to push you over the edge. “That’s it,” he growled, his voice a low and possessive rumble. “Come for me, darling. Let me see you fall apart.”

His words send you over the edge and I make a mess cumming in his cock. Neteyam’s grip tightened as you came, his body pressing harder against yours as he held you close. He could feel your pleasure, your convulsions, the way you trembled with intensity. A primal sense of satisfaction washed over him as he held you. It didn’t take him long to join you in the aftermath bliss. He didn’t even ask before he pumped you full of his cum whispering to you about how good you took him, not that you minded him coming in you. It felt so good, “that’s it, he murmured. “My perfect, perfect girl.”

Neteyam pulls his cock out and fixes your clothes to keep his cum snug inside your hole as he straightens up. He pulls you up and turns you around smoothening out your hair as you lean against the wall holding onto him for support before he fixes your top ensuring it fits properly before he takes you back into the main space of the mauri and sits down on a cushion against the wall pulling you flush to his chest in front of him as he kisses you softly anywhere he could reach and hugs you.

You both get comfortable just in time for everyone to file back into the marui. You sat with your back resting against Neteyam’s chest by the fire pit, his arms gently wrapped around your waist. You held a cup of water in your hands, still trying to shake the post-high haze of what just happened. His chin was on your shoulder, and his nose occasionally nuzzled your neck like he couldn’t help himself. You were both quiet, but your shared grin said everything.

The flap of the marui rustled. Neytiri stepped in first with Jake right behind, Tuk skipping in excitedly ahead of them, holding some kind of half-wet seaweed braid and some shells. “Mom! Look, this one looks like a heart!” Tuk beamed, swishing it proudly behind her.

Neytiri gave a small hum of approval, “it’s very pretty Tuk,” ruffling her daughter’s hair. Jake, however, squinted slightly, eyes trailing to the two of you on the far side of the marui. One eyebrow rose. The corner of his mouth twitched.

Neteyam didn’t move. Then the flap opened again.

Lo’ak, Kiri, Tsireya, and Aonung filed in with the kind of timing that screamed suspicious. All four of them were way too calm, like they’d rehearsed this.

Lo’ak faked a big stretch. “Whew. Anyone else feel the ground shaking earlier? Thought we had another underwater tremor.”

Kiri gave a mock-serious nod. “Yeah, something was definitely rumbling. Almost rhythmic.”

Tsireya giggled behind her hand. “Very… passionate tectonic activity.”

Aonung raised a brow. “Might want to get the structure checked. Sounded like someone was, you know, testing the foundations.”

You froze mid-sip. Neteyam still didn’t flinch, just kissed your cheek with a smug little smirk.

Lo’ak plopped down by the fire, glancing over. “Wow, bro, you’re glowing. Must’ve been an intense conversation you two were having.”

Kiri threw in innocently, “Lots of… vocal articulation. So expressive.”

Aonung chuckled. “Heard some spiritual bonding going on.”

You turned slowly, your eyes wide with dawning horror.

Neteyam blinked. “Are you guys done?”

“Just warming up,” Lo’ak grinned.

Jake cleared his throat, cutting in smoothly. “I assume whatever this is… doesn’t need to be explained in front of Tuk.”

Lo’ak threw up his hands. “Of course not! We’re just talking about… architecture.”

“Sound design,” Tsireya added.

Jake gave Neteyam one last look. “Just don’t break the walls.”

Neteyam, utterly unbothered, smirked and pulled you a little closer. “They’re still standing, aren’t they?”

You slapped his thigh gently with the back of your hand. “Don’t encourage them.”

He leaned in, voice low in your ear. “Why? I’m proud.”

You groaned, but you were smiling too, unable to fight the laughter bubbling under your breath.

From across the fire, Kiri whispered to Lo’ak, “We’re never letting them live this down.”

The soft crackling of the fire pit filled the marui with a warm, comforting hum. The glow danced across everyone’s faces as the group settled in around the circle. You were leaning against the wall, nestled between Neteyam’s legs, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, his chin resting against your shoulder. His body radiated a calm strength, grounding you, even as your nerves ticked with questions. Everyone settled into a loose circle around the fire and ate engaging in conversation together.

You took a sip of water, then looked around the fire. “So… about this competition,” you started, voice low but clear. “Ronal said I have to win it. But no one’s actually told me what it is.”

Tsireya smiled kindly. “That’s because no one ever really knows. It changes every year.”

“It’s three trials,” Aonung added. “Spread over three days. Each one more brutal than the last.”

You raised a brow. “Brutal?”

“Each trial pushes different things,” Kiri chimed in. “Strength, spirit, endurance, intelligence, survival instincts…”

“Fear,” Neteyam said softly, his breath brushing your neck. “They like to test that, too.”

Your fingers tightened a little around your cup. “Alright, then what did you do?”

Neteyam’s voice dropped a little, quiet just for you. “First day, they dropped me blindfolded in the middle of nowhere. I had to navigate back to shore through reef spikes and currents. Couldn’t see anything. Had to feel the pull of the ocean.”

You turned your head slightly, startled. “That’s insane.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “Second day, they had me scale the Mistwall cliffs during a wind surge to retrieve a warrior’s band. The vines were slick, brittle. No rope. If I fell, I’d land in razor coral.”

Lo’ak leaned forward dramatically. “He almost fell.”

Neteyam just smirked and continued, “Third day, I was sent into a flooded cave system at night. No torch. No map. The tide rose halfway through. If you didn’t find the exit before the moon reached the peak, you drowned.”

You stared. “Okay, that’s actually insane.”

“But he won,” Tsireya said softly, admiration clear in her tone.

Lo’ak grinned. “Mine was more fun. First day, open ocean sprint on a skimwing, had to ride it into a ring of rock pillars during a lightning storm.”

You blinked. “What happens if you fall?”

“You don’t fall,” he said smugly. “Or you get struck or drown.”

“Second day,” Lo’ak continued, “I had to out swim a tidal wave through the Veiled Caverns. The currents change every minute. If you miscalculate… you’re done.”

“And the third?” you asked, a little hesitantly.

“They drenched me in a type of blood scent that attract predators and dropped me into the mangrove,” he said, popping a bite of food in his mouth. “We had to avoid the predators until the sunrise.

You gave a horrified laugh. “Who designs these?!”

“Elders,” Aonung said flatly but then continued, “our clan has been doing these trails since the time of the first songs. It keeps the clan warriors humble but also trained, in case anything was to happen, they can handle defending the clan.”

You looked at him. “And yours?”

He leaned back with a shrug. “First day, swim relay with weighted net packs around the reef ring. You either make it before your air runs out or you don’t.”

“Second day?” you asked.

“Hand-to-hand combat, but blindfolded. You only pass if you pin your opponent without hurting them. Took me four tries.”

“Third?” Aonung smiled crookedly. “You ever climb an oil-slicked smooth tree in the rain 70 feet high with a flare that can’t go out or explode?”

You just stared at him. “I did,” he added. “And I won.”

Tsireya rested her chin in her hand. “If you don’t finish your task, you can’t retake it. You wait a whole year to try again.”

“That’s… insane,” you murmured again.

Neteyam gently rested his forehead against your shoulder, voice low so only you heard. “You won’t have to wait.”

You tilted your head back against him slightly. “You sound sure.”

“I am,” he murmured. “I’m sure you survive worse.”

A thoughtful silence settled over the group as the fire crackled softly between you. You sat with your back against Neteyam’s chest, his arms loosely wrapped around you, your cup of water resting between your palms. The stories of their trials still lingered in your head, images of rising tides, blindfolded climbs, and sprinting through reef forests with a blade in hand. It was overwhelming.

“When do the trials begin?” you finally asked, voice quiet.

“Two weeks from now,” Tsireya answered gently. “They always wait for the tides to shift and the moon to rise full. That’s when the clan gathers and watches.”

You blinked. “Two weeks?” Whipping my head to look at her

“That’s more than enough time to turn you into a beast,” Lo’ak grinned, reaching for another piece of fruit. “If you don’t mind bleeding a little.”

You gave him a look. “I’m already bleeding a little.” Aonung chuckled. “Then you’ll fit right in.”

Kiri sat cross-legged across the circle, picking at a shellfish. “They always give time for prep—physical, spiritual, mental. You’ll need it. The trials are different every year, but they all test core strengths. You have to be ready for anything.”

“I want to be,” you said. “I want to win.”

“You will,” Neteyam said quietly behind you. “Because you have all of us.”

He kissed your shoulder softly, voice steady in your ear. “We’re going to train you every day. From the moment the sun rises until your body tells you to quit. And even then, we’ll keep going.” You looked around the fire at the faces watching you, some grinning, some serious, but all of them with the same unwavering loyalty.

“We’ve all been through it,” Aonung said, gesturing between himself, Lo’ak, and Neteyam. “We know what it takes. We’ll push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” I laugh softly at his words.

“We’ll simulate trial conditions,” Tsireya offered. “We’ll get you used to swimming blindfolded, tracking by sound, fighting underwater.”

Kiri smiled knowingly. “And I’ll handle the healing in between.”

Lo’ak scoffed. “She’s gonna need it.”

Neteyam chuckled under his breath. “You needed it more than I did.”

“Okay, relax,” Lo’ak muttered, tossing a berry at him.

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest despite the nerves. You weren’t alone. And you weren’t just surviving, you were training to thrive.

“Alright,” you said. “Let’s win this.”

“Hell yeah,” Lo’ak grinned.

The two weeks that followed weren’t just intense — they were brutal.

Training started before the sun rose and ended only when your body had nothing left to give. You were thrown into everything all at once: swimming, diving, fighting, endurance, culture, breath work, language. The days blurred together in a storm of movement, soreness, and new skills. But not once were you alone.

Everyone who had sat with you at that fire, Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, Tsireya, Aonung, even Jake and Neytiri, made it their mission to turn you into someone who didn’t just survive the trials ahead, but someone who could win.

Tsireya took the lead on water training. Elegant but fierce, she guided you through ocean currents and ilu maneuvers like she’d been born with gills. She taught you the Metkayina sign language for underwater use, patient when you fumbled it, teasing when you got too cocky. She’d flash a grin underwater and sign something cheeky like “Try not to drown today.” Somehow, her kindness made even the hardest swims feel doable.

Kiri helped you learn to read the environment, the way the ocean whispered danger, how to trust your senses. She also handled your healing, crafting pastes and teas for your aching muscles. She taught you how to see the environment and creatures in a different light. One night, she braided your hair in the traditional Omatikaya style, her hands surprisingly gentle. “You’re one of us now,” she murmured, fingers weaving through your hair. “You carry pieces of all of us.”

Aonung took strength training personally. He barked orders, shoved you to your limits, and made you do impossible climbs with no breaks. But you started to realize that was just his way, he pushed people he respected. Even when you were wheezing halfway up a cliff, he’d just cross his arms and smirk, saying, “You wanted to be ready. This is what ready feels like.”

Lo’ak was chaos. He turned training into challenges, bets, and games. He’d drag you into coral mazes or dare you to outrun skimwings just for fun. “Fear’s your worst enemy,” he told you, hanging off a tree branch upside down. “So, you might as well laugh in its face.” He was focused when he needed to be, teaching you how to be stealthy and how to read ocean currents like it was a different language, even boasting about how good a tracker he was, which wasn’t a lie.

Jake was the quiet cornerstone. He understood better than anyone what it was like to shift into a new body, a new world, and feel completely unanchored. He didn’t yell or correct , he guided. When your instincts failed you, he didn’t shame you. He reminded you, gently, that your strength came from two worlds. “You’ve got something none of them do,” he said once, tapping your chest. “You’re built for this in ways they haven’t seen yet.”

Even Neytiri, who had been wary at first, warmed to you. She helped refine your movements — teaching you how to fight like a Na’vi. Her elegance was dangerous, and when she moved, it was like poetry with claws. She never smiled during training, but there was something in her eyes — a flicker of approval, when you finally got something right. And that meant more than any words could’ve.

Then there was Neteyam didn’t claim one training area. He filled all the spaces in between, sharpening your footwork, correcting your hand position, swimming beside you when your legs gave out. He made sure you were safe, steady, cared for. When you stumbled back sore and bruised, he was already waiting with warmed salve, his hands steady as he pressed it into your skin.

“You took care of me when I couldn’t walk,” he said softly one night, kneeling behind you. “Let me return the favor.” He never asked for anything in return. But you started to feel his presence even when he wasn’t touching you, the gravity of his loyalty, the quiet way he watched you succeed and fail and never turned away.

By the time the two weeks passed, the group gathered for a final test on a wide, sun-warmed sandbar. Lo’ak tossed you a sparring stick. “Alright, killer. Time to show us what you’ve got.”

You rolled your neck and caught it one-handed. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

Aonung cracked his knuckles and stepped forward first. “Let’s find out.”

He came at you fast, striking low, then high, then ramming into you with his shoulder. You stumbled back, but planted your foot and spun, ducking under his arm. He caught you with a glancing elbow, but you twisted, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him down over your hip. He hit the sand hard with a thud.

Tuk shrieked from where she sat with Kiri. “HE FELL LIKE A TREE!”

Aonung wheezed out a laugh. “That was… not how I thought that’d go.”

Then came Lo’ak, quick and wild. He threw two punches, blocked your first jab, and swept your legs. You landed with a thud but rolled back to your feet.

“C’mon!” he called. “You’re slacking!”

You smirked, ducked a swing, and slammed your staff against his ribs. He grunted, staggered—then you caught him with a sharp elbow to the gut and twisted him down onto the sand.

Lo’ak groaned. “She fights dirty!”

“You’re still on the ground though,” you teased.

Then, unexpectedly, Jake stepped onto the sand. The laughter died instantly. You blinked. “…You serious?”

Jake tilted his head. “Last test. You ready?”

Neteyam immediately stepped in, tense. “Dad—hold up. She’s already gone through two fights already, and you don’t pull punches.”

But you placed a hand on his chest and stepped forward. “Baby I got this” whispering to him. Neteyam hesitated, jaw tight, but gave you a small nod.

Jake was every bit the warrior you heard about, calculated, fast, relentless. He swept your legs, jabbed your side, came in with force that made your muscles burn just blocking him. You absorbed it, adjusted your stance, remembered everything you’d learned. You feinted, dipped low, and slammed your staff into his back.

Jake staggered, then laughed as he straightened. “Damn. You’ve been holding back.”

Tuk ran up with wide eyes and a mouth full of berries. “YOU BEAT DAD! You’re, like, the champion of everything now!”

You laughed, panting, flushed with adrenaline. But your eyes were already on Neteyam.

He stepped close, voice low and thick with pride. “You were… Eywa, you were perfect out there.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Perfect?”

He leaned in, his voice dropping even lower. “Strong. Smart. Fast. You didn’t just beat them. You commanded them. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything as badly as I wanted to see you move like that again.” You swallowed, heat crawling under your skin.

“I mean…” he added with a sly smirk, “I’m still not convinced I wouldn’t win in a one-on-one.”

You tilted your head. “You sure?”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear. “Not even a little. In fact, I’d kind of like you to try. Right now. Somewhere private.”

You felt your breath hitch, and then a small voice piped up behind you. “Are you guys gonna spar again?!” Tuk asked, walking up and grabbing Neteyam’s hand. “Can I watch this time?!”

Neteyam froze. You stifled a laugh as he cleared his throat. “Uh… no, Tuk. This one’s… advanced training.”

She pouted. “Ugh. You two are always doing stuff without me.” Kiri rolled her eyes, dragging Tuk back. “Trust me, Tuk—you don’t want to see that kind of training.”

Aonung groaned from where he still lay on the sand. “I think I’m going to be sore for a week.” Lo’ak flopped beside him. “Bro… we raised a monster.” But all you could focus on was Neteyam, who took your hand quietly, his eyes still full of heat.

“Later, after the ceremony,” he whispered. “You and me. One more round.”

You squeezed his fingers with a grin. “You better hope you win.”

He chuckled. “That’s the plan.” And with the whole family laughing and sore around you, you finally felt it. Like you belonged.

You stood perfectly still as Kiri secured the final twist of your braid, fingers careful and practiced. Tsireya leaned over your shoulder, stringing a final set of small shells and beads around your waist—each piece of jewelry handpicked for grace, balance, and just a touch of allure. Your top was woven delicately from strands of sea silk and lined with shimmering reefstone, framing your form without hiding much. Your waist was wrapped in soft, flowing cloth, slit high on both sides to leave your legs free and your strength unhidden. Metkayina ceremonial wear wasn’t just beautiful—it announced you without a single word.

“You look like the ocean came to life,” Tsireya whispered with a small smile. She braided a single red feather behind your right ear, its stripes identical to the one Neteyam wore tucked in his hair. “This is from him. He left it this morning.” Your heartbeat louder than the drums already echoing across the reef.

Kiri tilted her head as she took you in. “I kind of want to fight you. But also? I’d totally lose.” She snorted, then gently pushed your shoulder. “Come on, sexy sea warrior. Time to terrify the clan.”

When you stepped out into the open reef, lit by the golden glow of the twin moons and flickering torchlight, the noise around the gathering dimmed. Warriors, families, elders, and children lined the moonlit reef, all drawn toward the ceremonial circle where Ronal and Tonowari stood beneath a great arch of woven coral and glowing jellylight.

Neteyam had spotted you first from his place next to Aonung and Lo’ak. And you could tell from his expression, lips slightly parted, eyes low and slow, that whatever thoughts he had weren’t suitable for this sacred ceremony. He didn’t say a word until you passed him.

“You’re trying to kill me,” he said under his breath, tone low and teasing, dripping with restrained heat. “You walk out looking like that, and expect me to focus?”

You smirked as you moved past. “Maybe I want you distracted.”

He gave a quiet, desperate laugh, then leaned in closer, murmuring just behind your ear, “Just so you know, if you survive these trials looking like that… I’m not going to survive you.”

“You look like you were carved out of something I’m not supposed to touch,” he went on, words slower now, more tangled, “and all I can think about is how badly I want to break that rule.”

Your breath caught. He smirked, caught it, and then leaned in just slightly closer, his voice a whisper now. “You take on sea monsters tomorrow,” he murmured, “but tonight, all I want is to feel your hands on me like I’m the one you’re trying to conquer.”

Then he paused, eyes flicking down, like he regretted saying that much, and added with a laugh in his throat, “You know, for… sparring purposes.”

You raised a brow. “Oh? You want to spar?”

“Desperately,” he said.

Tuk piped up innocently nearby, “Why is Neteyam making that weird face?”

Kiri choked on a snort. “Because his brain stopped working.”

The crowd rippled with tension as the drums began. Ronal and Tonowari stood beneath a woven archway of sacred coral, flanked by glowing torches and ocean banners snapping in the wind. The whole clan had gathered, warriors, elders, children. Some were singing soft songs of blessing. Others stood dead silent, watching every movement.

Tonowari raised his hands and called, “The Warrior’s Path begins.”

Ronal followed, voice ringing with power. “Five have stepped forward. Five seek the right to stand among the protectors of this reef. Chosen by Eywa. Watched by all.”

“Come,” Tonowari called, “and hear your fate.”

You stood in a line with the others, two young men and two women, all Metkayina-born and well-known. You were the outsider in the line, but no one dared look away. Tonowari stepped forward.

“The first day, The Trial of the Deep Silence.”

“Only those unafraid of the unknown can lead others through it.”

He began to pace slowly in front of the warriors, voice rising like the tide.

“At dawn, you will be taken far beyond our reef, into the stretch of ocean we call The Drowned Grave. A cursed trench, where currents pull like living hands, and predators lurk in the sand. No direction will be given. No aid. No weapons.”

“A sacred totem lies somewhere below, buried beneath the bones of warriors lost. You must find it and return with it before sunset.”

Ronal steps forward cold and calm, but she did not pace like Tonowari. Ronal had a different type of powerful energy surrounding her. “The totem is crystal red, like the shade of blood. It had a sharp point; you will know it when you find it. If you do you retrieve the totem for whatever reason that may be. You may return to the clan before sunset, or you will be disqualified.

There were quiet gasps in the crowd. Even Aonung’s jaw tightened. Kiri leaned slightly forward, eyes flicking toward Neteyam who hadn’t moved. His arms were crossed tight over his chest, his jaw set.

Lo’ak muttered from beside Kiri, “they are going easy on them huh?”

Tonowari continued. “The second day. The Trial of the Broken Crest.”

“Only those who carry pain and rise again may protect others.”

“You will begin beneath the Crimson Cliffs. You may bring a single spear, nothing more. The coral is sharp enough to tear skin. You must climb it, bleeding or not, while waves crash against you. And once you reach the top…”

He paused, eyes scanning the line of warriors.

“You will leap onto the Roc-Stone Beast.” The crowd stirred, several people gasped outright. Even the Metkayina warriors beside you stiffened. Tonowari’s voice dropped a note deeper.

“This creature does not obey. It is massive, territorial, and stronger than any tulkun. You must stay on it; make it carry you across the canyon waters. It will thrash. It will try to drown you. But if you survive… a warrior waits on the other side. He will mark your passage with fire.”

Tsireya clutched Aonung’s arm with wide eyes. Neteyam had gone quiet again, lips pressed thin. You couldn’t see the flicker of guilt in Jake’s expression, he knew what this meant. Kiri was whispering something soft to herself to Eywa.

Even the wind seemed to hesitate as Tonowari stepped forward again, his tall form shadowed by the moonlit glow of the reef. The ceremonial platform gleamed beneath him, coral light flickering like fire, casting halos around the warriors standing in line. He let the silence stretch.

No one moved. Not the clan. Not the Sullys. Even the sea creatures seemed to know what was coming. Tonowari’s voice dropped low, like it wasn’t meant to carry far, only deep.

“The third and final day,” he said, eyes sweeping over the gathered warriors, “will take you where breath cannot follow. To where fear is made flesh.” A ripple went through the crowd, soft but unmistakable.

“This is The Trial of the Spirit Veil.”

You felt something cold settle in your spine.

“Before the sun rises, you will be taken to the edge of the ancient reef. There, deep below, is a cavern hidden by glowing roots, a place that only opens once a year, when the sea lets it breathe.” Ronal stepped forward, her voice sharpened.

“It is alive. It shifts. It closes. No weapon, no light, no mask will help you. You will swim alone through different collapsing tunnels, breath held, blood quiet, guided only by the flicker of spirits.”

The other warriors were no longer stone-faced. One swallowed hard. Another shifted his feet. But Tonowari’s next words made the silence snap like a bone.

“At its heart waits a creature called Z’ul’koa.” (The Last Breath)

The name seemed to echo.

You didn’t recognize it, but everyone else did. It was written on their faces.

Aonung blinked like he’d just heard a ghost story he didn’t believe was real.

Kiri’s lips parted, a whisper of awe and dread.

Tsireya pressed a trembling hand to her chest.

Lo’ak muttered something that sounded very much like, “What the actual hell.”

Tonowari went on, voice harder now.

“Z’ul’koa is no spirit. It is no vision. It is a beast. Older than any song. Larger than any ilu. Born before our people and never tamed. It does not test you. It does not judge. It guards what is not meant to be taken.” He paused.

“Its skin is stone. Its fangs—poison. Its eyes… see into your soul. It senses panic. Smells fear. If you flinch, it will drown you. If you strike to kill, it will crush you. If you run, it will follow you until your lungs are empty.”

Then, softer, darker. “To pass, you must fight it. Not to destroy. But to endure. You must take from it what it guards: a glowing scale, embedded in its chest. And you must live long enough to return with it in your hands.”

He turned, slowly, back to the line of warriors. “Only three have done so. Not because they were chosen. Not because Eywa smiled on them. But because they refused to die.”

No one spoke. No one even moved. He looked straight at you. The reef was suddenly silent and the waves seemed to have retreated.

But behind you, Neteyam moved His hand found your arm first. Then your waist. Then both arms wrapped around you from behind like a lifeline, pulling you into his chest so hard you could feel the tremble in him. Not his body, his breath. His restraint.

You could hear it, that breath he tried to steady against your shoulder. He wasn’t hiding it anymore. He wasn’t calm. He wasn’t composed. He was terrified.

“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, voice rough and cracked just at the edges. His forehead pressed into the side of your head, and his fingers curled tightly against your hips. “You’ve already proven everything. To me. To all of them. You could walk away right now, and I would still be proud. We can go back, back to the cabin and stay there.”

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. Not with the way he was holding you. Not with how fiercely he didn’t want to let go. You rest your hand on his and hold his arms that were on you, trying to comfort him even if it was for a split second.

But he breathed again. Shaky. Quiet. His arms didn’t loosen. He nuzzled into your temple and took a deep breath, then another, and another. He was having a very hard time keeping it together. You didn’t even realize when Tonowari dismissed the warriors since all of them still stood next to you, I’m bracing their families. You tugged his hand softly, “come,” you whisper softly. But he heard it.

Neteyam didn’t even hesitate. The moment you turned away from the crowd, he was already following, his grip firm like he was afraid to lose you if he let go. The others let you go, no one tried to stop you, because the weight of what had just been announced still hung heavy in the air. And everyone knew what he needed now wasn’t words. It was you.

The moon cast a soft blue glow on the empty beach, waves hissing against the shore like the breath of something alive and watching. You tugged Neteyam by the hand, weaving away from the crowd and the firelight, past the low hum of whispered prayers and worried glances. His hand was clammy in yours, fingers twitching every few steps. You didn’t let go.

Once the sea stretched wide and empty before you, and the voices were far behind, you stopped. The wind tugged lightly at your braids. The ocean waited. And so did he. But not for long.

Neteyam took two steps back, like he couldn’t stand still anymore, and then he broke. “I can’t do this.” The words were ripped out of him, raw and sharp. “I can’t just stand there while they send you off to— to that. Like it’s some kind of test. Like you’re supposed to come back whole from—that.”

His hands were clenched in fists now, shoulders heaving, like he was trying to trap the grief in his body, but it was too big.

“You heard them,” he said, stepping forward, eyes wide and wild and glassy. “The Drowned Grave. The venom in the water. The cliffs. The roc-stone beast that drowns people for fun. And Z’ul’koa—Eywa, that thing isn’t even a creature. It’s a curse. It only opens the cave once a year. You have to fight it, bare-handed, and not die. That’s the goal. ‘Don’t die.’”

His voice cracked. He turned away from you sharply, one hand lifting to the back of his neck as he tried to breathe through it, tried to hold it in.

“I watched you walk to that line tonight like you were already one of them. Painted, braided, glowing like starlight, like you belonged in that trial. And all I could think about was how beautiful you looked and how I can not lose you.” His shoulders jerked again.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered. And then he finally turned back to face you, and his face was broken open. His chest hitched. His jaw trembled. And this time, he did cry.

“I can’t,” he choked, stepping forward, and you barely had time to open your arms before he crashed into them, clinging to you like a drowning man.

He sobbed once, hard and quiet against your shoulder, and his knees buckled, like the weight of it all had finally crushed him and we both fell to the floor. His fingers curled tightly into your back, nails almost digging in.

“I don’t care how strong you are,” he whispered against your skin. “I don’t care how much faith I have in you. I just… I just want to keep you. I want to keep you safe, and I can’t. I can’t follow you where you’re going.”

You held his head against your neck, your own eyes stinging now, but you didn’t let yourself break. Not yet. Not while he needed you to be the stronger one.

“I know,” you whispered. “I know, Neteyam. But I’m coming back. I swear to you, I’m coming back.”

“You can’t promise that” he said again, shaking his head. “You can’t.”

“I can promise I’ll survive for you,” you said. “I’ll fight every second to come back to you. That’s all I need you to believe.” He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in both hands now, forehead pressed to yours, his tears slipping silently down his cheeks as he looked at you like you were already fading.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I should’ve said it more often.”

“You will,” you said, cutting him off. “You will get to say it again. Every night. For the rest of our lives. All I need you to do is trust me. I will come back every night and you’ll be waiting for me on the shore I know you will be.”

He kissed you then. Not with heat. Not with lust. Just a deep, desperate need to feel you alive and warm and here. His lips trembled. His hands did too. When he pulled away, his voice was smaller, hoarse.

“Just… come back to me.” You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I will.”

And you stood there a while longer, in the arms of the boy who would’ve traded the world to take your place, while the sea whispered your fate just a few hours away. “I guess you don’t want the one on one now?”

It was gentle. Light. The kind of joke only someone who loved him could make in a moment like this. Neteyam gave a broken, wet laugh against your neck. “Skxawng,” he murmured, breath shaky. He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes rimmed red and wide with fear and adoration. “Don’t do that. Don’t make me laugh when I’m trying to fall apart.”

“You already fell apart,” you whispered with a soft smile, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone. “I just picked up the pieces.” He huffed another breath, still half-laughing, half-crying, pressing his forehead to yours. “I do still want that one-on-one. But only if you come back to me in one piece.” You leaned your forehead against his and whispered, “That’s the plan.”

The morning of the first trial came quicker than you expected. The family was up early as they normally are, Neytiri made breakfast before you had gotten ready. No more ceremonial beads or jewelry, now you were dressed in clothes for movement. You step out from behind the divider after securing the last knot. Jake and Neytiri sat side by side close to the entrance. Lo’ak sat in his hammock next to Tuk and Kiri stood by the divider in case you needed help. Neteyam had sat down since you woke up, his eyes were bloodshot but he wasn’t crying. Quietly I held his hand as we walked outside and everyone moved in step, forming a protective circle around us.

Tsireya and Aonung were already at the ship with their parents, but when they say is coming, they broke off and came to greet up. You smiled politely as they came by, Neteyam still hadn’t let go of your hand. After about a minute of small talk Tonowari announced the ship will be leaving soon and Neteyam immediately tightened his hold on your hands.

“Be careful, we will be waiting for your return. Remember the sea is a way of life, treat it as such, and it will give back in return.” Tsireya said as she gave you a small hug.

Aonung didn’t make an effort to move but he spoke, “don’t second guess yourself, you are more capable than you think.” You nodded at his respectfully and said thank you.

Lo’ak pushed your shoulder softly, “don’t forget what I taught you, be stealthy, don’t slash around it attracts stuff you don’t want to find you.” You laugh softly but nodded giving his hand a squeeze.

“We are counting on you to come back. Show them you are strong.” Kiri gave you a small squeeze in her arms.

“You’re coming back later we have to finish the game!” Tuk cheerfully said and you laughed nodding that you were coming back.

“May Ewya be with you child,” Neytiri hummed in her maternal voice. She hadn’t said it outright but you knew she felt something for you, acceptance.

Jake patted your shoulder and smirked, “give ‘em hell kid.” He smiled, “and stay vigilant.” You nodded and thanked him. Then came Neteyam’s turn.

Neteyam was quiet, head down, unsocial, “kalin it’s time for me to go” his hand squeezed mine as you spoke softly. “I know, I just—” a tear slipped from his eyes as his voice trembled.

“Just come back to me.” He whispered and gave you a tight hug, “I promise sweet boy” you kiss his neck softly before you pull away and kiss him. He tried to pull he back as you pulled away hearing the final call for the warriors, but you couldn’t. “I will see you at sunset.” You hold his face and plant another kiss on him before you let go and walk to the ship. You didn’t look back at them and neteyam was now standing between his parents, you felt like if you saw him you wouldn’t be able to leave but you had too.

The ship had vanished past the curve of the reef, carrying you toward the Drowned Grave and the first of the trials. Neteyam stood frozen on the sand, eyes locked on the horizon long after the vessel had disappeared. His breath came in shallow pulls, chest barely rising. He didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. And then, like something inside him gave out and his legs faltered.

But Neytiri was already moving. She caught him before his knees hit the sand, her arms strong around his shoulders as he crumpled into her. Like she had known this would happen — had been waiting for it. She sank with him, pulling him into her lap, cradling him like when he was her little boy again and needed her more than breath. He didn’t hold back anymore.

A sob burst out of him, raw and jagged, and he buried his face in her shoulder as his body shook with the force of it. Neytiri held him tightly, her hand curled protectively at the back of his head, whispering in Na’vi through the grief.

Jake moved in, silent for a moment, then crouched beside them. He placed one steady hand on Neteyam’s back, his voice gravel low. “You love her the way I love your mother,” he said. “And that love? That’s the kind of thing that brings people home.”

“I shouldn’t have let this happen,” Neteyam gasped, “I should’ve have let them make her do this she—she didn’t need to—”

“You gave her your heart,” Neytiri whispered, rocking him slowly. “Now let her carry it.”

Kiri knelt across from him, her eyes wet. She pressed her forehead to his, quiet and sure. “She knows what she means to you. She feels it in every breath she takes. But if you fall apart now, how can she hold herself together out there?” Her fingers brushed his cheek gently. “Let her strength come from you.”

Tsireya hovered nearby but didn’t hesitate. She reached out, placing her hand softly on Neteyam’s trembling arm. “She’s not going to give up. Not when you’re waiting for her. She’ll survive this. Because she’s fighting for you.”

Neteyam tried to speak but failed and only nodded, his throat closed tight around another cry. The waves filled the silence, crashing softly against the shore like they mourned with him.

Tuk approached quietly, small hand reaching for his. She didn’t say anything. Just wrapped her fingers around his much larger ones and held on tightly, her touch innocent, grounding. His breath hitched again.

Lo’ak stood nearby, arms crossed tight, his jaw working. “She’s… she’s coming back,” he muttered. Not looking at anyone. “She’s not like anyone else.” It sounded more like a promise to himself than to Neteyam.

Aonung, unusually quiet, stepped closer. He hesitated, then laid a firm hand on Neteyam’s back. “She’s got the bite of a wave beast,” he said gruffly. “She’ll rip through whatever they throw at her.”

The boat lurches to a stop. The quiet rush of waves gives way to the deep, rolling hush of open ocean. No one speaks. No words are needed. This is the place. Before you lie The Drowned Grave, a cursed stretch of reef where ancient coral towers twist like petrified serpents, and the ocean floor vanishes beneath layers of shattered stone, bone, and debris. No maps. No markers. No guidance. The only thing you know is that somewhere beneath it all lies a lost red totem, and only those who return with it before sundown are worthy. At least in the first day of the trials

You stand with the other warriors on the deck. All of you stripped of anything ceremonial wearing only thin, easy garments for speed and movement. The sky is heavy with cloud. The wind tastes of salt and metal. And one by one, you dive. The water swallows you whole.

You sink fast, surrounded by a maze of coral and wreckage, bones tangled in seaweed, driftwood wedged in impossible places. The temperature drops the deeper you go. Visibility shrinks. The silence is absolute.

Around you, the other warriors split off, some veering to the east ridge, others toward the trench line. You push west, toward a canyon of dead reef marked by jagged spires and purple fan corals that wave like warning flags.

You break the surface and descend into darkness and color. It’s cold. Not freezing, but enough to shock your lungs. The first thing you notice is how dark it is—like the world forgot the sun above ever existed. But then the glow begins. Not from the sky, but from below.

All around you, the ancient reef is alive with bioluminescence. Veins of soft green and purple run through coral like breath pulsing in stone. Tiny specks of blue and silver drift through the water like falling stars. As you swim deeper, massive bone structures and rotted shipwrecks begin to appear, each glowing faintly where the reef has claimed them.

Coral spires rise like the ribs of some long-dead leviathan. Barnacle-covered statues rest half-buried in silt. Schools of silverback fish dart between hollowed eyes of stone warriors, while thick kelp walls sway in slow rhythm, parting only when pushed. Everywhere you look, there’s something ancient, broken, watching.

You spread out without a word. Each warrior takes a path through the underwater maze, weaving past the glowing bones and rusted wrecks. The reef shifts. At first, it’s subtle, a slow creak, a vibration in the stone. But then the seabed moves like it’s breathing. Entire walls of coral slouch sideways. Tunnels you just passed now lead nowhere. What was once a clear path becoming a sealed tomb. The graveyard is alive. Shifting. Rearranging.

You push forward, lungs beginning to tighten. Twice, you’re forced to double back and swim toward the surface, breaking through with gasping breath before diving again. You find small air pockets in shipwreck hollows—just enough for a few precious seconds before diving again. You keep the image of the totem in your head: a red crystal, sharp like a fang.

You search for what feels like hours. Indeed, hours had pasted. Eclipses had come and gone now in the second half of the day. You felt like every time you made some progress the reef shifts and you’d have to start over.

Then, while sliding your hand along a broken arch, a shard of coral slices your palm. The pain is sharp, fast. You jerk back and watch a thin stream of blood bloom like ink in the water. It floats upward. You freeze. Suddenly, everything goes still. You feel it before you see it, a pressure change, like the ocean holds its breath.

Small glowing fish vanish into the reef. A long white eel buries itself in the sand. The Murk Shrimp you passed earlier retracts into a bone crevice, its shell rattling like dry leaves. Then, from beneath a ridge of bone, something moves. At first, it’s just a blur. Then you see the full shape emerge.

A Reef Maw.

Its body is massive, twenty feet at least, with thick, armor-plated scales that shimmer dully under the bioluminescence. Its long, jagged fins slice the water as it glides silently. Its face is long and narrow, with a mouth that opens vertically into a horrific spiral of teeth. And its eyes—cloudy and dead, somehow still find you. You don’t breathe. You don’t move. The blood. It turns. It charges.

You twist around and push off a column, kicking hard. The creature lunges past you, snapping its maw where you’d just been. You dodge through a sunken shrine, ducking beneath the collapsed roof as the Reef Maw crashes behind you. A long fin slams into your back, and you tumble, scraping your leg against coral.

You swim fast, pain biting at your muscles. There, a narrow crevice. You slip inside as the Maw slams into the reef behind you, too large to follow. It snarls deep, gurgling and spins off, circling. You stay inside, panting against the narrow stone, chest heaving. Blood from your hand still trails behind you. It’s not much, but enough to haunt you here.

You dive deeper into the moving grave, the glow of the reef painting your path. Just as the reef shifts again beneath your hands, you spot it. A red crystal, wedged beneath a skeletal hand resting on a broken altar, glowing faintly in the shifting light. You hesitate. You glance back. The Reef Maw is out there. And this place is still moving. But you’re close.

‘Fuck it’ you dart your eyes around before pulling yourself forward as fast you can on corals and weeds, even bones hanging around the area. You reach toward the totem, fingers brushing its sharp, red tip where it juts from beneath a coral-entombed skeleton.

But the water goes vibrates even silent. The silence deepens like it’s closing in around you. A shadow falls across the glowing altar. Your chest tightens. You don’t have to look, you already know. You twist your body just in time to see the Reef Maw coming around the corner, its jagged fins cutting through the water like blades, its mouth already beginning to open in that terrifying spiral. It doesn’t roar. It doesn’t scream. It moves like death, silent, focused, and endless.

You jolt backward, hand slipping off the totem. You kick hard, pushing off the skeleton’s ribcage and darting into the reef again. The Maw slams into the altar behind you, pulverizing the stone in a cloud of bone dust and coral shards. The totem was gone. Buried now.

You weave through collapsing tunnels of glowing bones and swaying kelp, every second a blind dash to not get cornered. The graveyard begins to shift again—the reef groans like something waking up beneath your feet. Whole sections rotate, a corridor you just swam through twists, becomes a wall. You double back. The Maw follows, tireless.

Your lungs begin to burn. You spot a break in the ceiling, a shaft of faint light above. You swim straight up—arms straining, chest about to burst and explode out of the water with a sharp gasp. You float there, panting, blinking hard against the sudden daylight.

But something’s wrong. The sun. It’s moved. Your heart drops. You stare at the sky, throat going dry. The sun is past its highest point, shadows stretching long over the sea. You’d been down there longer than you realized. You only have a few hours left. And you have nothing to show for it.

You feel it now: the pressure. The clock ticking loud in your chest. But you can’t give in. You dive again, water rushing past your ears. The reef is even darker now, lit only by the eerie veins of bioluminescence and the red haze of your own urgency. You retrace your path, no sign of the totem. Just dust. Bones. Rubble. You dig with bare hands, coral scraping your knuckles. You shove aside a collapsed skull. Nothing. Time is slipping like water through your fingers.

You push deeper; into a crevice you hadn’t searched before. The Reef Maw could still be down here, waiting. Every shadow twitches. Every sound makes your heart spike. Then, there it is. Half-buried beneath an overturned spear. The totem. Glowing red motherfucking crystal. Tip sharp as a dagger. You don’t hesitate.

You lunge, snatching it from the stone. A burst of adrenaline rips through you as you grip it tight. But you’re not safe yet. You twist around and launch yourself toward the surface, kicking harder than you ever have. You zigzag through glowing arches, pushing off twisted bones. Your legs ache. Your lungs scream.

Then, light. You burst from the water again with a triumphant gasp, the totem clutched tight in your fist. But you’re far from shore. Alone. And you have no mount. You tread water, heart hammering, salt stinging your cuts. Swimming as far as you could as fast as you could without dropping the totem, you felt like the ocean was just not on your side, not even a rock you could rest on for a minute in sight. Not to mention the sun was setting quicker than you thought it would.

And then, a shape glides beneath you. Sleek. Familiar. An ilu. It circles once, then draws close. Curious, intelligent eyes meet yours. You reach for it. It lets you. Your queue wraps around the tendrils behind its skull, the tsaheylu snapping into place with a jolt of shared breath. Your pulse slows. You’re not alone now. You hold the totem in one hand and grip the ilu’s fin with the other. Time to go home.

Neytiri had gotten neteyam to sleep for most of the day after his breakdown in the early morning, her poor baby was exhausted and worried. All day the Sullys and Tsireya and Aonung stayed around him, even as he slept they made sure he was okay. Lucky for them and for him, he had slept through most of the day and woke up a couple hours before sunset.

Now here he was, in the sand, pacing again. Lo’ak, Tsireya and Kiri had been constantly shutting down his ‘what ifs’ telling him that you were going to come back. That you were apart of him and you would do anything in your power to return to him. And that was the true. Even his mother stepped forward and hugged him gently, “she will return ma itan.”

A voice rang out over the beach: “There! Something’s coming!” Dozens of heads whipped toward the reef, eyes squinting against the glare. A shape was moving through the glowing water, slow and distant, just now emerging past the coral line. A figure, barely more than a silhouette, cutting through the sea. Silence fell. The entire clan froze.

The sun had nearly vanished beyond the horizon, casting long shadows across the water, painting everything in deep golds and violet blues. The faint pulses of bioluminescent life sparked beneath each ripple, but still, no one could see clearly who it was.

Neteyam’s voice broke through the tension, hoarse and raw. “Please…” he whispered, to Eywa or fate or no one at all. “Please let it be her.” When your face broke the last wave, his heart nearly stopped. You were soaked, your hair a tangled mess of braids, chest heaving with exhaustion, but it was you. And you were alive.

Neteyam didn’t think, he didn’t wait, he sprinted as fast as he could to get to you. He didn’t even pay attention to his siblings behind him running after him as well. Jake, not forcefully, but softly caught Neteyam and stopped him when you walk up standing in front of Ronal and Tonowari. You hand raised and open showing the the totem securely held, after centuries of searching, they have gotten back the secret totem.

Ronal was stunned, mouth opened in shock as she saw what you held. And Tonowari was impressed, surprised. He wasn’t expecting a winner in this first round, he took the totem from your hand and spoke. “The totem has been found. She had returned from the Drowned Grave. I present the winner of the first round.” Tonowari’s voice boomed over the clan. Gasps turned into cheers as they celebrated around you for what you have brought back.

Neteyam passed his father and picked you up in his arms tightly as if you weighed nothing, spinning you in a circle thanking the great mother from bringing you back to him unharmed and safe. Everyone wanted to know what happened in full detailed so over dinner you told them the whole story. Neteyam wasn’t too pleased you almost died a couple times and he helped you wrap the wound but he was overall happy you were back. Sleep found you easily as you knew you’d have the rise again the next day for the next challenge.

The next morning you gotten up early just like the day before and ate breakfast, gotten dressed and said goodbye to the family. Again, they walked you too the ship boarding and said their good lucks and to be careful. Neteyam still a sweetheart, again didn’t want you to go but he was more composed this time, so you coddled him, told him how sweet he was being and how much you loved him, giving him a sweet kiss with promises of return from your new trial. Of course he was scared but he knew you had to do this, he knew you could.

The moment your feet left the boat and slipped into the sea; the tone of this trial struck you like a cold slap. The water was nothing like the first day.

Where the graveyard had been eerily quiet, secretive in its depth, here the sea was alive, angry, almost. The currents yanked at your legs like ropes tied to something deep and furious below, dragging and twisting your body in all directions. Every movement was a fight to stay upright and on course, your limbs working against the water like trying to wade through a violent storm.

Waves crashed around you, tall, muscular walls of sea rising up like buildings ready to collapse. Each swell surged like a freight train, heavy and loud, slamming into your chest and shoulders with the force of something trying to push you back, to break your balance. Mist flew off the peaks, stinging your face, soaking your hair and burning your eyes with salt. Every breath had to be timed or choked on. Not to mention it made threading water much more difficult since you were hundreds of feet above the ocean floor.

The cliff. Not a slope, not a hill, but jagged, nearly vertical wall of reef-forged stone and razor-backed coral that rose endlessly from the water, like the ocean had tried to spit it out but it refused to fall.

It was red in places, not from color, but from blood coral, dead and hardened, like it had bled from ancient wounds. Other parts were dark and blistered from old ceremonial burns, the rock twisted and angry-looking. Algae clung to the base in long, green ropes, more like tendrils than moss. It looked slick and dangerous, like it would peel off the skin of your fingers for daring to grab it.

Above that, the real punishment began. The cliff face was shredded, uneven, brutal, and narrow. Coral spines jutted out like knives. Broken ledges offered just enough room for a foot or handhold before biting back. There were spots where others had already slipped, faded handprints in blood smeared across the stone in a trail that vanished higher up.

Even the air here turned hostile. Wind screamed down from the ridge, cutting through your wet clothes, tugging at your balance before you even climbed. It wasn’t a climb. It was a punishment, and the cliff wore its name like a threat: The Broken Crest.

The cliff loomed high above you, not just tall but mean. A serrated wall of pale coral limestone, slick with spray and worn sharp by decades of crashing sea and sun. It rose like a jagged spine out of the churning ocean, its surface pitted with small pockets and knifelike ridges, offering just enough for fingers to cling to, but always at a price. You weren’t alone.

Four warriors hit the cliff together; all tossed toward it by the surge of waves from the boat that had already vanished into the horizon. No words were spoken between you, just glances, gritted jaws, and the hard gasps of breath as each of you began your ascent. It was a scramble at first, everyone trying to claim space, find a path, avoid being shoved off or boxed in by another climber. The rock didn’t care. It punished everyone equally.

Your fingertips burned as they found rough holds — coral spines digging under nails, stone edges slicing into flesh. You hauled yourself up, pressed close against the cliff as a sudden gust nearly peeled you from it. Your shoulder brushed another warrior’s arm — he grunted, blood dripping from his jaw as he pulled himself up and away, refusing to give you even a second’s glance. The higher you climbed, the worse it got.

Salt wind screamed against the cliff, blasting from the side like it wanted to rip the flesh from your bones. The waves below had softened, but the memory of their force stayed in your muscles, still trembling from the effort it took just to reach the base.

Another warrior above you slipped. Her foot kicked out, spraying loose stone — she caught herself, barely, her knuckles white on the edge of a pocketed ledge. You flinched as debris sliced across your cheek, then kept climbing. You couldn’t afford to stop.

The reef rock changed texture as you went. Smoother in places, deceptively so. Your hand slipped once, caught nothing but wet algae-slicked stone, and for a sickening second your body hung in the air. Then your fingers slammed down on another hold, and you dragged yourself up before gravity had a chance to think. Above, the wind was howling through an open crest, not singing, but screaming, a raw and feral sound. That’s where you were headed. You reached the burn shelf next.

A wide swath of blackened coral, fire-scarred from past rituals, cracked and brittle from heat and wind erosion. It flaked under your palms, gave too easily under your weight. Everyone slowed here. One false grip and it could shear away, taking you with it. One warrior beside you reached for a hollowed groove, and it crumbled. He slid down two full lengths before slamming against a sharper outcrop, groaning in pain. You didn’t check if he kept going. You were bleeding now. Elbows, knees, palms. The climb asked for everything and gave nothing in return.

Your breath burned in your chest. Your arms trembled. You could hear the others, some above, some below. One was grunting with every move. Another was absolutely silent, too silent. You didn’t know who was leading anymore. You just knew you weren’t giving up. The final stretch was a vertical gauntlet.

The cliff narrowed into a jagged ridge, forcing you to climb almost straight up, hands and feet pressed to raw coral barely wide enough to balance on. The sun beat against the stone, blistering hot, making the blood on your arms tacky as it dried and pulled your skin. You couldn’t look down. There was no down. The moment your fingers reached the top ridge; your arm gave a tremor you didn’t expect. But you pulled, hard, kicked with both feet, and lunged over the crest like breaking the surface. You collapsed onto the hot rock, chest rising and falling, surrounded by other warriors, some already there, others still clawing their way up. No one spoke. No one had to. The climb was done. But you all knew it wasn’t over.

You pass beneath the first low-hanging branch, and the forest seems to shift around you, like something waiting, holding its breath. The deeper you go, the more unnatural it feels. The trees here are swollen and gnarled, warped by the salt and sea, their roots thick with coral crust and sharp shells. The canopy above closes tight, sealing the forest in a heavy, humid gloom. Strange spores float in the air, faintly glowing, drifting in the stillness like dust caught in water. It smells of decay and seawater. Old blood.

You step carefully, your ears tuned for movement, but it’s not just quiet. It’s dead. No birds. No insects. Only your breath and the soft crunch of coral beneath your feet. You’re alone. The other warriors have disappeared into different corners of the forest behind you, silhouettes swallowed by mist and shadow. You haven’t seen one in ages. The light fades. The ground slopes downward, soft and wet with moss and broken bone, half-digested carcasses littered here and there, some stripped to white, others still bearing shredded sinew.

And then the ground beneath you shifts. Just slightly, like something massive rolled beneath the surface. You freeze, heartbeat pounding in your ears. A low sound slithers through the trees. A guttural hiss, deep and wet, the kind of noise that doesn’t belong to anything natural. Something ancient. You crouch low, eyes scanning. And slowly, impossibly slow, it moves into view.

Massive. Covered in jagged, barnacle-studded armor and coral plating like it’s risen from the reef itself. Six limbs, four for crawling, two tucked close to its sides, ready to strike. Its hide is mottled gray-blue, slick and wet like kelp-drenched stone. Muscles ripple beneath its plating with every step. Its head turns toward you, long, narrow, and wrong, with no visible eyes at first. Just ridges and slits, until something glows. A faint bioluminescent shimmer from beneath the coral crown at its brow. Then it sniffs. The sound is wet. Curious. You don’t move.

Its jaw splits slightly, not to roar, but to taste the air, letting out a breath that reeks of salt, rot, and ancient sea-death. And then, it slips back into the trees again without a sound. Gone. Circling. Stalking. You can’t see it anymore, but it sees you.

It had been nearly two hours of silent tracking, two hours of weaving through the thick, bone-laced underbrush, your breath shallow, your nerves strung tight as wire. The forest had become a maze, overgrown with twisted roots and tide-slick stone. Every sound seemed to echo too far, or not at all. But you kept going. You remembered what Lo’ak had taught you in the months of sparring and survival drills: how to read a crushed fern, a bent stalk, the ragged smear of moss torn by a dragging claw. How to feel when the forest was no longer just forest, when it was watching. You moved in slow, deliberate steps, trailing behind the faint signs: a broken tree limb smeared with salt-damp mucus, deep claw marks gouged into a coral-crusted trunk, a warm patch of ground still damp with body heat. It was close again.

Then—movement. A massive coral frond snapped, not ten feet ahead. You ducked behind a tangle of roots, steadying your breath. Through the pale glow of drifting spores, you saw it step out again. That monstrous, living reef of a creature. Its six legs moved with a grace no creature of that size should have, terrifying, silent, hungry. This time, you didn’t freeze. You circled it low and wide, watching for a pattern. The beast had a perimeter, a territory. But now… now it was near the cliff’s edge. Your heart pounded. This was your only shot.

You broke cover and let out a short, sharp whistle through your teeth, just loud enough to get its attention. Its head snapped in your direction, glowing crests along its jaw flickering. It charged, stone-splitting limbs slamming into the ground as it closed the distance like a living avalanche. You didn’t run. You moved. Darting back toward the cliff’s edge, leaping over stone and bone and sea-warped roots, letting it chase you, angling just right. It didn’t hesitate. As you reached the edge, it launched itself after you with a thunderous roar, not knowing or not caring that there was no more ground beneath it.

You twisted mid-air, grabbing hold of the thick, barnacle-clad plating along its side as it soared past you. Then the two of you fell, crashing through the misty air in a storm of salt and shadow. The wind was torn from your lungs. Then—impact. The sea swallowed you both. Foam and fury erupted around you as the beast hit the surface, its massive limbs immediately churning into motion. The water was chaos, waves like rolling walls, the sea-chasm ahead a howling throat between jagged cliffs. The beast bellowed beneath you, and for a second you thought it would dive deep and leave you behind. But it didn’t.

You held tight, your body pressed to its armored back, your hands finding grip between plates slick with slime and tide-wear. It surged forward, a living battering ram against the rough canyon surf. Waves slammed into you both, one after another, slicing your skin with spray and grit, pulling at your arms, threatening to rip you loose. You stick the spears you had in the outer shell to secure yourself in the back of the creature and you held on.

Salt stung your eyes. Blood from shallow cuts on your knuckles dripped into the foam. Every second was a battle to stay astride, to keep breathing through the chaos. And ahead — finally — you saw the stone outcropping on the other side of the canyon. A lone warrior stood there, holding a charred, blackened emblem, the mark of challenge. The beast roared, responding to the presence of another, and you took your chance.

You leapt. Your feet hit slick stone, barely holding as you stumbled forward and reached out — snatching the burned symbol from the warrior’s hand just as another wave smashed the cliffside behind you. You had done it.

The warrior stood just ahead, perched beneath the sparse shadows of the coastal trees, his chest rising with steady breaths. He was older than you, tall and broad-shouldered, scarred from past trials, skin etched with faded stripes of soot and ritual ink. Their expression was unreadable, sharp eyes scanning you as the roar of the ocean swelled behind. In his hand, the scorched emblem, obsidian-black, shaped like a broken crest, still warm to the touch. You stepped forward, soaked to the bone, your grip trembling slightly as you reached for it. The warrior studied you for a moment, then extended the stone.

His voice low and gravelly. “And did not fall.” You took the emblem from his hand. It was heavier than you expected. “I almost got eaten,” you replied, breathless. A flicker of respect crossed their face. No smile, no celebration, just a short nod, like an acknowledgment between survivors. “Go,” they said, stepping aside. “Before the waves turn again.”

You didn’t know how long you’d been walking. Salt stung the cuts along your legs, throbbed in your palms where the cliff face had bit into you. The burned crest was secured across your chest, tied down with woven strips from your satchel. No ilu. No path home. Just the whisper of wind and sea and the slow, creeping fear that there would be no easy way back.

At the edge of the rock shelf, a narrow cove curled inwards, tangled with seaweed, littered with driftwood, abandoned shells, and frayed vines that had climbed in from the treeline. A small graveyard of the ocean’s forgotten offerings. It wasn’t much. But it would do. You reached for the spear strapped to your back. You wouldn’t need the whole thing. Not anymore. With a firm grip, you snapped the tip free. It cracked with effort, leaving you with a jagged blade, enough to strip bark, slice vine, carve holes. A knife born of necessity.

The raft came together slowly. Driftwood lashed together, secured with knots carved into the vine cords. Not stable. Not safe. But it would float. You shoved it into the tide with a grunt, sweat and sea spray clinging to your skin. Then you climbed on — body aching from the cliff, the search, the ride. And you began to paddle. For hours, you moved across the open sea. Each pull of the wood into water sent ripples back into the dark. The sun bled out slowly behind you, sinking into the waves like the end of a torch. The sky turned deep gold, then indigo. Then black. Still, you paddled. The wind tugged at your limbs. Muscles spasmed. Fingers cramped. But you didn’t stop. Not until, finally, you saw it, the faint, glimmering reef. Home.

You exhaled shakily and dropped onto your back, the night sky vast above you. Stars blinked into place, scattered like the stories of Eywa herself. You stared up, silent, as the water carried you forward in gentle pulses. The raft creaked. Your body trembled. But for the first time all day… you let yourself feel it.

On the reef’s edge, where the waves broke soft against the shallows, the Metkayina had gathered again. Just like the night before before, the clan had perched quietly in the sand and on the rocks, watching the ocean with wide eyes and held breath. Only five warriors had been sent to the trial. But now, it was nearing full dark, and none had yet returned. Then… a voice cried out. A boy near the edge of the shore, small and sharp-eyed. “Look!” Heads turned instantly. Shapes shifted. Tsireya gasped, clutching her brother’s arm. Aonung’s brows furrowed, squinting into the gloom. It wasn’t a swimmer or an ilu. It was…A raft. Kiri stood first, her hand rising to shield her gaze. “Is that—?”

As the raft drifted silently onto the shore, the wood scraping against sand and rock, all sound seemed to vanish from the world around you—save for the gentle lapping of waves and the rustling hush of a thousand watching breaths. You lay still; eyes turned to the dusky sky above. The last of twilight cast everything in a violet-gold hue. Your body ached down to the bone. Arms trembling knuckles raw. Salt stung the cuts that crisscrossed your arms, your thighs, your ribs. The blood had long dried, turned rust-brown and black along your skin. But from a distance to the people watching, you looked drenched in it—bathed in crimson, barely alive.

A voice cracked through the stillness. “Eywa…” Neteyam’s voice. He broke from the crowd like a dam snapping under pressure, sprinting into the shallows. Water splashed up to his knees as he dropped to them beside you. His hands hovered above your body, unsure where to touch you, terrified to cause more pain. Your lips parted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a weak, cracked breath. Neteyam’s face crumpled. His hands cupped your face so delicately, his thumbs brushed through grime and dried blood that streaked across your cheeks and chin. “You’re okay… you’re okay…” he whispered, but his voice trembled, and his eyes glossed. He bit down on his lip hard, chest heaving like he was holding in a scream. You whined softly when he moved you, and that shattered the last bit of his composure.

Still, his arms wrapped under your back and beneath your knees. He lifted you, careful, gentle—like you were made of wet paper. You whimpered quietly in his hold, your head falling against his chest, too weak to keep upright. Tsireya was just behind him now, her hand over her mouth. Her eyes glistened, wide and glassy. “Great Mother…” she breathed. Her voice cracked, and though no tears fell, the water in her eyes made them shimmer. She stepped forward to brush your hair gently behind your ear. “You look—” She swallowed. “You look like you walked through a war.”

Behind her, the rest of the Sully family stood frozen. Neytiri held Tuk tightly against her side, though the little girl had slipped one hand free and now clutched the hem of Neteyam’s loincloth as she stared up at you, wide-eyed and quiet. Jake’s jaw was clenched tight. Kiri’s hand was at her chest, lips parted like she was whispering something under her breath—prayers, maybe. Lo’ak stood beside her, mouth tight, gaze locked on you with a stunned, worried sort of stillness.

Then the crowd began to part. Tonowari and Ronal stepped forward. Neteyam instinctively turned slightly, shielding you more against his chest, but you touched his arm weakly. He paused. You reached down with fingers shaking from exhaustion and pulled the blackened coral stone from your satchel. No one had asked. But they were waiting. Tonowari extended his hand, and you placed the totem into his palm. He looked down at it, silent for a breath. Then he turned, lifted the stone high, and declared with powerful certainty:

“She has conquered the Broken Crest. Winner of the second round” The silence broke into thunder. The clan erupted. Shouts and cheers filled the air. Warriors beat their chests. Children cried out in awe. A second impossible trial completed, two in two days. And you still stood or were held. Neteyam still hadn’t let go. You looked up at him through heavy lids, and he stared down at you like he was still trying to convince himself you were real. His eyes brimmed again, the shine of almost-tears clinging stubbornly to the edges. His brow was furrowed tight as he pressed his forehead gently to yours. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, breath shaking. “I’ve got you.”

The marui was soft with candlelight and shadow, the woven walls barely rustling in the night breeze off the sea. You were tucked gently in the center of it all, surrounded, wrapped in warmth, hands, voices that all tried to ground you after everything the day had taken. Neteyam hadn’t let go of you once since he lifted you off that raft. You sat half-curled in his lap; a blanket draped around your shoulders but your blood-streaked skin still visible beneath it. Most of it had dried by now, and the real wounds, the deep scrapes and dark bruises, were being seen to. Neytiri worked in steady silence, rubbing salve into your arms and shoulders, brushing her fingers over each injury with care. Her touch was firm but motherly, like it hurt her more than you. Jake sat silently making something soft for you to eat. Kiri was at your side, gently lifting your hair to clean the wound at your temple. “You’re lucky,” she murmured, mostly to herself. “That canyon water should’ve shattered your ribs…” Lo’ak sat cross-legged near your feet, arms propped on his knees. His eyes hadn’t left you since you came in. “So… you gonna tell us how you rode a sea demon like it was a prize skimwing?” he asked, half-teasing, though his voice cracked a little at the end.

Neteyam shifted behind you, his hand cupped around your ribs like he was still protecting you from a fall. You could feel the way his breath changed when Lo’ak spoke, tense, listening. You exhaled slowly, your voice hoarse. “It wasn’t a prize. It wanted to eat me. I had to bait it into jumping off the cliff and swam across. Some of the scariest shit I’ve done in my whole life.” Tsireya let out a soft laugh through a sniffle. She’d cried when she saw you come in, your skin slick with blood, body shaking, barely standing upright. Now, she knelt beside Kiri, handing her a new cloth, her eyes still glassy. “We saw you in the distance,” she whispered. “Floating in the dark. Like a ghost.”

Neteyam’s arms tightened around you at that, as if he thought you still might disappear. His mouth brushed your hairline, and he said quietly, “I want to know everything. Start to finish.” You hesitated. But then you told them. The freezing water that slammed you into the reef like a ragdoll. The climb that felt more like a fight for your life. The clawed trees at the top that tore at your arms. The hours spent tracking the beast alone in the jungle, the way it finally turned on you, and how the only way out was down, a cliffside leap into sea foam. “The water was so rough and I kinda had to jump but land on top of that thing, it was basically a mutated dinosaur.”

They all listened in stillness. Lo’ak leaned in slowly, his expression changing from teasing to something heavier. Kiri gripped your hand. Tsireya covered her mouth with trembling fingers. Neytiri’s eyes never left your face, her hands working slower, more tenderly now. And Neteyam… he was silent, jaw clenched, his hand pressed flat over your sternum, feeling each breath as if it were proof, you were still alive. You finished, voice faint. “Then I broke the spear tip and paddled home. Took a few hours. Didn’t think I’d make it before night.”

There was silence for a beat, and then Lo’ak whispered, “Bro… she’s nuts.” A half-laugh slipped from you, weak but real. “That’s your takeaway?” He grinned through a tight throat. “Hell yeah, it is.” Neteyam finally leaned forward, gently guiding a cup to your lips. “Drink. Please,” he murmured, voice thick. You obeyed, swallowing the warm tea, your eyes on the entire time. When you were done, he set the cup down and cradled your face in both hands. Sleep found you easily that night, you had one more day to get through then you’d be able to rest peacefully with Neteyam, and you wanted nothing more than to build a life with him.

The next morning you rose early, the sun was a few minutes from starting to rise, the world was quiet, but everyone was awake, Tuk and Kiri helped lay out something for you to change into while Jake and Neytiri cooked and Lo’ak sharpened your knife. Neteyam sat quietly close to the door his body trembling from the day that awaits you.

The ache in your limbs was deep, bone-sunk, but you were used to that now. It was the nausea that twisted you this time, fierce and sudden, clawing at your insides the moment you sat up. The hut swayed slightly in your vision. You had to brace yourself on your palms to keep from tipping forward. Shallow breaths. You blinked hard, your brows furrowed in the dim light, hoping it would pass quickly like all the other mornings it had appeared. But it didn’t. You didn’t realize anyone was watching until you felt eyes on you.

Neteyam was already dressed, arms looped around his knees. He’d been awake long enough to see it, your slightly hunched posture, the way you pressed a fist to your stomach, the almost silent breaths you were forcing in through your nose. “What’s wrong?” he asked, standing up so fast he knocked over a bowl beside him.

The others looked up. Neytiri paused halfway through tightening her daughter Tuk’s sash. Jake furrowed his brow. Lo’ak sat straighter. Even Tsireya and Aonung, lingering just outside the hut, glanced in. You tried to wave it off, already reaching for your ceremonial wrap. “It’s nothing. Just… just nerves.” Neteyam was in front of you in seconds. “No,” he said, eyes sharp now, hands ghosting over your arms but not yet touching. “That wasn’t nerves. That looked like pain.”

“It’s fine,” you said again, but your voice was tight. You winced slightly as you straightened up and rolled your shoulders, hoping motion would make the tension fade. “It’s not,” he snapped, softer than a shout but harder than usual. “You’re pale. You can barely stand up. You shouldn’t be doing this today.”

Jake stepped in then, calm but firm. “Neteyam.” “No,” Neteyam said again, eyes still locked on yours. “You saw her.”

“I’m okay,” you said again, quieter this time. But even you weren’t convinced. Neytiri rose and approached. “We will help you get ready,” she said softly, reaching for your hair. “We will keep you grounded.” You nodded, not trusting your voice. As she tied your braids back into a tight, high ponytail, her hands were gentle, but there was tension in her touch. You could feel it. Her silence was loaded. Lo’ak hovered behind Neteyam, glancing between you and Jake. “Maybe you should talk to Tsahìk,” he suggested. “Just… make sure.”

Jake gave a single, sharp nod. “Go now. We’ve got time.” I look up from where I sat in front of neytiri and I nodded, “alright.”

“I’m going with you.” Neteyam immediately said. His words sent a shift up your spine you didn’t want, you couldn’t let him go because even if you mad every excuse for what you though the nausea you had meant, you could risk being wrong. Not in front of neteyam because you knew if he he heard those specific words he’d never let you finish the trial and it was the only way you get to stay with him.

“Baby it’s okay I’ll be ri—” you start but he cut you off quickly, “no, no I will go, come” he held your hand to walk with you and you softly stopped him, “kalin, I have a lot to prepare before I leave today, I’d appreciate if you focused you efforts there instead?” You ask softly. But neteyam wasn’t having it. He thought for a second but didn’t want to let you go alone. He was about to speak when his mother caught his attention. “Nete, come I need your help here with something for her to carry on the trial.”

His mother held up and small pouch and he looked at it. While neteyam was insisting he didn’t see the pleading look your casted to his mother, it was your silent way of saying to keep him here. Neteyam kissed your forever and nodded taking the pouch from his mother after he told you to come back quickly.

Neteyam stood rooted where you left him, eyes locked on the space you’d vanished into, jaw clenched so tight the muscle ticked. The way your shoulders had rounded forward, the way you’d winced when bending to tie the strap on your satchel, none of it sat right with him.

“She’s hiding something,” he said aloud. His voice cut through the quiet preparation inside the marui pod. Everyone looked up. Neytiri’s hands paused over the bone-woven wraps she’d packed for your trial. Lo’ak slowly lowered the weapon he’d been checking. Even Tuk turned toward him, frowning. Jake stood up straighter. “Neteyam—” but Neteyam interrupted him. “She’s in pain,” not bothering to mask the edge in his voice. “You saw her. Something’s wrong.” His mother reminded him gently. “She told you to let her go,”

“And why would she do that unless she didn’t want me to know what it is?” He started to move after you, quick steps across the marui’s floor, but Jake caught his shoulder with a firm hand. “You can’t go barging into the healing tent before her trial, boy,” Jake warned. “She doesn’t need space,” Neteyam argued, eyes storm-dark with worry. “She needs someone who gives a damn enough to see what she’s trying to hide.”

“Neteyam,” Neytiri said again, but he was already shaking his head. “I’m going.” He tried to step forward, but Jake’s grip held. Then Kiri stood, slinging her satchel over her shoulder. “I’ll go.” Tsireya stepped beside her in seconds. “So will I.”

Neteyam turned to them, eyes flickering. “Find out what’s wrong.” Kiri promised. “We will,”, already moving for the path. “Stay here.” Jake looked to Neytiri, then back at the two girls—but didn’t stop them. Neteyam didn’t watch them go. He turned his face away, fists clenched. The second they disappeared into the trees, he sank into a crouch beside the firepit, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Tuk quietly walked over and sat beside him. She didn’t say anything. She just leaned her small frame against his arm, and after a moment, Neteyam leaned back.

Ronal was already there, bent over a stone basin filled with steaming water, her hands moving in careful, practiced rhythms. She didn’t look up at first, as though she already knew it was you. “You are not here for salve,” she said simply, voice low and steady. You paused, hand instinctively pressing against your stomach again. It wasn’t the first time you’d done that, months now, small moments where the nausea came and went, where food made your stomach turn, and exhaustion dragged at your bones even after long rest. But this morning, it had felt like the earth itself tilted beneath you.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you said, your voice more fragile than you meant it to be. Ronal finally turned to face you, her piercing gaze sweeping over your face, your posture, the way you held your arm to your side slightly, as if to protect your core. “You should have come sooner,” she murmured, stepping forward. “You have known. In your body, in your blood. Women always do.” You swallowed hard, feeling your mouth go dry. “I couldn’t afford to be wrong.”

Ronal gestured for you to sit on the woven mat. You lowered yourself slowly, trying not to show how your ribs ached from the day before. She knelt beside you, her expression unreadable but not unkind. Her fingers were cool as they gently pressed against your abdomen, her touch firm and knowing. For a few moments, the tent was silent but for the bubbling of the steam bowl and the faint trickle of water from a nearby gourd. Then Ronal let out a soft breath, deep and final.

“There is life inside you,” she said. You stared at her, your lungs forgetting how to draw in air. “How far along?” You whisper. “Three completely cycles. Twelve weeks.” You took a deep breath at her words, that would have had to happen the first time you and Neteyam ever had sex. You register the hushed mumbling on the other side of the mauri flap. Quickly you dart up and swing the flap open, Kiri and Tsireya were startled when you suddenly catch them. “Get in here.” You whispered commandingly before looking around outside then shutting the flap behind you. “What the fuck?! What are you doing?” You whisper shout to them. Kiri played with her fingers and tsireya looked to the floor before answering, “we didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to? Do I look like an idiot?” You cut her off then Kiri spoke up, “he is just worried. He thinks your hiding something and he doesn’t like that.” You turn to look at her, “that’s the point Kiri. If Neteyam knows I’m pregnant he’s never going to let me finish the trials. And if I don’t finish the trials, I don’t get to stay here with him.” You stressed to them softly for them to try and understand where you were coming from.

Kiri’s eyes glistened, and her voice was quiet, but firm. “But he should know.” Tsireya stepped forward slightly, her gaze soft and conflicted. “You’re carrying his child… don’t you think he deserves to?” Your eyes dart between both of them, “you don’t think I’m aware? I want to tell him! I want to be an honest, loving girlfriend and make his dinner and tell him we’re gonna have a baby! But there’s a reason I haven’t.”

You turn to Ronal and look at her standing straight up, “is it possible for me to not do the last trial and stay? I won the other two with no complaints.” You ask her to consider your request to be with Neteyam without the last trial being necessary. Ronal’s eyes did not waver.

“I remind you,” she said, her voice sharp but not unkind, “Tonowari and I made our terms clear the first day you arrived. The only way you stay is if you earn your place through the trials. That agreement does not change because of poor timing… or poor family management.” Your breath caught, stung by the bluntness of her words, but not surprised. You didn’t expect mercy.

Kiri’s brows furrowed, and Tsireya’s lips parted as if to protest to her mother, but Ronal’s words continued with quiet finality. “You carry life now, yes—but that does not grant you an exception. It changes nothing.” You stood there, heart thudding, the weight of her words pressing into your ribs like stone. Ronal was unmoving, her expression as ancient as the reef, and as merciless. “If I don’t complete it…” you said softly, almost to yourself. “Then I don’t get to stay. I don’t get to build a life with the man who’s now the father of my child.” Kiri let out a shaky breath beside you, and Tsireya closed her eyes for a beat, absorbing the severity of it. “You choose this path. Now you will walk it. Fully.”

Ronal, who had remained unnervingly composed through your entire reaction, moved quietly to one of her woven satchels and retrieved a small bowl filled with crushed herbs and pale blue liquid. “Drink this,” she said simply, holding it out to you. “It will calm the nausea. For today, at least.” You eyed it for a beat, then took the bowl from her hands with a quiet, “Thank you.” The taste was bitter, earthy, with a sharp tang that made your tongue curl, but as it settled in your stomach, the tension began to loosen just slightly. She even gave you some extra in a small bottle just in case you needed it during the day. Immediately the nausea started to subside, so you were fearful.

The walk back to the Mauri was tense and quiet, the girls walked behind you, keeping up with your pace, their mind ran a mile a minute thinking about the situation you are put in. They knew the trials were not ease and they were worried for your safety since it started two days ago, but it felt like a whole different kind of worry now. Because now, you carry a child, a child that is not only yours, but Neteyam’s as well. Outside the Mauri when it was in view you stopped and turned around. “Not. A. Word.” You emphasized and they nodded.

You didn’t want to be mad at neteyam for what he did when you walked in, you knew why he would do it. Neteyam is not stupid there was no way he didn’t notice the fact that you didn’t want him to go with you to see Tsahìk. But it wasn’t something you could deal with right now. On top of the fact that you were worried and scared for your own life in this final trial, you were now also scared for your baby.

His eyes locked onto yours as you walk back into the Mauri “What did she say?” His voice was calm, but barely. His fingers curled and uncurled at his sides. You kept your expression neutral, even as your hand pressed unconsciously against your stomach. “Nothing serious,” you said lightly. “Just jitters. I’ll be fine once I start moving.” He stared at you, searching for cracks in your face, doubt flashing behind his eyes. “You’re sure?” he asked slowly. “Positive,” you replied, and then turned deliberately to Tsireya and Kiri behind you. “Right?”

Kiri blinked, caught off guard, but recovered quickly. “Yeah. She’s alright,” she said, a bit stiffly. Tsireya nodded quickly, eyes flicking to Neteyam and back to you. “Nothing to worry about. Just nerves.” Neteyam exhaled, though his shoulders didn’t fully relax. “You scared me,” he admitted, stepping forward. “You looked sick” he said softly as if he was disappointed now you have to go on this trial “I guess I needed some air,” you interrupted softly. “And to clear my head before the last trial. That’s all.” He didn’t respond right away. Just moved close enough to rest his hand gently against your arm, grounding himself. You swallowed, offered him a small smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. And though Neteyam said nothing else, the way he looked at you said it all, He didn’t believe you.

The send-off felt heavier than the other two days combined. There was no boat or escort this time, just your ilu waiting near the shallows, the water quiet and still like it understood the weight of the day. The others had already departed, disappearing beneath the waves in separate directions, each tasked with finding the sacred cave by intuition and Eywa’s grace alone. No markers or guidance, only rumors that the cave rejected those unworthy, hidden behind rock formations along the deeper reef, with multiple narrow, winding entrances that shifted like a maze with the tide. Neteyam stood close, silently wrecked. His hand shook slightly as it gripped your wrist, like if he held you tight enough, the ocean couldn’t take you. His lips brushed your forehead, then lingered there, breathing you in. He didn’t speak, because if he did, he might beg. Jake stood with an unreadable face, Tuk clung to Neytiri’s side, and Lo’ak kept glancing away, jaw clenched. Tsireya and Kiri hovered nearby, stealing worried glances between you and Neteyam, both still holding the weight of your secret. Yet, even in their worry they exchanged good lucks and told you to come back safely. When you finally turned toward the sea, Neteyam reached for you again, but let go, barely. Just long enough to watch you slip into the water and disappear. He had no idea how hard you were going to fight to come back to him today, to be able to bring joy to his life when it’s over and you’ve won.

You had been riding for half the day, long enough for the sun to rise to its highest point and begin its slow, unrelenting crawl across the sky. The warmth on your shoulders was deceptive, a thin veil over the unease twisting deeper in your stomach. The further you pushed out into open ocean, the more the world around you shifted. The water, once a clear and welcoming blue, turned murkier, heavier. Like it carried weight. Memory. Warning. No coral reefs out here. No playful fish. Not even the distant calls of tulkun. Just endless rolling waves and the occasional scream of wind passing low over the sea’s surface. Your ilu swam slower now, more hesitant, snorting through its blowholes as if it too could sense you were trespassing. And then you saw it.

At first it looked like nothing more than a jagged set of rocks breaching the surface like broken ribs, clustered together in the middle of the ocean. But as you rode closer, the shape revealed itself, an enormous stone structure, fractured by time and weather, rising like a crumbled crown from the depths. There were multiple gaps along its base, fissures and shadowed openings like crooked mouths, but only one led downward, into the deep. The sacred, unwanted cave. It was no more than a long, uneven crack in the stone, veiled in thick curtains of seaweed that swayed like breath. The entrance narrowed like a throat. Barnacles, razor-sharp and bone white, clung to its edges. The water that spilled from within was colder, darker, like it had not been touched by light in decades. You stopped your ilu. It refused to go closer, even as you urged it forward. It knew better. So you slid off. Alone. Your heart pounded as you floated before the mouth of the Spirit Veil, this sacred, ancient place not marked by song or stone but by dread. You took one final breath and dove, vanishing into the darkness that welcomed only the brave… or the damned.

The tunnels were a labyrinth of darkness and shifting currents. You left your ilu at the mouth of the cave, tying her loosely to a jutting reef-rock, and dove in alone. The water turned cold quickly, silent and pressurized around you as you swam through the jagged maw of the entrance. The stone was slick, ancient, covered in creeping mosses and bone-pale corals that glowed faintly under the filtered sunlight from above. Hours passed in a blur of aching lungs and sharp corners. The cave was massive, larger than you’d expected, its tunnels narrowing, widening, splitting and looping in dizzying patterns. You hit dead end after dead end, sometimes squeezing through tight crevices only to find yourself trapped, forced to backtrack. Twice you surfaced in tiny air pockets that smelled of salt and sulfur, and pressed your forehead to the stone, panting quietly, letting your arms and legs stop shaking before diving again. Time lost meaning.

But then something changed. As you kicked into a tunnel that sloped downward like a throat, a shimmer of movement caught your eye. Tiny lights, flickering, floating, drifted toward you. They were the same ethereal, bioluminescent creatures you remembered Kiri teaching you about back at the reef. They way she could move with them like they were one. Eywa’s whispers in the water. They circled your fingers when you reached out. Warm. Gentle. Curious. Then they began to drift forward slowly like a beckoning path. With no other option, and your heart hammering from more than exhaustion, you followed.

Down and down, through dark chambers filled with eerie stillness. Past twisted roots and carvings so old they no longer looked like anything. And then, as the tunnel widened into an immense flooded chamber, the lights dispersed, and you saw it. Far below, rising slowly from the abyssal shadows, was a creature so ancient it looked carved from the sea floor itself.

The cavern pulsed with an eerie, otherworldly stillness. Pale light from glowing fungi clung to the jagged ceiling and walls, flickering faintly like a dying breath. The air was heavy and damp, tinged with salt and stone, as if the cave itself had been exhaling for centuries. Around you, twisted columns of limestone reached from floor to ceiling like the spines of some long-dead beast. At the center of it all was a vast, glass-still pool of water, crystalline and so clear it looked shallow at first glance. But when you stepped closer, peering down, the illusion shattered. There was no bottom. Just endless, pale blue darkness. Cold and ancient. Like the eye of Eywa herself.

You turned, looking for any sign of the other warriors. There was none. Then the surface stirred. At first, it was small, barely a ripple. Then another. And another. As if something immense was circling far below, brushing against the very bones of the earth. You held your breath, tension crawling over your skin like frost. Then a shape rose beneath the surface. You saw it before it broke the water, glowing lines of bioluminescence, shimmering faintly along an impossibly long, coiled body. It moved like liquid shadow, its size so great it felt like watching a living reef come to life. Segments of its thick hide flickered in eerie patterns, blues, purples, and sickly greens, as it undulated upward. The surface broke in a slow, soundless swell. It was monstrous.

Its body was serpentine, stretching longer than any tulkun, with armor-plated scales like interlocking slabs of stone, ridged and scarred and cracked with age. Patches of glowing coral-like tissue pulsed between the armored plates, lighting up the water around it in ghostly hues. Six long limbs curled inward against its body, each ending in clawed, fin-like appendages that scraped gently across the rock with a metallic hiss. Barnacles clung to its jaw. Sea moss hung from the horns that spiraled back along its skull. But its face— its face was a nightmare carved from the deep. Wide, flattened, with a lipless maw full of needle-thin teeth that curled inward like the mouth of a sea lamprey. Its eyes were vast, jet black, and glassy—utterly void, and yet watching you with an unmistakable intelligence. Ancient. Judgmental. As if it had seen this trial a thousand times and had drowned just as many.

It didn’t roar. It groaned. A sound like a warped conch shell blown through miles of water and bone. The cave shuddered with it. The water trembled. And your lungs tightened from the sheer vibration of the creature’s voice echoing through your chest. The creature circled slowly again, and you saw it, just beneath its throat, glowing faintly where the scales thinned and separated. A patch near its heart, where a single shimmering scale pulsed brighter than the rest. That was what you needed. But it would not give it freely. As it circled back toward you, you shifted into a defensive stance at the edge of the water, heart pounding, muscles screaming from the trials before. You would either take the scale or it would take you.

You stayed crouched at the edge of the water; eyes locked on the glowing patch near the creature’s chest—its heart. Your instincts screamed at you not to go in, but there was no choice. This was what Eywa demanded. The scale wasn’t a gift. It was a trial. And you had come this far. With a final breath, you dove in. The cold hit you like a slap, knocking the wind from your lungs, but you kicked down hard, streamlined, letting your body glide into the deep. The water muffled the cave’s sounds into a distant hum, your heartbeat a pounding drum in your ears. You saw the creature below, coiled lazily in the dark. It hadn’t moved since its call, as if waiting. Watching. Daring.

You approached slowly, hands out, careful not to look directly into its eyes. You knew better. Predators read that as challenge. The shimmering creatures—those sparkling specs of light, Eywa’s whispers—still floated around its body, brushing against you like tiny ghosts. They pulsed brighter as you neared the beast’s heart, guiding you. You were nearly within reach when the creature twitched. Without warning, it surged forward, and the water exploded around you. You twisted, just barely missing its tail as it swept sideways, knocking debris off the cave walls. The current spun you into the rocks, slamming your ribs against a jagged edge. Pain flared. You tasted blood in your mouth as you fought to stabilize.

You swam again—this time higher. It was fast, but you were agile. It snapped at you, jaws closing with a vacuum force that shook the cavern. The water shimmered with disturbed bioluminescence as you darted between its limbs, ducking beneath its slow strikes, latching onto one of the barnacle-covered ridges along its side. Then you made a choice. You let go. Let yourself drift downward, eyes closed, hands out, unarmed, surrendering completely in a way that didn’t make sense. You remembered Ronal’s words, Neytiri’s training. You remembered Eywa’s balance—nothing is taken without something being given. Your body relaxed, trusting. The creature loomed overhead, circling once more. Then it came close.

You opened your eyes as the water settled around you. The beast hovered, face inches away. Its breath churned bubbles from its nostrils, creating currents that gently swayed your hair and skin. You didn’t flinch. You placed a palm against its chest—right over that glowing scale. You thought it was about to eat you. Since you made the stupid decision to stop, but you couldn’t let it slam you into anymore rocks, your body protected more than just you now. It protected the unborn child of the man you were in love with. It didn’t attack though. It lowered its head. A heavy sound left its throat, like approval, or maybe surrender, you didn’t want to question it. Slowly, impossibly gently, the scales at its chest shifted. The glowing one loosened, like it had always been meant to be removed. Your fingers closed around it, heart shaking in your chest.

As you pulled the scale free, the light around you dimmed slightly. The creature gave a slow exhale, then dove back into the dark, disappearing into the deep without another glance. You floated in silence, holding the scale to your chest. Eywa had judged you. And you had passed.

The silence that followed the beast’s retreat was deafening, not fearful, but sacred. Reverent. The glowing scale in your hand shimmered like starlight, still warm from where it had rested against the chest of the ancient serpent. Your fingers closed around it tightly, your chest rising with each shallow breath. Pain. Sharp and burning, a reminder with every inhale. Your hand instinctively moved to your side — right where your ribs had cracked when Z’ul’koa slammed you against the jagged rock wall. The skin there throbbed and pulsed with the weight of bruised muscle and fractured bone. But you didn’t cry out or wince, because you had done it. Only two had passed this trial before. Only two had survived Eywa’s judgment. And now… you were the third.

You hadn’t begged. You hadn’t been spared. You had earned this scale through sheer endurance, through agony and unrelenting determination. This was not a gift — it was proof. You looked around the glowing heart of the cave. The water beneath you was deep and glassy, dark as night but undisturbed now, save for the occasional shimmer where bioluminescent fragments of Z’ul’koa’s trail still floated like stars across the surface. There were no warriors in sight. You were alone, entirely, beautifully alone. But not truly.

Your hand drifted to your stomach, resting gently there, and you closed your eyes for a moment. Your child. The one you would return to tell Neteyam about. The one who had unknowingly endured every ounce of suffering with you. You opened your eyes again with fire beneath your breastbone, ignoring the way the ache in your ribs flared as you moved. It didn’t matter. Nothing could stop you now. You weren’t broken, you were changed. Hardened. Empowered. You tucked the scale safely into your satchel and turned back toward the submerged tunnel system. The exit would be just as treacherous as the way in. But this time, you weren’t hesitant. You weren’t afraid. You had faced a leviathan and won. You were going home, to your family, to your mate, or soon to be and to the life blooming quietly inside you. And when you emerged again into the light, they would see who you truly were. Worthy. Unshaken. Victorious.

It took time, too much time, weaving back through the shifting tunnels with aching limbs and one arm curled protectively around your side. Every dead end you remembered on the way in you now avoided with precision, instinct carrying you forward even when the pain dulled your vision. You followed the soft current, the pulse of the ocean, until finally… you saw it. Light. A distant, wavering gleam that grew stronger with each stroke. The narrow crevice widened into the main tunnel, and your heart clenched when the dark water finally opened up to the sea.

The exit grew brighter, the water clearer, and then finally, you pushed through, breaking the surface. Night had fallen. Stars glittered above, cool and sharp, stretching wide across the sky. The surface of the sea was glassy, reflecting the pale moonlight. You took a deep breath and spun in the gentle current, chest heaving, blinking up at the night sky. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in the cave, hours, at least, but your ilu was still there. Still waiting, loyal and patient just outside the entrance. You whispered a soft thanks to Eywa, stroking its head before climbing onto its back, fingers still shaking.

The moon was high and cold above the reef, casting pale reflections across the water’s surface. The tide had shifted; the air was quieter now, heavier. But the quiet wasn’t peaceful. It was suffocating. The other warriors had returned hours ago, one by one, exhausted and wounded, each one empty-handed. None had made it to the heart of the cave. None had seen you. Not even once. Neteyam hadn’t moved from the shore. He stood in the shallows with his feet submerged, arms crossed tightly over his chest like he was trying to hold himself together. His eyes were locked on the horizon, unblinking, haunted, watching for any sign of you. He’d been doing it for hours. “She should be back by now,” he muttered under his breath.

Lo’ak exchanged a glance with Kiri and Tsireya behind him, concern etched into both their faces. Tuk sat beside their mother, her chin resting on her knees, eyes wide and uncertain. Aonung stood a few paces behind them, quieter than usual. “She’s strong, ma’itan,” Neytiri said softly, placing a hand on Neteyam’s back. “You know she is.”

“She’s never taken this long before,” he replied, shaking his head. “The others came back. And they didn’t see her. That cave system isn’t that big.”

“She probably found a different path,” Kiri offered. “That place is full of tunnels and dead ends—”

“She’s not stupid,” Neteyam snapped, spinning to face her. “She wouldn’t just get lost. She would’ve left a mark, something. You— I know she would’ve.” Jake stepped forward now, calm but serious. “We don’t know anything yet. We wait. Like we said.”

“No,” Neteyam said, shaking his head, voice trembling now. “I can’t. I can’t just wait while she might be—” He choked on the words, cutting himself off before he said it. Tears stung his eyes, but he blinked them away fast, swallowing the emotion burning in his throat. His fingers curled at his sides. “I’m going after her.” Jake stepped in front of him. “Neteyam, stop. We don’t even know which entrance she took or where it is. If you get lost too—”

“I don’t care!” he shouted, shoving past him. “I don’t care what happens to me—she’s still out there, and no one is doing anything!” Behind him, the gathered crowd of Metkayina stirred with unease. The silence among them had grown eerie, unnerving, people were beginning to murmur to one another. The kind of whispering that wrapped itself in grief before it was even earned. They thought you were gone. Neteyam’s voice cracked as he stumbled forward again, breathing hard, fists clenched like if he didn’t grip them tightly, he’d fall apart. He didn’t even hear the shout at first.

“There!” someone called from the far edge of the beach. A lookout on the rise pointed to the sea. “Look—an ilu!” Every head turned. Across the moonlit water, a shadow cut through the waves fast and low. An ilu gliding toward the reef, its rider hunched, slow-moving but upright.

You. The crowd gasped, all at once. Then came the shout of disbelief. Relief. Awe. But Neteyam was already tearing down the beach to where your ilu would swim up, heart exploding in his chest, sand flying under his feet, sprinting toward the shoreline like his life depended on it. Because it did. Because you did.

You barely made it to the shallows before Neteyam sprinted into the surf. His arms wrapped around you tight, lifting you clean off your feet and spinning you, water splashing up around you both. You winced when his grip tightened over your ribs but still melted into him as he buried his face into your neck. “I thought—I thought—” His voice cracked, and he hugged you harder. “Great Mother, I thought you weren’t coming back.” You gave him a shaky laugh, brushing your fingers through the braids he’d probably tugged on all day. “I told you I would come back baby.”

He held you for a moment longer, breathing you in, before the rest of your clan crashed onto the scene behind him — first Jake and Neytiri, then Lo’ak and Tuk, Kiri and Tsireya and Aonung trailing behind. Neytiri’s hand flew over her mouth. Jake exhaled hard, as if he’d been holding his breath for hours. Tuk gasped. “You’re back!”

“You’re kidding me,” Aonung muttered, stepping forward like you might vanish if he blinked. “No one’s seen you all day. We thought you were fish food.”

“I told you she’d make it, she has a reason to come home.” Kiri said, mostly to herself, her eyes wide. Neteyam still hadn’t let go of you. “What happened? You were gone.”

“I got… turned around. Lost in the tunnels for a bit,” you said, and before anyone could ask more, you reached for the cloth pouch secured at your side. “But I found the heart.” The crowd had just started gathering when you slowly unfolded the cloth and held out the faintly glowing scale. It shimmered in the moonlight. Deep purple-blue. Edged in rough ivory. Still pulsing like it was alive. Dead stunned silence. Lo’ak gawked. “Is that what I think it is?” Tsireya covered her mouth with both hands. “Oh, my Eywa…” Aonung took a slow step back. “Bro,” he said to no one, “she actually fought it.”

“She didn’t just fight it,” Kiri whispered. “She won.” Neteyam stared down at the scale like it might explode. “This—this is from its chest. That thing’s hide is like stone—how did you even get that?” You shrugged, grinning, despite the ache in your ribs. “Very carefully.”

Ronal and Tonowari stepped forward from the edges of the crowd, their usual composure gone. Ronal’s lips parted in disbelief. She looked down at the scale, then at you, then back at the scale again. “This…” she whispered. “This is the mark of a soul judged worthy by Eywa herself.” Tonowari’s brows shot up, his voice full of awe. “Three,” he muttered. “Only three have ever returned from the Spirit Veil with proof. And none in the last generation. You have earned our trust. You may live here, as one of us.” He said to you before turning to the crowd announcing you as the winner of the trials. The clan cheered loudly for you. Which made you smile victoriously.

Neteyam held you close as he walked you back to the mauri, back him. His arm around your waist as he helped you walk on the bouncy woven path. His family followed in step behind them include Tsireya who wasn’t ready to leave yet even though Aonung opted out of the late-night dinner plans. In the mauri Neytiri cleaned and wrapped your broken rib along with any other small scratches on your body. “You have a strong heart,” she said, her eyes studying your face. “You love strong… deep like the sea.” She placed her hand over your heart. “You did not run. You stay, fight, suffer… all to stand beside him. She nodded slowly. “That is what a mate does.” There was a silence, a look in her eyes, one you couldn’t quite name until she spoke again. “I see you. Eywa shows me. You are his. He is yours. And so…” she smiled gently, voice full of warmth. “…you are mine too.” Then she said it, full of tenderness.

“Ma’ite.” She touched her forehead to yours in the Na’vi way. Your eyes shimmered, but you didn’t cry. It just felt… nice, to be seen like that, to have a mother’s warmth again. “Thank you.” You whisper to her, you couldn’t find words of gratitude, what it felt like to be accepted into the family of the man you loved with ever piece of you soul. After your heartfelt conversation with Neytiri, Kiri and Tsireya helped you clean up and get dressed behind the divider, softly whispering asking you how you felt, if you were okay, if the baby was okay. But you just knew you could reassure them everything would now be okay.

Dinner was severed, roared fish and fruit with root mash, something you had grown to like while you lived with Neteyam’s family. Jake had prepared it, having watched his wife do it countless times he finally figured out how to use spices. Lo’ak had unpacked your stuff softly and Tuk bounced around the mauri filling it with like. Neteyam hooves, you felt clean now, relaxed, you wanted nothing more than to be close to him. Lo’ak had infused some healing tea while you were cleaning so you sipped it softly while eating, he’s not a boy if many sentimental words but he showed he cared. “I’m so hungry…I feel like I’m eating for three people.” You huff as you take your second helping of food.

Kiri and Tsireya looked down at their leaves of food like it had the answers to life, they didn’t want to spoil the secret they worked so hard to keep all day. Your words however, caught the attention of the entire mauri and Lo’ak spoke up, “how is your appetite so high? You’ve been eating like a beast since I met you.” He asked while eating and my eyes dart up to him, “you calling me fat bro?” I glance at him before taking another bite of food. Before he could answer though, Jake spoke up, “Neytiri ate like that when she was pregnant all three times, I had to go hunting every week.” He laughed as Neytiri swatted her hand at him. You lean into neteyam and laughed, and his arm distinctively held you there.

The air buzzed gently with laughter, shared food passed around with teasing grins and nudges, every moment steeped in comfort. It wasn’t just Neteyam’s family anymore. Somewhere between the trials, the quiet moments, and the way they had waited for you, worried for you, fought for you, it had become your family too. You didn’t feel like someone who had to prove themselves anymore. You felt loved. Chosen. Home.

You laughed softly at Jake’s comment about Neytiri, leaning into Neteyam as his arm wrapped around you. Taking a bite of your second helping, you paused for a moment, then muttered without thinking much about it, almost to yourself, but loud enough for the table: “I guess this growing hunger makes sense now… can’t say the nausea’s been too friendly either.” The words slipped out before you could stop them. Neteyam’s hand froze on your back. Tsireya and Kiri exchanged quick, knowing glances, trying not to smile. Lo’ak blinked, fork halfway to his mouth, eyes sharpening as he pieced it together. Jake gave a low whistle, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Neytiri’s eyes softened, a slow smile blooming as she looked at you like you’d just become her daughter.

Neteyam’s gaze locked onto yours, confusion melting into dawning realization. He swallowed hard, a breath caught somewhere between shock and awe. You gave him a small, nervous smile. And just like that, the secret was out. “I’m pregnant.” The room held its breath for a moment, then laughter and warmth bubbled up all around. Tuk bounced excitedly, Neytiri’s eyes glistened with pride, and Jake shook his head with a smile. Neteyam just sat there, stunned, but proud.

“You’re pregnant? Really?” Neteyam’s voice was barely more than a breath, like saying it too loud would break the moment. His eyes searched yours, wide with disbelief, like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. You nodded slowly, the corner of your mouth lifting. “Yeah… really.” He stared at you for a second longer, his hand still gently cradling your side like you might disappear. “When did you find out?” he asked, the sounds of laughter and celebration from the others fading behind him, like the world had narrowed down to just you. “This morning,” you said softly. “Tsahìk confirmed it.” His brows pulled together, jaw tightening slightly with realization. “This morning?” “This morning?” he repeated, voice quiet, almost stunned. His brows lifted, eyes locked onto yours like he was trying to read the truth off your face. You gave a small nod. “Yeah… I didn’t want to say anything before the trial. I knew if you found out, you wouldn’t let me go.” Neteyam ran a hand down his face, breath leaving him in a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Eywa…” he whispered, still trying to take it in. Then he looked at you again, softer now, with something shining behind his eyes. “You did all of that… carrying our child?”

Neteyam’s eyes searched yours, his voice dropping even softer. “How far along are you?” thick with disbelief and wonder. “Twelve weeks.” You said softly to him “Twelve weeks?” he asked, his brow furrowing as the words left his mouth slowly. “That means… when?” You nodded gently, already knowing the realization was catching up to him. “In the cabin,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “When it was just me and you.” His breath caught, jaw parting just a little. “That was… the only time there… that was the first time.” You gave a small smile, heart pounding. “I know.” His hand moved instinctively, fingers brushing over your waist like it meant more now, like he was grounding himself. Then, he gave the softest laugh, part shocked, part amazed. “I left to come home,” he murmured, “and I didn’t even know you were carrying my heart with you.” You let out a small giggle before replying, “if it makes you feel better, I didn’t really know either.”

Three moons passed in a blur of kicks, cravings, and more love than you’d ever known possible. By six months, your belly had become the subject of daily conversation. “That can’t be just one baby,” Lo’ak would mutter, eyes wide as you tried, unsuccessfully to sit up without help. Even Kiri had started side-eying your bump during healing checks, mumbling things like, “Eywa loves symmetry, but this looks like chaos.” Neteyam, ever your calm, dependable anchor, simply kissed your stomach every morning with a reverent kind of awe, as if thanking Eywa for every new curve and flutter of movement. The mauri had changed too. Tonowari and Ronal graciously agreed to extend it, giving you and Neteyam a private alcove tucked just off the main space. It wasn’t extravagant, woven reed curtains for privacy, a bigger mat stuffed with soft moss and shells for support, and bundles of handmade baby things tucked neatly in corners—but it was yours. Home. His family had helped with everything, from carving storage bowls for your cravings, which changed daily, to weaving carriers and netting for the baby.

Tuk had taken to resting her head on your bump to “hear the baby think,” while Jake insisted, he wasn’t crying that one time he caught you and Neteyam napping together, both hands wrapped around your stomach. Neytiri, though still the fiercest voice in the family, had become your quiet guardian, often pressing cool herbs into your hands and rubbing lotions on your stomach to help with stretch marks or whispering bits of Na’vi wisdom about strength, motherhood, and patience. The baby had become everyone’s baby, loved long before it ever arrived. And as you walked slowly along the shore one night, Neteyam’s hand resting instinctively on the curve of your belly, the stars glittered above, and the sea hummed below. Everything felt right. Peaceful. Awaiting. Like the calm before something beautiful.

The mauri was alive with the buzz of an easy afternoon, sunlight slipping through the woven walls, Tuk’s humming filling the space, and the faint scent of grilled fish still hanging in the air. You were planted firmly on your favorite mat, surrounded by soft moss and folded wraps, hands splayed across your belly, which had now grown into a planet of its own.

Kiri sat cross-legged nearby, carving something into a bone pendant, while Lo’ak fiddled with a fishing spear he wasn’t planning to use anytime soon. You gave a long, theatrical sigh. “Guys, I think I’ve officially lost sight of my own feet.” Lo’ak didn’t even look up. “You lost those like a moon ago.” You squint at him “I’m serious. I feel like I swallowed an entire fruit basket.” Kiri smirked. “I’d say two baskets. One for each hip.” You glare at her. “You’re lucky I can’t stand fast enough to chase you.” Tuk popped up next to you and poked your stomach like it was a drum. “It’s so round! Do you think the baby’s sitting up in there with a little blanket and snacks?” Lo’ak chuckled. “Nah, with the way she’s eating, I think the baby’s got its own fruit stash.” You huffed as you tried and failed to sit up straighter. “Listen. If one more person comments on how big I am, I’m rolling into the ocean and becoming one with the waves.”

“That sounds like work,” Kiri muttered. “You haven’t moved in an hour.” You speak up victoriously “Exactly, I’ve reached peak comfort. I’m nesting.” The flap rustled, and Neteyam stepped into the mauri with a bundle of supplies in his arms. He paused when he saw you. His eyebrows lifted slowly. “…Eywa,” he said, crossing the space in a few strides. “Did you… grow since breakfast?” Tilting your head back to smile at him. “Don’t be dramatic,” you said. Lo’ak burst out laughing. “She’s like a growing root fruit.” Neteyam gave his brother a look before crouching beside you, placing a gentle hand on your belly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just slowly transforming into a living canoe.” Jake walked by then, catching the end of your sentence. “You better not be giving birth in the mauri. I just fixed that mat.” You time your head to him, “is that a joke? Are you making jokes? I’m only 6 months!” Kiri snorted, and Neytiri sighed as she passed by, inspecting the curve of your belly. “You should go see Tsahìk. It is getting big fast.” You shook your head without hesitation. “Nope. I’m one with this mat now. She can come to me.” Neteyam offered, already moving to scoop you up. “I’ll carry you,” You push his his arm slightly but not enough to move him away from you, “You lift me one more time and I’m biting you,” you grumbled. “I mean it this time.” Lo’ak snorted again. “She threatened me with a spoon earlier.”

“I will use it,” you said. Tuk nestled into your side and patted your belly softly. “Shhh. The baby is trying to sleep.” You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the space and the sound of your family’s laughter wrap around you. No one was rushing. No one was worried. It was just… love. Loud, playful, comfortable love. Neteyam leaned in and whispered, “I missed you.” You grinned up at him. “I didn’t move. I physically couldn’t.”

Another symptom of your pregnancy was something you didn’t see coming at all. All you did was hit your second trimester and you started to feel everything, anywhere at anytime. It was honestly unfair how good Neteyam looked doing anything. He didn’t have to try. The way he moved, fluid and quiet, like the jungle and ocean had both taught him how, was enough to make your thoughts turn hot and heavy in an instant. Six months into your pregnancy, your body was changing by the day. You were slower now, heavier. But your senses? Heightened. Your skin felt more sensitive, your emotions sharper, and your need for Neteyam… constant. Sometimes it was a dull ache in your chest when he kissed your forehead instead of your mouth. Other times, it burned low in your belly just from watching him tie his armband or adjust the cords on his chest strap.

It didn’t help that he always wore so little. That typical Na’vi wrap sat low on his hips, and the way his muscles flexed when he lifted things, or pulled the net, or even just reached to brush your hair back, it was maddening. Everything about him called to you like a fire. A slow, patient fire that had been smoldering for days. And the worst part? He didn’t even know. He’d crouch next to you and rest his hand on your swollen belly, whisper sweet things to your unborn child, completely unaware of the way your eyes drank him in like water. He’d give you a smile, press a kiss to your cheek, then walk off to hang the day’s catch to dry and you’d be sitting there, clenching your teeth and gripping the woven mat like it had offended you. You wanted him. Not just in passing, not just romantically. You wanted him. And with your hormones tangled like vines and your body buzzing with heat, you knew it was only a matter of time before you either said something or accidentally tackled him the moment he walked through the door.

When Neteyam isn’t around, the need inside you curls tighter and tighter, restless and aching. You think about him constantly — the way his strong hands feel on your skin, how his fingers trace slow, deliberate paths over your body, and how just the memory makes your breath hitch. You long for him with a quiet urgency you can barely control. But when he finally comes back, everything changes. His hands are gentle but sure, sliding softly over your swollen belly, pausing to press light, soothing circles that make your muscles relax beneath his touch. His fingers trail along your sides, tracing patterns only he knows, fingertips brushing your skin so tenderly it sends shivers through you.

He cups your face in his large hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones, grounding you with the warmth of his touch. His hands don’t rush or demand — they ask, invite, and comfort. When he moves down your neck, the soft pads of his fingers knead away the tension you didn’t realize was holding you, his touch slow and reverent like he’s learning your body all over again. His lips follow his hands, pressing gentle, lingering kisses on your skin — small promises whispered in every caress. When he holds you close, you feel his heartbeat steady and strong against your own, a calm rhythm that quiets the storm of desire in your chest. When he finally takes you, it’s slow and careful, every movement filled with tenderness. His hands explore, never hurried, always attentive to how you respond. He listens to your breaths, matching the pace, and with each gentle touch, he eases the burning heat inside you into a soft, sweet warmth. Afterward, he pulls you close, his strong arms a sanctuary where you can relax completely. His touch lingers, fingers tracing lazy circles on your back, soothing and steady, as you drift in the quiet aftermath, still filled with need but soothed by the love and care only he can give.

Nine full months. And still… no baby. You were enormous. Not just big, monumental. Your stomach was stretched tight and high, skin glinting in the sun like the surface of a full moon. You had long stopped trying to see your toes. The little one inside had clearly made themselves comfortable, maybe too comfortable, kicking and shifting with the authority of someone who had no plans of leaving any time soon. You could watch your belly ripple like waves, tiny limbs gliding under the surface. It was mesmerizing. It was also driving you insane. The entire family had shifted around your pregnancy like moons orbiting a planet. Tuk spent every waking moment pressed to your side, resting her cheek on your stomach, whispering stories or making up songs about the baby’s future adventures. Kiri helped you with the finishing touches on tiny woven clothes and baby wraps, her hands gentle and steady, while Tsireya took it upon herself to make sure you were never alone for more than five minutes.

Even Lo’ak was surprisingly helpful — sometimes. He carried whatever you needed, fetched weird cravings without complaint, and made a game out of trying to guess when the baby would come, which he lost every day. Neteyam, though. Neteyam was your calm within the chaos. He built a crib by hand — sturdy, beautiful, covered in etchings of waves and leaf patterns. He’d carved them slowly, patiently, like every mark was a prayer. And at night, when the clan quieted and it was just the two of you, he’d lay behind you, wrap one arm under your stomach and one around your chest, his body curled to yours like a shield. Every night, without fail, he’d lower his head to your belly and whisper to the babies — your babies — as if they were already listening. Already loved. “I hope you look like her,” he’d murmur some nights. “But you’ll have my aim. That’s non-negotiable.” He’d talk until you fell asleep, and sometimes even after.

Lately, even standing felt like a chore. Your body ached in places you didn’t know could ache. Today was no exception — you stood just inside the shade of the mauri, hips tilted from the weight pulling you forward. You groaned under your breath, stretching one hand behind your lower back. Without a word, Neteyam came up behind you and gently curled his arms beneath your stomach. He lifted, just slightly — enough to take the crushing weight off your spine. Your whole body sagged in gratitude. “Don’t move,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut. “Ever.” He chuckled, warm breath against your ear. “I’ll stay like this until the baby decides to come out.”

“You say that like it’s going to happen.” Your voice was sharp, but tired. “I’m convinced they’re building a second womb inside me. Moving in long-term.” He laughed again, kissing your shoulder, his fingers stroking the underside of your belly. There was nothing left to do. The baby clothes were done. The bedding was stitched and soft. The crib sat at the side of your room waiting — beautiful, empty. And the baby still hadn’t come.

By now, the entire clan had learned to give you a wide berth. Not because you were mean — you were just… volatile. Like a storm cloud with feet. A beautiful, radiant, achy, emotionally unstable storm cloud. This baby was stubborn. Eywa must’ve sent you the one child in all of Pandora who was already ignoring orders. And it was so hot. Not even the ocean breeze helped anymore. You swore the baby was cooking you from the inside out. Everyone had offered the usual comforts. Foot rubs. Back rubs. Endless herbal tea. But today, Neteyam came back from a trip to the cliffs with something different. He had built you a floating bed. Not a mat on the water — no, he had actually crafted a low-drifting cradle out of woven reed and soft hide, layered it with cloth, and anchored it in the shallows so it wouldn’t drift far. The water was cool and shallow beneath it. The whole thing rocked, gently, like a cradle for your exhausted bones. “I thought it might help with the weight,” he said sheepishly, offering a hand to help you in. And Eywa, it did. Your lower back eased immediately, pressure pulled away by the buoyancy. The water lapped around the edges as you floated, finally feeling weightless after weeks of dragging around your body like an overfilled satchel. You almost cried.

“Neteyam,” you muttered, laying back, “if you weren’t the one who did this to me, I would marry you right now.” He chuckled and knelt beside the bed, dipping a cloth in the water to lay across your forehead. “So, you’re saying there’s a chance.” But the peace was short-lived. The baby twisted hard, again making your stomach twitch and bulge like something feral was trapped inside. You gritted your teeth. “I love you, little one,” you growled at your stomach, “but if you don’t come out soon, I’m going in after you.” Neteyam looked alarmed. “Please don’t do that.” You huffed. “I’m serious, Nete. This child is playing games. I saw a whole elbow earlier. What are they doing in there? Rearranging furniture?” He held your hand, rubbing slow circles into your palm. “They’re just waiting for the right moment.” You stared up at the sky. “They better not be waiting for a full moon and a prophecy. I’m so done.”

You weren’t sure when the mission began, but at some point, the Sully family had fully committed to Operation: Get the Baby Out. It started innocently enough. Neytiri made a special herbal broth—something passed down through generations of Tsahìk women that was supposed to “gently encourage the little one to find their way out.” You didn’t have the heart to tell her it tasted like wet moss and regret. You sipped it anyway. Jake got involved the next morning. “Back on Earth, we used to do this thing called spicy food,” he said, proudly holding up a bowl of roasted fruit that had been coated in an eye-watering blend of Metkayina chilies. “Guarantees fireworks.” You took one bite and hiccuped for ten minutes straight while Neteyam silently stared at his father like he’d personally betrayed him.

Kiri crafted a sort of lullaby-humming ritual using sound vibrations in the hopes the baby would respond and shift. You weren’t sure it did anything, but Tuk ended up curled up against your side mid-hum, fast asleep and snoring softly, so you considered it a partial success. Then there was Lo’ak. He showed up late in the evening with a wide, suspicious grin and said, “Okay, hear me out—giant ikran flight. We shake this baby loose.”

“Absolutely not,” Neteyam said at the exact same time you did. Still, Lo’ak didn’t let up, and by the next morning, he’d somehow recruited a pair of ilu and a makeshift sling to drag you around the shallows “gently.” Tsireya tried acupressure. A gentle hand pressing into your ankles while you lay back on a woven mat, breathing deeply. “It works for reef women,” she insisted. “Sometimes.” Even Aonung got involved. He brought over what he called a “warrior’s drum chant” that was definitely not meant for inducing labor but did shake the walls and wake the baby enough to get a few solid kicks right into your ribs. You were flattered. Tired. A little emotional. And very, very pregnant. But then, that night, after all the laughter and failed attempts, you were lying on your side with Neteyam behind you, his warm hand gently stroking across your taut belly. He whispered to your baby again, like he did every night, soft, reverent, in a voice so full of love it made your chest ache.

“I think they’re just waiting for the perfect moment,” he murmured against your shoulder. You sighed, equal parts exhausted and grateful. “They better hurry. If I get any bigger, someone’s gonna mistake me for a boulder and offer me as a sacrifice to Eywa.” Neteyam laughed softly and kissed the side of your neck. “Not a chance. You’re too beautiful for that.”

The night air curled in around the edges of your space, warm and salty, brushing against your flushed skin. You lay back in the floating bed Neteyam had built for you, swaying ever so gently with the water below — but it wasn’t the motion of the tide that had your breath catching in your throat. It was him. Neteyam hovered above you, golden in the lantern-light, all lean muscle and low, reverent breath. His braids brushed your collarbone as his mouth dragged slowly down your chest, tongue flicking against the salt-slick skin he’d kissed a hundred times before, yet always like it was new. His hands framed your belly with aching care, his thumbs stroking the sides as if he were still awed that you carried his child beneath your skin. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured against your stomach, lips brushing the taut curve. “Carrying our baby. I can’t stop looking at you.” You whimpered, fingers threading into his braids. “Then stop looking and do something.” He huffed a soft laugh, low and intimate, before crawling up your body with a slowness that made your spine ache. “Bossy, now?” he teased, lips brushing yours. “What happened to patience?”

“Evaporated the moment I saw your hands today,” you breathed. “You know what you do to me…” And oh, he did. Neteyam kissed you deeply, tongue parting your lips as he settled between your thighs with careful weight. Every motion was slow, reverent — his hands on either side of your bump, his body surrounding yours, grounding you. His length brushed where you throbbed with want, and you lifted your hips with a soft moan, needing more. “Easy,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “I’ve got you. Let me take my time tonight.” He moved inside you with aching care, the stretch familiar, welcome, and still enough to take your breath. You clung to him, your body hypersensitive from months of longing — every brush of his lips against your skin, every shift of his hips, every whispered praise sent heat spiraling low in your belly. “You feel so good,” you whispered, trembling beneath him. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promised, pressing kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your mouth. “I’ll give you everything. All of me. Always.” Your bodies rocked in rhythm — soft moans in the quiet, the creak of woven fibers, the faint slap of skin on skin. Your belly shifted between you, round and full, and Neteyam never stopped touching it, his thumb tracing where the baby moved inside. It felt like being worshipped — claimed and loved all at once. You wrapped your arms around his back and gasped as he rolled his hips deeper, slower — just enough to make you shudder.

Then— Sudden, deep pressure. A hard jolt that made your entire core tighten—not in pleasure, but something sharper, tighter. You gasped. Froze. Neteyam’s eyes snapped open above you. “What was that?”

“I—I don’t…” Another wave slammed through you, stronger. Your fingers clutched his shoulders. “That wasn’t you. I think—” Neteyam pulled back just enough to see your face, panic creeping into his expression. “No, no, wait. That wasn��t—?” You winced as your entire body clenched with another contraction. “…Eywa,” you breathed, “I think I’m in labor.” He blinked once. Twice. “…Did I just sex you into labor?” You groaned, laughing weakly through the pain. “Neteyam!”

“I mean—damn, I knew I was good but—” He was already grabbing for your clothes, panicking as he tried to pull himself together. “Okay! Okay, it’s happening! You’re having the baby, I’m—we’re having the baby!” His hands flew everywhere—your hips, your back, your arms—until you grabbed his wrist and dragged his face back to yours. The second contraction came like a crashing wave, stronger than the first, cutting through your spine and tightening around your swollen belly. You hissed, breath stolen, your hands clutching at Neteyam’s bare shoulders as your legs trembled beneath you on the floating bed. Neteyam moved fast, panic under his skin but his hands steady. “Okay, okay—hold onto me,” he murmured, kneeling beside you as he grabbed the nearest cloth wrap and quickly dressed you. He was gentle, pulling the soft fabric over your hips, adjusting it over your belly without hesitation, lips brushing your temple even as you gritted your teeth against the pain.

He threw on his own loincloth the movement swift, practiced, even though his hands were shaking now too. The second contraction hadn’t even fully passed before he swept one arm under your knees and the other behind your back. “Let’s get you inside,” he whispered. He stepped from the floating bed to the anchored wooden platform, careful with his footing despite his urgency. The cool night air clung to his skin, and you buried your face in his neck, gripping the strap across his chest. Inside the mauri, all was quiet—his family still sound asleep in the wide common space. Neteyam’s footsteps were soft but quick as he carried you through the dim, woven light, toward the private room you both shared. You let out a long breath—until the third contraction struck. A sharp, involuntary cry tore from your throat. It was louder than you meant, loud enough to bounce off the walls of the mauri. Someone rustled. Then— “Neteyam?” Neytiri’s voice came first, sharp and immediate, followed by the sounds of her rising swiftly to her feet. She stepped into the soft light and caught sight of him just as he turned the corner into the private space. She stopped in her tracks, eyes wide. “Is it—?”

“She’s in labor,” Neteyam said over his shoulder, his voice tight and low. “Third contraction just hit.” Behind her, Kiri sat upright, blinking through sleep. “What? Wait—wait what?” Lo’ak groaned somewhere behind them, still half-asleep. “It’s the middle of the night…”

“She’s in labor,” Neytiri snapped without looking at him, already moving toward you, calm but urgent. Jake’s voice joined the shuffle. “Shit, I knew it’d happen like this.” He groaned out sleepily. “Language,” Neytiri barked. “Sorry.” Tuk stirred next, confused and curious. “The baby’s coming?!” she gasped, scrambling up and pressing her hands excitedly over her mouth. Kiri was already pulling her hair up, tossing you a supportive look as she moved toward the shelves. “We need Tsahìk.”

“I’ll go,” Neteyam said quickly, already lowering you onto the bedding. “Stay with her.” Neytiri crouched beside you in a flash, brushing your damp hair back as you caught your breath, her touch steady. “We’ve got you, ma’ite,” she said, her voice a calming anchor as you braced for the next wave. Another contraction slammed into you like a wave crashing against rock, making your whole body tighten and tremble. You cried out despite yourself, curling forward, the tension sparking through every muscle. Neytiri was instantly at your side, hand wrapped around yours, the other brushing damp hair from your face. “Stay with me, ma’ite. Breathe. Let it move through you.” Kiri sat close, whispering calmly as she wiped your face with a cool cloth. “Almost there. You’re doing amazing. It’s just your body opening. Let it happen.”

Jake knelt behind Neytiri, eyes sharp and locked on you. His face was tight with concern, even if he tried to mask it with his usual calm. “That one sounded rough,” he muttered. “She’s fine,” Neytiri said without looking at him, focused entirely on you. “Strong contraction. It’s good.” Lo’ak stood a little off to the side, tense, his arms folded and jaw tight. He didn’t know what to do, clearly overwhelmed—but he stayed, hovering near. Tuk was tucked against his side, clinging to his arm and watching everything with huge eyes. “She’s really hurting,” Tuk whispered to Lo’ak, her voice small. Lo’ak dropped a hand to her head, ruffling her braids gently. “I know, Hì'i tsmuke. But she’s strong. She’s okay. The baby’s just stubborn.” Tuk peeked past him again, concerned but trusting. “Will it hurt the baby?”

“No,” Lo’ak said quickly, quietly. “Just takes a lot to bring them here.” Just then, the flap of the marui rustled and Neteyam reappeared, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. He stepped aside just in time for Tsahìk, to enter in a rush, her presence like a steady wind cutting through panic. Tsireya was right behind her with a basket of herbs and supplies. “She is not crowning yet?” Ronal asked, kneeling beside you without hesitation. “Not yet,” Neytiri answered, sliding aside for the healer. Ronal placed her hands on your belly and closed her eyes. “The body is progressing. The baby is low but not ready. You must hold on. Do not push yet.” Tsireya moved gracefully, placing fresh cloths down beside Kiri and offering you a soft, encouraging smile. “You’re doing so well. It won’t be much longer.”

Neteyam was beside you again in an instant, slipping behind you to support your back, his arms strong around your belly as he lifted some of the weight. You sagged against him, heart pounding, and he murmured against your temple, “I’ve got you. You’re almost there, yawne.” Jake moved beside Ronal, taking one of your feet in his hands and rubbing slow circles to soothe the muscles. “You’re okay, babygirl. You’re not alone. We’re right here.” Another contraction ripped through you like fire. You hissed, cried out, and arched your back. Kiri’s eyes went wide. “That one was different.” Ronal nodded. “Yes. Her body is opening now. Be ready.” The marui was filled with motion, hushed voices and steady hands. Amid the chaos, Lo’ak quietly knelt to pull Tuk into his lap, shielding her view with his body as she clung to him. “What’s happening?” she whispered again. Lo’ak bent close to her ear, rubbing her back. “The baby’s almost here, Tuk. She’s doing good. Just be brave a little longer, okay?” Tuk nodded seriously, staying close, her little hand wrapped in her brother’s. And through it all, you clung to Neteyam’s warmth behind you—his breath on your skin, his heartbeat against your spine, as the most sacred moment of your life barreled closer.

The room felt tighter with every passing moment — bodies moving, voices trying to comfort, the rhythm of activity surrounding you like crashing waves. But Ronal, eyes sharp and steady, suddenly lifted her hand. “Everyone out,” she commanded, her voice calm but firm. “Now.” There was a pause — a ripple of surprise — but no one dared argue. Jake hesitated for just a moment, eyes darting from you to Neteyam, then to Neytiri. When she gave him a nod, he gave your shoulder a final reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got this, kid,” he murmured to you, then kissed Neytiri’s temple and stepped away. “Come on, Lo’ak, take Tuk.” Lo’ak gently scooped up Tuk, who gave you one last wide-eyed glance over his shoulder as she clung to his neck. “You’re gonna be a mama soon!” she whispered excitedly, and then they were gone, slipping out with Kiri behind them. The marui flap rustled closed, and the world fell quiet. Only four remained now: you, Ronal, Neytiri, Tsireya, and Neteyam, who had not let go of you for a second.

Ronal knelt back down beside you, her hands sure and smooth as she pressed against your belly. “This is where we focus,” she said. “Only what matters. Her body is nearly ready.” Neytiri moved to your other side, her grip tightening gently on your arm. “You are not alone, ma’ite. We are here.” Tsireya quietly lit a fresh coil of calming herbs, the sweet smoke curling through the space like a soft hand smoothing tension from the air. You let your head drop back against Neteyam’s chest as another contraction built, the pressure turning sharp and relentless. You cried out and his arms tightened, his lips brushing against your cheek. “Breathe. I’ve got you. Right here. Just let me carry it with you.” His voice was soft but unwavering. One hand cradled your belly, the other gripped your hand tightly — and for a moment, all that existed was that circle of presence. You. Him. Your mother-in-law. And the girl who had been like a sister.

The hours blurred together in a haze of sweat, pain, and whispered reassurances. By sunrise, your body had already begun to tremble under the strain. The contractions were brutal, rolling over you like crashing waves—deep, dragging, and sharp enough to take your breath away. You clung to Neteyam like a lifeline, your forehead pressed to his chest, nails digging into his arms, sweat dripping down your temples. He stayed with you, steady and calm even as exhaustion carved shadows under his eyes. He whispered to you, words only meant for your ears: “You’re doing so good,” and “Just a little longer, she’s almost here.” Neytiri remained like a statue of grace at your side, wiping your brow with cool cloths, her tone calm, her eyes fierce with maternal pride and worry. Tsireya worked quietly, refreshing water basins, fetching what Ronal needed, her hands trembling only slightly.

As midday settled in and the heat thickened in the marui, Jake stepped inside with a carved bowl in one hand, Tuk clutching the hem of his loincloth with the other. “She still hasn’t come?” he asked gently, setting down the bowl of broth and water nearby. “No,” Neteyam said, his voice hoarse. “But soon.” You groaned through another contraction and Tuk hurried to your side, resting her small hand on your leg. “You’re being so brave,” she whispered, her eyes big and sincere. “Is the baby almost here?”

“It’s trying,” you managed between gritted teeth. Lo’ak ducked in behind them not long after, carrying another cloth bundle, clean wraps and a waterskin. “I thought this stuff would be over by now,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. But he softened when he saw you. “You good?” You didn’t answer—you were halfway through another contraction—but Neteyam nodded. “We’ve got it.” Kiri came next, brushing past Lo’ak with more urgency and care. She crouched near you, inspected your face, then pressed her lips together in sympathy. “You’re doing amazing,” she murmured, pouring cool water into a wooden cup and helping you drink. “I don’t think I could do this.” They stayed only for a few minutes each time—no one lingering long in the heavy, charged air of the marui. But they kept coming back. Checking in. Bringing cool towels, quiet encouragement, water, broth, little things to ease the unbearable wait.

As the second night began to fall, you could barely speak. You’d sobbed through another unbearable contraction, knees buckling, nails clawing at the mats as Neteyam held you upright. He whispered against your cheek, “You’ve come too far to stop now. She’s almost here.” And you wanted to believe it. But the hours had taken their toll. Your body burned. Your bones felt broken. You were sick of breathing. Sick of pushing. Sick of waiting. “I want it out,” you gasped through clenched teeth, tears streaming down your face. “I want it out now.”

“I know, baby,” Neteyam whispered, voice fraying with emotion. “We’re almost there. You’re almost done.” Ronal’s voice broke through the blur of pain, calm but commanding. “It is time. You need to push now.” You barely had the strength to hold your head up, but Neteyam was there, arms locked around your chest, supporting every trembling breath. His cheek pressed against yours as he whispered, “You can do this, baby. Just breathe with me. One more time.” The next contraction rose like fire under your skin, hot, unbearable and you cried out as you bore down with everything you had left. Ronal’s hands moved expertly, steady, guiding. “Good. Again. She is almost here.”

She. Neteyam’s breath hitched. You choked on a laugh between gasps. “A girl?” “Yes,” Ronal confirmed simply, voice unshaken. “Your daughter.” Tears streamed freely down your face. Neteyam pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands shaking where they gripped your arms. “You’re doing it, love. We’re almost there. We’re so close.” Another wave built in your spine—your hips—and you screamed through it, the pressure breaking like a storm. Then, a wail. Piercing. Raw. New. Ronal caught the tiny, slippery body in her hands, expertly wrapping her as she let out her first breath of life beneath the glow of the moonlight. “She is strong,” she murmured, wiping the baby down with practiced ease. “Very strong.” Your heart cracked wide open.

But instead of placing the baby in your arms, Ronal turned and gently handed her to Tsireya, who stood nearby with eyes wide, waiting. You blinked at the exchange, still dazed and breathing hard. “Wait… why—why aren’t you giving her to me?” Ronal didn’t answer. Her attention was already back on your belly. Neteyam noticed first. He shifted behind you, trying to see around your side. “What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

“She is fine,” Ronal replied calmly. “But you are not done. There is another.” Your head turned so fast toward Neteyam he flinched like he’d been struck. “…What?” Your whole body froze. Neteyam leaned forward in disbelief. “What do you mean… another?” Ronal pressed gently on your still-taut abdomen. “You are still contracting. The second baby is smaller, likely hidden behind the first. You are carrying twins.” You stared at her. What?!” you exploded, voice cracking with disbelief and exhaustion. “No—no, no, no! ONE baby! ONE!”

Neteyam, still holding you upright from behind, tensed as if stabbed. “Wait, what—did she say twins?!” You whipped your head around to glare up at him again, feral and wide-eyed. “YOU GOT ME PREGNANT WITH TWINS?!” Neteyam froze. “I—I didn’t know—how was I supposed to know?!”

“You didn’t NOTICE I was the size of a whale?!” you shrieked. “You didn’t think, ‘Wow, maybe one of those limbs kicking me in the ribs belongs to a second baby?!’” Outside the curtain, there was a loud thump. A moment later, Jake’s muffled voice came through. “Shit that’s some strong genes.” Kiri groaned audibly. “Oh great. That explains the constant mood swings. I thought she was gonna bite someone last week.” Lo’ak’s disbelieving cackle followed. “Oh shit.”

“Oh! Can I name the other one?!” Tuk squeaked. Back in the room, another contraction tore through you like fire. You grabbed Neteyam’s arm and yanked him closer, teeth bared. “This is YOUR fault!” you hissed. “You did this to me! I hope you’re proud of yourself!” Neteyam looked like he was about to pass out. “I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t know—Eywa, I thought it was just a strong baby!”

“Well, congratulations,” you snapped. “It’s two. And they’re both trying to claw their way out of me!” Ronal was unfazed as she prepared for the second delivery. “The next one is moving quickly.” Neytiri crouched beside you, brushing your sweat-soaked face. Her lips twitched with a mix of sympathy and amusement. “This will make a fine story.” You hissed through your teeth. “I’ll write it down after I strangle your son.” Lo’ak cracked from outside, “She’s gonna be mad at him ‘til the kids are grown.” Inside, Neteyam tried to whisper soothing things against your temple, but you growled. “Don’t. Speak. I liked you before. That’s over.”

“Noted,” he squeaked.

The second wave hit harder than the last, tearing through your body with a force that made you cry out, back arching despite Neteyam’s steady arms around you. You barely had time to process ronal gently placing your daughter in Tsireya’s waiting arms before the next contraction surged, and you knew. The second baby was coming. “Ma’ite, breathe,” Neytiri whispered from in front of you, her hands firm but gentle on your knees. “He’s almost here.” You were shaking, soaked with sweat, clinging to Neteyam’s thighs as he cradled you from behind—his breath warm against your neck, his voice hoarse as he tried to soothe you through it. “You’re doing so good,” he whispered, “just one more, just one more push, baby, come on.” Your muscles burned as you pushed again, a sob ripping from your throat but then, in the next breath, you felt it. The release. The shift. And then a sound wet, small, and sharp. “He’s here,” Ronal said calmly but clearly, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to exhale with you.

You collapsed against Neteyam’s chest, gasping, heart pounding as the cries grew louder—your son’s first breaths echoing in the space as Ronal gently lifted him, already wrapping him in a soft cloth. He was tiny, streaked with birth, but undeniably alive. Strong. Beautiful. Neteyam pressed his forehead to yours as he let out a quiet, shaking laugh of relief. “A boy,” he whispered, wonder in every syllable. “We have a son.”

Tsireya was already cradling your daughter gently, her face lit with awe as she softly whispered something to the little one, who squirmed and released a tiny, bleating cry. Neytiri, who had taken the boy from Ronal’s hands, held him against her chest with practiced grace, eyes shimmering as she looked between the two newborns. You lay back against Neteyam’s chest, utterly spent, your body still trembling from the hours of labor, but the sight of your children alive and breathing sent waves of warmth surging through your aching limbs. Neteyam’s arms remained tightly around yours, anchoring you in that moment as his lips brushed reverently against the crown of your head. The women moved with gentle purpose. Neytiri and Tsireya cleaned the twins together, using warm cloths and murmuring quiet praises in soft Na’vi as they wiped away the remnants of birth. Your daughter wailed softly in Tsireya’s arms, her tiny fists flailing, while your son made little grunting sounds, already strong in his mother’s hands. Then, together, they returned.

Tsireya came first, stepping close with a radiant smile as she eased your daughter into the crook of your right arm. Her warmth immediately calmed the little one. Neytiri followed, placing your son gently in your left. Your arms adjusted instinctively, with Neteyam’s larger hands helping to steady both babies in your hold, his body curled protectively behind yours. You looked down at them, utterly stunned by how small and perfect they were, blinking at the world with cloudy eyes, as though they too couldn’t believe they were finally here. Neteyam rested his chin against your shoulder, breath warm. “They’re everything,” he whispered, emotion thick in his voice. “Eywa… just look at them.” Neytiri smiled softly and touched your shoulder. “We’ll give you a moment.”

Tsireya nodded, her eyes tender and glassy. “You both need rest… and time to meet them.” You nodded, wordless, barely able to tear your eyes away from your children. Neytiri pulled back the curtain and the two women stepped out, quietly parting the space to let the dim evening light back in. You caught a flash of the family waiting just outside, Jake standing tall, his arms around Tuk who was bouncing with barely-contained excitement, Lo’ak craning his neck, and Kiri with her hands pressed over her heart. Then the flap closed again. Silence fell, soft and sacred.

You guided your daughter gently to your breast, adjusting her with one hand while Neteyam helped steady your son in the other. The little girl latched quickly, tiny mouth working instinctively, and your breath caught in wonder. Neteyam gazed down at your son in his arms, the baby staring up at him as if he already knew exactly who he belonged to. You leaned your head back against Neteyam’s shoulder. “Twins,” you whispered with a shaky laugh. “You owe me so much for this.” He laughed under his breath, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Anything. Everything. You name it.” Then, with both your children in your arms, his arms around you, and the long, quiet night settling in… nothing else in the world mattered. The room was heavy with warmth and silence, lit softly by the filtered glow of morning through the woven walls. The world had narrowed down to just the three of you, four, now and the quiet rise and fall of breath.

Your daughter had nursed first, clumsily but determined, her little fists pressing against your chest. Your son followed soon after, smaller but no less eager, his jaw working slowly as he fed. You held them both across your arms, your body still trembling with exhaustion, but your heart so full it threatened to overflow. Neteyam had been behind you the whole time, arms bracketing yours, holding you steady through the haze of pain, joy, and awe. Now, as both babies drifted into a peaceful post-feeding sleep, he carefully shifted from behind you. His hands lingered for a moment, brushing over your shoulders, before he knelt in front of you, his eyes flicking from your flushed face to the bundled newborns resting against your chest. “You did it. I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, voice thick with wonder. “I’m so tired,” you murmured, leaning slightly toward him. “I know, yawne.” His voice was soft. “Let me take care of you now.” Gently, he helped you lift your arms, adjusting your clothing with delicate precision. He used a damp cloth to wipe away the sweat at your brow, along your chest, and down the curve of your neck, his touch reverent and slow. Then he leaned in and kissed your cheek, brushing his nose against yours, grounding you in the quiet after the storm. “May I?” he asked, nodding to the babies. You nodded, too tired to speak. With grace, Neteyam leaned in and slid one arm beneath the back of your daughter, the other beneath your son. You didn’t hesitate for a moment—your arms just let go since you trusted him more than anyone. He drew them close to his chest, cradling both with wide, careful hands, his thumbs brushing their small torsos as he looked down at them. His breath hitched.

They were so small in his arms, wrapped in the soft woven cloth Tsireya had prepared during those long weeks of waiting. Their skin was a dusky violet, their ears slightly curled, and already they seemed to know his touch, their tiny bodies settling against him with a deep, instinctive trust. “Hi,” he whispered, staring down at them with the softest, most disbelieving smile you’d ever seen on his face. “I’m your sempu.” You blinked, chest tightening at the sight of him—bare-chested, eyes shining, his entire soul pouring into that moment. His mother stood quietly at the edge of the room, watching the two of you with tears in her eyes. She hadn’t said a word, giving you both this time, her hands clasped gently before her. But when Neteyam turned to look at her, she stepped forward silently and brushed a hand over his shoulder. “You are ready,” she said softly, pride brimming in her voice. “You are already everything they need.” He nodded wordlessly.

Then, outside the woven partition, a familiar rustling broke the silence. “She, okay?” came Lo’ak’s voice, muffled but anxious. “Can we see now?” Tuk added, trying to whisper but failing entirely. Neteyam looked at you, waiting for your nod, and only when you gave a tired smile did, he turn toward the door. “Alright,” he called gently. “Come meet them.” The flap lifted, and the rest of the family stepped into the soft light—Jake with one arm around Kiri, Lo’ak and Tsireya hovering protectively behind Tuk, who was already rushing forward, her hands pressed over her mouth in awe. “Oh wow,” she whispered. “They’re so small.” Jake stopped beside Neytiri, quiet but beaming, while Kiri stepped up to the other side of your bed and rested her hand lightly over your shoulder. And in the middle of it all, Neteyam stood tall, still holding both his children against his chest, his eyes flicking back to you with such overwhelming love that your breath caught in your throat.

Lo’ak lingered in the back for a moment, eyes wide, almost like he was unsure if he should intrude on something so tender. But the moment he saw how pale and exhausted you looked—sitting propped up, arms limp now that the babies were in Neteyam’s hold—he moved without a word. He crossed the room quietly and lowered himself beside you, close but careful not to jostle the bedding. His usual swagger was gone, replaced by something quieter, almost reverent. “You okay?” he asked, voice low, eyes flicking over your face. He looked like he’d just run from battle, but his tone was soft as a feather. You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah. Just… tired.” Lo’ak exhaled a sound that might have been a laugh or a sigh—relief, mostly. Then he reached up and gently touched your arm. “You were incredible. Seriously. That was… crazy.” You turned your head slightly to look at him, managing a small, weary smile. “It was.” His eyes drifted to the babies in Neteyam’s arms, and his lips parted in wonder. “So that’s them, huh?” You nodded again, and this time your voice was almost a whisper. “Your niece and nephew.” He blinked, then grinned—wide, real, the kind that brought all the youth back into his face. “That sounds so weird,” he said, then looked at you with something gentler. “But kind of amazing.” Tuk had crept to Neteyam’s side, peering eagerly up at the sleeping twins. Kiri knelt behind her, watching closely, hands folded at her chest while Tsireya kneeled on the other side of Neteyam. Lo’ak reached out, just barely brushing his knuckles against your hand. “You did good, big sis,” he said, a quiet kind of pride in his voice.

You laughed softly, but the tears still came, uninvited and warm. You hadn’t realized how much you needed your little brother right there, in that moment—someone who had seen all your battles and bruises, now sitting beside you when you were at your most raw and real. And just across from you, Neteyam glanced up, eyes meeting yours—still holding both his children with the same tenderness he always held you. Lo’ak had settled right beside you on the floor, careful not to jostle you as you leaned back against the mound of soft woven blankets. You were still sore, your body aching and your belly round but deflated—like it hadn’t quite gotten the message that its job was done. Lo’ak tilted his head, staring at it with that very specific older-brother-who-has-no-filter expression. He slowly reached out and poked it. Squish. You slapped his hand with a tired glare. “Lo’ak.”

“What?” he laughed, eyes wide in mock innocence. “It’s just… it’s still there! But it’s like, not baby hard. It’s like…” he poked again—faster this time to avoid another smack. “It’s like a sack of warm jelly.”

“Say one more thing and I’ll make you carry them for nine months next time,” you grumbled, elbowing him half-heartedly.

“Hey, hey, I’m being supportive,” he said, hand to his chest like he was deeply offended. “I’m bonding with my nephew’s former apartment.” You let out a breathy laugh despite yourself, too tired to argue. “That apartment just ruined my spine and cracked my ribs. Show some respect.” “Respect to the jelly sack,” he said with a bow, then instantly ducked when you tried to smack him again.

Across the room, Neteyam stood with his parents, gently transferring the babies into their arms for the first time—Neytiri’s face awash with emotion, Jake looking both proud and terrified. Kiri and Tsireya leaned over Tuk, who was carefully holding a baby’s little foot between her fingers like it was made of starlight. But your moment, right here—sweaty, sore, and barely stitched back together—was somehow perfect in its ridiculousness. Especially with Lo’ak beside you, smirking and still watching your belly like it might suddenly deflate with a whoosh. “Tell Neteyam I want ice,” you muttered. Lo’ak grinned. “On it. Ice for the jelly sack.”

Neytiri sat with the baby girl tucked against her chest, her expression soft and reverent as she gently rocked the tiny bundle. Across the marui, Jake held the boy, his massive arms cradling him like something sacred. The tension of the long night had passed, replaced now by a thick, honey-sweet quiet. Sunlight filtered through the woven walls, casting golden dapples across the floor. The waves whispered in the distance. Peace had returned. You leaned into Neteyam who had same to sit on the other side of you now, utterly spent, with his arm draped across your shoulders and his cheek resting against your hair. Neither of you said a word—just watching as your family took in the tiny lives you’d brought into the world. Tsireya was crouched near Neytiri, her hand resting lightly on your knee, as if grounding you. Kiri sat nearby, legs crossed, eyes soft with wonder. Lo’ak had let Tuk climb into his lap, her head resting against his chest while she peeked at the babies with wide, curious eyes. Jake was the one who finally broke the silence. He smiled as he looked between the two infants in his and Neytiri’s arms and said with a quiet warmth, “So… what are their names?” You and Neteyam shared a glance, and he smiled, still glowing, still looking at you like you were the most incredible thing Eywa had ever made. He nodded for you to speak.

You swallowed, heart full. “Her name… is Ayula,” you said, voice soft. Neytiri gasped gently, her fingers stroking the girl’s cheek as she repeated, “Ayula…” Her eyes welled with emotion. “A beautiful name.” You looked to Jake, still holding the boy with proud, careful hands. “And his name is Niväk.” A beat passed, thick with feeling. Jake gave a low, approving hum. “Ayula and Niväk,” he echoed, eyes shining. “Perfect.” Tsireya let out a soft, joyful laugh. “They’re beautiful names,” she said, reaching out to lightly touch your arm. “Fitting for such beautiful little souls.” Tuk blinked up from Lo’ak’s lap, whispering the names to herself in wonder. “Ayula… Niväk…”

“They sound like they were born from the sea,” Kiri said gently, smiling at you. “Like something Eywa whispered.” Neteyam’s hand squeezed yours, his lips brushing the side of your head. “They’re already loved,” he murmured. “So much.” And around you, your family wide-eyed, tearful, glowing, held your children like treasures the ocean had carried in just for them.

The weeks blurred into moons, and though the exhaustion was real, sleepless nights, sore limbs, milk-stained wraps, quiet crying at dawn, there was also an overwhelming softness to it all. Your body had changed in ways you never expected. Your belly, once impossibly round, flattened over time, but your figure was different now. Your hips had widened, your thighs had a new weight and strength to them, and your chest, full of milk, pulled your shoulders forward in a way that made your silhouette curve like a wave.

At first, you felt uncertain in your skin, like your reflection didn’t quite belong to you. But Neteyam never let that feeling last long. From the moment your healing allowed him to touch you more freely, he became obsessive, reverent. His hands were everywhere, slow and worshipful. He’d run his palms over the new lines of your waist like he was learning them from memory, always lingering at the dip of your lower back or the soft slope of your hip. Sometimes you’d just laid Ayula or Niväk down in the crib and turn to leave, only for him to pull you back against his chest, pressing you gently into the carved wood frame, lips brushing your neck. “Look at you,” he’d murmur, low and heat wrapped. “How could you think you’re anything less than perfect?”

Other nights, long after the babies were asleep and the world was quiet except for the tide, he’d follow you as you moved about the room. His hands would come to rest at your waist, fingers spreading possessively, thumbs stroking slow circles into your sides as if you might disappear. “You were always beautiful,” he said one night, his voice rough with sleep and longing. “But now… now, you’ve never looked more powerful. More…mine.” It made something shift in you. Every time he looked at you, touched you, whispered things only you were meant to hear, you didn’t just feel desired—you felt sacred. Like every curve, every scar, every soft place your body carried after birth was a mark of love, of pride.

Even in the chaos of new parenthood, he found ways to sneak those touches in. A hand smoothing over your hip as you passed, lips brushing the back of your neck while you nursed, fingertips grazing your thigh beneath the woven wrap at dinner. It never stopped being tender. Never stopped being Neteyam showing you—in a thousand quiet ways—that to him, you weren’t just the mother of his children. You were everything.

You were just laying Niväk down in the woven seaweed-lined crib next to his sleeping sister, Neteyam had crafted with his own hands, when those very same hands slipped around your waist from behind.“Babies are asleep,” he whispered, voice low and dangerous against your ear, “but I’m wide awake.” You rolled your eyes, smiling anyway as his palms smoothed over your hips, slow and possessive. “You said you were going to help clean the fish, not try and start something in front of the children.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, pressing closer until you felt the heat of him through your wrap, his nose nudging behind your ear. “You walk around here with these new curves like you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” He started to press soft kisses along your neck, hands sliding up your sides, then. “EW.” You both froze. Lo’ak stood in the entryway, face twisted in horror, a carved toy in one hand and a stunned Tuk peeking from behind him. “Bro. BRO. She just put the baby down. What is wrong with you?!” Neteyam groaned and dropped his forehead to your shoulder while you stifled a laugh. “I swear, you’ve got like a five-minute timer before you go full feral,” Lo’ak continued, walking past with exaggerated disgust. “The woman just gave birth and you’re out here trying to plant a whole other set of twins—”

“Lo’ak,” you choked out, covering your mouth to keep from laughing too loud. Neteyam pointed at him over your shoulder. “I will fight you.”

“You’d have to let go of her first,” Lo’ak quipped. “Which, honestly, I don’t think you’re physically capable of anymore.” Tuk giggled. “Neteyam loves her sooo much.”

“Thank you, Tuk,” Neteyam muttered, deadpan. “You’re the only one who gets me.”

“You’re disgusting,” Lo’ak called from the other side of the room. “Get a tide-hut.”

A couple weeks later, you were nestled on the woven floor mat, back resting against Neteyam’s chest as Ayula slept soundly in your arms and Niväk rested snugly in his. The mauri was peaceful, dim with the soft gold of the setting sun peeking in through the thatch. You’d been soaking in every second of these quiet moments, and frankly, you weren’t ready to give them up. That peace, however, was promptly disturbed by Kiri breezing in with the casual force of a storm. “Sooo… what are you two wearing to the clan gathering tonight?” she asked far too innocently, already scanning your baskets of folded wraps like she was going to dress you herself. You blinked up at her. “We weren’t planning on going.”

“You weren’t—” Kiri blinked like you’d just said you hated Eywa. “But… it’s the first big gathering since the babies were born!” Neteyam spoke mildly, adjusting his arm around Niväk. “We don’t really feel like putting on beads and smiling at people.” Kiri opened her mouth to argue, but then—“I can help!” Tuk’s voice piped up from the entrance. She bounded in barefoot and practically vibrating with excitement. “Kiri said I could help rock the cradles and tell them stories and—and maybe feed them just a little—” You and Neteyam both stared at her, then slowly looked at Kiri, who was suddenly very interested in the patterns on the baby wraps. “…Why are you two so eager to babysit?” you asked slowly, narrowing your eyes. “No reason,” Kiri said a little too fast. “Just thought you two might want a little break. Some time to feel like humans—uh, people—again.”

“Also,” Tuk added helpfully, “Lo’ak says you two act gross and romantic when no one’s watching so you probably want alone time.” You made a strangled sound as Neteyam choked back a laugh. “That little skxawng,” you muttered. Jake suddenly leaned into the entrance. “You going or what? Your fan club’s been asking about you.” Behind him, Tsireya waved gently, already dressed in soft ocean-toned beads. “I told them you’d show. Everyone wants to see you. You’ve both been missed.” Neytiri added as she stepped inside, her voice warm but firm, “You need to rejoin the village, even if it’s just for a few hours.” You glanced down at your children, warm and asleep in your arms and Neteyam’s. Then to Tuk, who was clasping her hands in hopeful excitement, and Kiri who was — very obviously — not making eye contact. “…If anything happens—”

“I swear we’ll come get you,” Kiri promised. “You’ll be ten steps away at most.” Neteyam exhaled a breath beside you, nudging you gently. “Come on, ma yawne. Let’s just go. Say hi. Eat something without one of them strapped to us.” You hesitated one last second… then nodded. “Fine,” you said. “But we’re not staying long.” Tuk squealed with joy and immediately ran to get the small woven toys from the shelf. “We’re gonna have so much fun!” You watched her buzz around while Kiri prepared the sleeping mats, and you leaned over to whisper to Neteyam, “They’re definitely up to something.”

“Oh yeah,” he whispered back, grinning. “But we’ll deal with it later. Let’s go pretend to be rested.” Tsireya’s hands moved quickly but gently, smoothing the ceremonial fabric into place around your hips. The rich indigo wrap clung just right, held firm by a braided belt adorned with mother-of-pearl and carved beads shaped like droplets of rain. She adjusted the shell-lined shoulder straps, giving you one final glance before stepping back. “You look like you belong in the center of the circle tonight,” she said softly. “They’re going to see it too.” You looked down at yourself, polished, prepared, painted. Your skin was marked in subtle ceremonial patterns, barely visible unless caught in the light. It wasn’t just a gathering tonight. It was your return. Outside the curtained doorway, you heard the murmur of familiar voices. Kiri’s soft laugh, Tuk’s small excited voice, Lo’ak speaking low. Another voice was there too, quieter but steady. Neteyam. You glanced at Tsireya. She gave a knowing nod. “Come on. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

You stepped out into the open air of the main space. The light was low, the warm flicker of woven lanterns casting gold across the walls. Just a few paces ahead, Neteyam stood with his siblings, speaking in a hushed voice. Tuk was hugging a small woven blanket to her chest, beaming. Kiri stood beside her, arms folded but smiling, eyes soft. Lo’ak nodded along as Neteyam said something you couldn’t quite hear. Then Tuk noticed you. Her eyes went wide, and she gasped softly. Kiri followed her gaze. Lo’ak turned. And then Neteyam did. His words stopped mid-sentence. His gaze locked onto you—his whole body going still. You watched his expression shift—surprise, reverence, and then something deeper settle into his face. His jaw tensed slightly, his throat bobbed as if he had to force himself to breathe. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. You crossed the space slowly, and as you reached the twins, you crouched beside them. Ayula let out a tiny coo as she stirred, her eyes fluttering open, and Niväk blinked up sleepily from the wrap of cloth that held him close. You kissed Ayula’s forehead gently, then Niväk’s, murmuring low promises you didn’t need to say aloud. Just long enough for them to feel it. Just long enough for you to believe you could leave them, even for a few hours. Kiri stepped forward and rested a hand on your shoulder as you rose. She didn’t say anything either, just gave you a steady nod.

Neteyam was already there when you turned. Closer now. His hand found yours, his touch grounding—warm, firm, careful. “You look like Eywa touched you herself,” he said finally, voice low and full of weight. “I don’t know how to stand next to that.” You raised an eyebrow, a half-smile tugging at your lips. “You’ll manage.” He didn’t let go of your hand. Tsireya and Lo’ak fell in beside you, Lo’ak throwing you a little smirk. “You’re gonna outshine everyone, you know that?” You shrugged. “Not my fault.” Tsireya laughed softly. “Let’s go. They’ll start the gathering soon.” And so, the four of you walked out beneath the wide night sky, your feet brushing the sand and stone path as lanterns swayed above. The sea whispered behind you. The pulse of drums waited ahead.

The firelight from the main bonfire cast gold over your skin, the shimmer of your ceremonial clothing catching every flicker. You stood near a curving reef wall not far from the lounging area, where Jake, Neytiri, Tsireya, and Lo’ak had settled for the evening. Neteyam had stepped away just moments ago to get you something cool to drink — barely ten paces away — but it was long enough. “Damn,” came Aonung’s voice, loud and unbothered, “I knew you cleaned up nice, but this? You look like something Eywa carved just to drive us insane.” You turned slowly, already unimpressed. “That line’s older than your braid.” He grinned. “Didn’t say it had to be original to work.” Before you could respond, Rakan approached more smoothly, his tone lower, more charming. He was one of the warriors who did the trails with you, coming in second place. “Ignore him,” he said, eyes sweeping over you with appreciation. “You look… breathtaking. Like moonlight caught fire.” That made you blink, and, despite yourself, a laugh slipped out. “Okay… that was better.” Aonung groaned. “Oh, come on. That’s what gets a laugh? I bring passion and honesty and get nothing?”

“You bring volume,” you muttered. Rakan smiled, stepping a little closer — but respectfully. “It’s the truth. If Neteyam weren’t already stuck to your side, I’d be chasing you every chance I got.” Aonung crossed his arms. “I am chasing her. Every chance I get.” You rolled your eyes. “Which is why you’re still single.” Aonung laughed. “That’s just because I haven’t caught you yet.” Rakan laughed at Aonung’s bad attempts at making you laugh. “She’s way too fast for you.” Aonung pointed between you and Rakan. “Look at her. She’s glowing. Powerful. Strong. You could probably knock me flat with one kick, huh?” You smirked. “Probably.” He grinned. “That’s hot.” Just then, Rakan tilted his head. “Honestly, though? I don’t know how Neteyam doesn’t explode every time he looks at you.” Aonung nodded, grinning like an idiot. “Right? He’s holding the sun and acting like it’s a torch.” You raised a brow. “It was a little dramatic.” Rakan shrugged, stepping slightly closer—but not overstepping. “For you? Worth it.” Aonung leaned in too. “Let’s be real. You need someone who can keep up. I could carry you out of here and still win a fight after.”

“She could carry you,” Rakan muttered. You fought another laugh, and Rakan saw it, eyes lighting up. “See?” he said softly to you alone. “That smile’s worth the teasing.” And that’s when Neteyam saw it. From the distance — just a few steps away, drink in hand — he slowed. His eyes caught the scene like a snap of thunder: Aonung puffed up and posturing, but you were angled slightly toward Rakan, smiling. Laughing. Not at Aonung’s antics. Not uncomfortable. But warm. A little flattered. Neteyam’s jaw ticked.

Over on the lounging mats, Lo’ak noticed immediately, elbowing Tsireya subtly. “Uh-oh.” She followed his gaze, eyes widening. “Oh, no. Neteyam saw it.” Neytiri looked up next. She didn’t say anything, just tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly as she watched her eldest son pause mid-step. Jake chuckled quietly, not even looking. “That posture means someone’s gonna regret opening their mouth.” Tsireya leaned in closer to Lo’ak. “Do you think he’s more jealous of the flirting or the laughing?” Lo’ak grinned. “Both. But mostly the laughing. He’s territorial.” Back near you, Neteyam closed the distance in silence, stepping up behind the two males just as Rakan leaned in with another low compliment. “Honestly, if you were mine, I don’t think I’d ever stop looking at you.” Without hesitation, Neteyam cut in — voice low and cold. “Good thing she’s not yours.” Both Rakan and Aonung flinched slightly as they turned. Neteyam handed you the drink without looking away from them, slipping his arm around your waist with casual finality. “Neteyam,” Aonung said with a laugh, raising his hands. “Relax. We’re just talking.” He tilted his head, eyes still on Rakan. “She was laughing.”

“She laughs when she’s amused,” Neteyam shot back. “That doesn’t mean you’re funny.” Rakan straightened slightly. “I wasn’t trying to take her. Just complimenting something beautiful.” Neteyam’s voice was sharp. “Then go compliment a rock. You’ll have better luck.” Aonung laughed. “Stars. He’s in rare form tonight.” You glanced up at Neteyam, catching the tightness in his jaw, the tension in his arm still wrapped around you. It wasn’t anger. Not really. It was possessiveness, hot and focused and entirely for you. Rakan looked at you one last time, softer now. “Didn’t mean to step on anyone’s toes.” Neteyam’s eyes flicked to him. “Try it again and I’ll make sure you land on your back.”

Lo’ak snorted from behind you, failing to hide it with his palm. “There it is.” Jake sighed through his teeth, sipping from his cup. “Smooth. Real smooth.” Tsireya smiled, watching with her chin on her hand. “It’s kind of sweet how unhinged he gets for her.” Neytiri gave a soft, knowing hum. “He doesn’t see anyone else when she’s in the room.” The two warriors backed off — Rakan more gracefully than Aonung, who rolled his eyes dramatically before leaving. Neteyam finally turned to you, his jaw still tense, but his eyes softening. “You okay?” You nodded, pressing a hand against his chest. “Are you?” He huffed a breath, the edge finally cracking. “I hate when they make you laugh.” You smirked. “It was one line. And it was funny.” He dipped his head closer, lips brushing your temple. “Then I’ll be funnier.” You smiled, fingers slipping into his hand. “You don’t have to be. You just have to stay right here.” His grip tightened like a promise. “Always.”

After that flare of tension with Rakan and Aonung, Neteyam hadn’t left your side once. Still, he’d softened again, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back as you spoke with one of his old sparring partners and another hunter you vaguely recognized from training. They’d congratulated you on the birth of the twins, teased Neteyam for “finally settling down,” and it was all warm and lighthearted again. Until the music changed. The beat slowed, mellowed — the drums fading under the breathy rise of wooden flutes and the rhythmic snapping of palm fronds. The crowd around the bonfire shifted. The laughter eased into something quieter, more reverent. Couples began to step out into the ring: not for a showy dance or ceremonial display, but something slower. More intimate. Neteyam leaned down to your ear, voice gentle. “Dance with me?”

You looked up, smiling at the softness in his eyes, all the fire from earlier melted into warmth. “Of course.” He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, and pulled you into the circle. The two of you moved together easily, not touching much, but always near. He circled you slowly, mirroring your steps. His gaze never left yours. You could feel the weight of it even when you turned your back or moved a few paces away. When your hands did meet again, palms brushing in the firelight, it was like the world shrank down to just that touch. “I missed this,” he said softly as you turned. “Dancing?”

“No,” he said. “You. Smiling like this.” Your chest tightened. He wasn’t talking about the smile you gave the others, not the polite kind, not the one you wore during conversation. He meant this smile. The real one. The one that only rose when your whole body relaxed. “Then don’t stop giving me reasons to,” you whispered back. He spun you lightly. “Never.” Your bodies moved with the slow rhythm, feet bare, steps easy and familiar. The energy of the celebration pulsed around you, but here, in this little pocket where only he existed, everything felt calm. “You’re staring again,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. Neteyam smiled lazily. “Can you blame me?” You rolled your eyes, even as your fingers toyed with the beads tied into his ceremonial armband. “Yes. I’ve been in this outfit for hours. I’m definitely not at my best.”

“You were at your best the second you stepped out of that room earlier,” he said, lowering his head until his forehead rested against yours. “I almost didn’t let you leave.” You grinned. “Almost?”

“I’m trying to be less possessive.” You leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Hmm, you’re doing a decent job.” You danced a little longer, until the drums slowed and finally gave way to the gentle hush of night. Around the fire, clusters of family and friends lounged with half-eaten fruit platters and warm chatter. You and Neteyam eventually drifted to join them — settling onto a woven mat beside Jake and Neytiri, who’d taken turns teasing you both about how quiet you’d been lately. “Because they’ve been too busy sleeping whenever the babies do,” Neytiri said knowingly, sipping from a carved shell of fruit water. “I remember that dazed look. It means exhaustion.”

“She’s still sharper than most of us,” Jake muttered, tilting his head at you with a grin. “Saw you handle that hunter from the reef clan earlier. What’s his name? Roka-something?” You snorted. “Rakan. And I didn’t handle him. I just… didn’t entertain him.”

“Mhm,” Neteyam hummed, smirking as he handed you your drink. “Handled.” Time passed in slow waves — the music drifting into softer melodies, the conversations mellowing. Lo’ak and Tsireya had disappeared at some point during the last hour, but neither of you really noticed or cared. It was too peaceful. Too grounding. Every now and then Neteyam would touch your hand, or your knee, or just glance your way with that quiet, affectionate look that only he had — the one that said: I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re mine. But after a while… your body started to ache. Not in a painful way, just the deep, steady fatigue that came from birthing twins, dancing in ceremonial clothes, and being away from your children for the longest time since they were born. You leaned into Neteyam’s side, your voice soft. “I miss them.” He didn’t ask who. His arm slid around your shoulders without hesitation, drawing you in as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Let’s go home.” Neytiri smiled as she caught the exchange. “Already?” she asked gently. You nodded. “I think I’m full. Of music, firelight… everything for tonight.” Jake chuckled. “You earned it.” Neteyam stood first and reached down to help you to your feet. He didn’t rush you, didn’t say a word, just held your hand as you said quiet goodbyes.

The walk back to the Sully mauri was quiet — not in the way silence sometimes feels uncertain, but in the way it does when two people are so full they have no need to speak. The moonlight followed you across the pathways of woven coral and bark, your steps light, your body already leaning toward home. When the entrance curtain rustled aside and you stepped into the main space, you felt it immediately. Stillness. No soft baby sounds. No gentle lullabies hummed by Kiri. No rustling or whispering between the sisters. The twins’ little sleep space had been cleared entirely. The woven cradle was gone, the folded cloths they usually slept on vanished. You stopped walking, brow furrowing in confusion. “Where are they?” Beside you, Neteyam let the curtain fall back into place and offered the smallest of smiles. “They’re nearby,” he said, voice quiet. “Safe.” You turned to face him, still confused. “With who?” His gold eyes glinted as he took a step closer to you, the space between your bodies vanishing with one easy stride — the height difference pulling your chin up slightly to meet his gaze. “With our brother, his girlfriend and our sisters,” he said. “In a small mauri just next to this one. Lo’ak and Tsireya set it up with Kiri and Tuk earlier tonight. I asked them to.” Your eyes widened slightly. “You… planned that?” He nodded once. “Every bit of it.”

A breath caught in your throat. “Why?” He didn’t answer with words at first. Instead, he slipped his hand into yours and gently led you toward the private corner of the mauri — your room, the one you’d made yours over the past months. The woven wall parted quietly as you stepped through… and everything felt different. The moment you crossed the threshold, your heart paused. Your room had been transformed. Soft glowing lanterns hung from the upper beams, casting a low amber light across the moss-lined floor. New bedding had been arranged — the familiar woven layers beneath but now shaped into a gentle circle padded with sea-cotton and fresh blossoms. Strands of pale shells and beads from your favorite dive spots hung like starlight from the ceiling. The air smelled like wildflowers, salt, and him. Along the far wall, someone — probably Kiri, had traced quiet spirals in coral powder and pearl dust, sacred symbols for unity, eternity, and Eywa’s blessing. A little shell basin in the corner flickered with bioluminescence, casting dancing patterns of light across the walls like the ocean’s surface at night. Your breath caught. “Neteyam…” He stood behind you now, silent for a moment. And then, his voice came, low, sure, close to your ear. “I wanted us to have this,” he said. “Not just to celebrate what we’ve already done, but to finally do what I’ve wanted since before the trials. Before the twins. Before everything when we were still in the cabin hiding from the world.” You turned to look up at him. He stared down at you with a warmth so deep it made your knees weaken. His hands lifted to gently cradle your face, fingers brushing your cheeks with reverence. “I want to be your mate. Officially. Your husband before Eywa.”

“No more waiting,” he whispered. “No more halves. No more being yours in pieces. I want all of it. You. Me. Our family. Our bond.” He took a slow step back, golden eyes never leaving yours, and reached for his queue. You mirrored him. Your hands found your braid, fingers trembling just slightly as you pulled it forward. No hesitation. No fear. Only love. He dropped to one knee, gently, eyes still on yours, not out of tradition, but out of devotion. And when your queues touched and Tsaheylu was formed. Everything surged.

In an instant, you felt him, and he felt you. Not just emotions, but everything. The way your heart trembled with love for him. You leaned down hands holding you up against his shoulders like the feeling made you drunk in love with him. The memory of him weeping in the sand before your first trial. The fluttering joy when you felt your babies kick for the first time. The quiet ache of fear you carried during recovery. Your unwavering need for him. And he — oh, Eywa, he was a flood. His pride. His awe. His hunger to protect you. His joy. His worship. His love, not gentle, not soft, but absolute. Wild and permanent. When you opened your eyes, your breath shook. Neteyam stared at you like you were the center of the world. “I love you,” you whispered. His hands were already cupping your thighs before you finished the sentence, hand squeezing the flesh, like you were something sacred, like you weren’t real. “I feel it,” he murmured, forehead pressed to yours. “I feel everything.” You gasped softly, stunned by how overwhelming it was, how you could feel him even in the places your body didn’t touch, how his love curled inside your chest like it had always lived there.

Then, before you could speak again, he stood up and his lips found yours. The kiss wasn’t careful. It was desperate and loving and real, threaded with everything he felt through the bond. It was all-consuming. You melted into him, your hands at his chest, his arms around your waist, but it wasn’t just physical. It was deeper. You could feel how much he missed you even when you were near, how badly he’d wanted this moment, how long he’d waited to give you everything, finally, without fear or hesitation. His lips moved against yours like he’d die if he stopped. And you kissed him back with the same fire.

His kiss deepened, his hands sliding up your back like he couldn’t decide whether to hold you tighter or just feel as much of you as possible. His breath hitched when your fingers curled into his hair, and through the bond, you could feel it, the ache, the hunger, the way your desire lit something wild in him. When he finally broke the kiss, it was only to drag in a shaky breath. His forehead stayed pressed to yours, his voice low and hoarse. “Eywa… I can’t stop touching you,” he murmured. “Every time I do, it just makes me need more.” Your smile was soft, but your eyes were molten. “Then don’t stop.” That was all he needed. Neteyam’s hands dropped to your waist, and he pulled you close, chest to chest, hips brushing, your heartbeat tangled with his. He kissed along your cheekbone, your jaw, down your neck, each press of his lips slower, firmer, as if he was memorizing every inch. You sighed, tilting your head to give him more, and his fingers flexed against your hips like he was grounding himself.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered against your throat. “I feel everything. You want me… Ewya, you want me so much—” You gasped, warmth flooding through you, and he groaned in response, the sound rolling against your skin, he took a breath. “Your heart racing. The way my voice makes you burn. The way you tremble when I kiss you here—” His lips grazed the spot below your ear, and you whimpered. “And here—” He kissed the hollow of your collarbone, and your knees went weak. “Neteyam—” you laughed breathlessly, your voice already shaking with heat. His hands slid around to your back again, firm and wanting, and he pulled you against him so there was no space left between your bodies. “You think this is funny?” he growled softly, but he was smiling too, voice unsteady with love. “You think teasing me when I can feel everything is fair?”

“Maybe,” you teased, your voice a breathless whisper. He chuckled, a low, raw sound that curled straight through you. “Then I guess it’s only fair,” he murmured, “if I show you exactly what you do to me.” And slowly, with his eyes never leaving yours, Neteyam began to lower you down onto the soft woven bedding below, his touch reverent and urgent all at once, like he was both worshiping and claiming you.

His kiss broke only long enough for him to gasp your name like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world. Then, low and guttural, his voice rasped “Off. I want it off. Now.” You blinked, breathless, not from fear, but the command in him. The heat in his eyes. “Demanding,” you teased, just to see how far you could push him. His mouth twitched into something darkly amused. “You like teasing me?” he growled, voice rough with disbelief. “You’ve been teasing me; every breath you take drives me insane.” Before you could reply, his hands were already on you, firm, worshipful, but not waiting. He tugged at the wrap around your chest like it offended him, jaw clenching as it came free. The fabric dropped to the floor with a soft whisper, and he leaned back just enough to see you.

And then he stared, chest rising and falling like he’d just surfaced from underwater. “Fuck,” he breathed, voice caught somewhere between reverence and ruin. “Look at you. You’re everything.” Your breath shook. You felt it in the bond, the way his desire curled inside him like lightning, crackling and alive. It wasn’t just lust. It was hunger. Need. You tilted your head, cocky and breathless. “What, surprised I still look like this after giving you twins?” That was a mistake — or maybe not. His eyes flared, golden and sharp. He leaned into you again so fast you gasped, hands sliding down up back, rough and reverent all at once. “Don’t joke like that,” he snarled softly. “You don’t know what it does to me.” You laughed, breathy, dizzy from the bond and run your fingers against his braid, weighting the response. “I think I do.” He pressed his forehead to yours, breath ragged. “You’re mine. Not just now, forever. You feel that? You feel what you’ve done to me?” And you did. Every shudder of need. Every thread of wild, possessive love twisting through the bond. His hands slipped lower, thumbs hooking at the waistband of your loincloth. His voice dipped lower, almost cruel in how tender it sounded. “I’m not asking again.”

You giggle and bite your lip before tugging in the knot, loosening the loincloth. Neteyam didn’t waste any time ripping it away from your body and the cool air hit your core sending shivers through you. His lips were against your neck making the bruises he started on even deeper before he moved down to your full tits. You weren’t sure what he would do since you were still breastfeeding, but you definitely weren’t expecting his next move. His fingers slid up your stomach to one of your milk-filled tits and squeezed it. The beads of milk dripped down, over his fingers and down the side of your ribs to the bedding below and you moaned.

Neteyam paused for a moment, his lips on the skin between your tits and his hands cupping them both against his face, they were a bigger handful now than before. His eyes met yours like a predator that knew he won the chase. Your breathing was uneven and shallow. Neteyam could already feel it, he already felt what his little action had done to you, but he never taught you’d get so worked up from him drawing a little milk. “That felt good?” He asked just to confirm in a low, husky voice. You didn’t answer right away but his thumb came back to your nipple brushing the swollen nub and your moans spilled into the quiet and Neteyam breathed it in like it was air. His eyes darkened, chest pressed close as if he needed to feel everything, not just your skin, but the way your body arched under his hands, the way your breath hitched just from his touch.

Neteyam chuckled darkly before darting his tongue out and licking up the mess he made on your skin before circling it with quick, small actions with his tongue. He groaned against your flush skin feeling through the bond and your pretty mewls how good he made you feel. Neteyam sweetly marked his way down your body until he made it to your thighs. Neteyam’s hands gripped your thighs like he owned them, thumbs digging into the soft skin as he spread you open just a little more. His eyes burned as they dragged over you, slow and full of dark hunger. When he spoke, his voice was low, rough, wrecked. “Look at you…” he rasped, leaning in, lips brushing the inside of your thigh. “Already shaking—and I haven’t even started.”

You whimpered, and his tongue flicked out, tracing a path up your skin. He groaned at the taste, his breath hot against you. “You’re driving me mad, baby.” Your fingers tangled in his braids, and he let out a low sound—half growl, half moan. His voice dropped even lower, thick with lust. “You’ve been in my head for days. All I’ve been thinking about is how soft you are right here… how you sound when I have you like this, how much I wanted you.” You arched, and he chuckled under his breath, eyes flicking up to yours. “You like that? Hm?” His mouth ghosted closer, just enough to make you gasp. “Tell me,” he growled, lips brushing where you throbbed. “Tell me you want it.” When your voice caught in your throat, all you could do was moan out, “I want you tey…want you so bad.” That was all he needed. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, like just your voice, your scent, your heat had undone him. “Fuck,” he breathed, voice husky and strained. “I’m not gonna stop ‘til I ruin you.”

Neteyam pressed a sweet kiss on your clit before his tongue invaded your cunt. You let out a loud squeal, you weren’t expecting the slaughter he was about to commit between your thighs. His tongue circled your clit multiple times making you involuntarily buck into his face; your hands slid into his hair tugging at the braids. His mouth sucked in your bundle of nerves which made your thighs tighten around his head, your legs feel over his back and down the side of his body holding him against you. He flicked his tongue with sharp burst of intensity, sending jolts of pleasure up your cunt making you arch off the bedding below. “Eywa, you’re so wet..” he growled against your skin making you vibrate with pleasure. You tried to speak, wanting to express how good he made you feel but your words got chocked up in your throat when you tried.

“Ahh!” You gasped when his long tongue speared into your dripping cunt, your back arched sharply. Hands finding purchases on his arms, shoulder, the bedding then back to his hair, you didn’t know what to do, what to hold onto. “Oh fuck yesss,” you moaned into the air. His fingers moved down to your cunt, using his thumbs to spread your folds open so he could get his tongue deeper, and your eyes roll back. Neteyam didn’t let up for a second, plunging his tongue in and out, it was electrifying. So much so that your back arches up completely thighs tightened even more around his head as your entire body besides your head lifted off the bed.

Neteyam lifted onto his knees with your body, so he didn’t have to pull away, his hands splaying beneath you against your back to keep your body lifted off the bed. His grip tightened as he growled, low and possessive, “that’s it baby…just like that,” his words send ripples up your cunt, his voice was husky and dark with heat, almost wrecked from the bond surging between you. You gasp and your grip on his body became tighter, your nails dug into the skin of his shoulder and you other hand gripped his hair and he felt it, ever flutter, every desperate clench and pulse inside you. And still, he didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. A strained moan escaped him into your cunt, like he was barely holding himself together, the bond crackled like fire between your chests.

Your tail wrapped around his bicep after it lashed around a bit beating against his tone chest to help ground yourself. Your gasped, half moaning his name and he pressed deeper, hungrier, greedier like he was chasing every last tremble in your body like it was the only thing that mattered. One of Neteyam’s hands slides down to your ass holding you firmly, then he moves, his other arm pushing your body up and over his head now holding your weight on his shoulders suddenly you were weightless. You gasped at his sudden movement, your eyes widening and your voice came out as a broken scream while your grip on his tightens even though you knew neteyam would never let you fall. He turned and dropped like he didn’t care how hard he hit the bed and landed in his back his grip remained on your body until your knees sank into the soft bedding. You were cradled over his face, thighs straddling him. His mouth was possessive, hungry. And the motion was fluid, instinctive, like it was practiced, like he knew all along he’d end up beneath you, consuming you like a worshiper.

Your hands leave his body and hit the wall now in front of you as he moans, low and rough. The sound vibrating through your core. This metkayina training really did something with his ability to hold it breath, it was unreal. His younger somehow reached even deeper than it was making your clench sucking him in even more. His voice came out hoarse and hand broken. “Ride it baby.” He spanked your ass making you yelp which turned into a moan. His hands moved you’re your hips, thighs, ass, rubbing along your curves as he encourages you to grind on his tongue. But you didn’t waste anytime pushing your body weight all the way down and onto him, your head rocked back as you stared to grind on his face.

You were messy, hair sticking to your forehead from sweat, fingers digging into the wall as you used it to push yourself back and forth on his face. His tongue still snug in your cunt and his nose bumping your clit so perfectly it made your eyes roll back. You trembled and cried out his name above him. And he doesn’t falter either, his hand switching from running along your curves to slightly pulling on your whipping tail since he knew how much you liked it when he did that. “Just like that baby…don’t stop.” He whispered against your cunt.

Your head dropped and you saw him, looking up at you like you were divine. Riding him felt like fire curling under your skin, hot and slow. The deeper you sank into his touch the more your body lit up. Nerves flickering with pleasure until it was impossible to tell where your control ended and where your instincts took over. His hands gripped your body like he didn’t trust himself to let go, like he might come undone just from watching you. And you felt it through the bond, his hungry, his helplessness, the way he was trying not to lose it while you took him in again and again. Your breath caught as your hips rocked forward harder, deeper. The sensation wasn’t just between your legs, it was in your spine, in your lungs, radiating up through your chest until you were moaning without meaning to. You swore you could feel his moans in return, low and reverent, pulled from somewhere deeper than just desire.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice cracked and husky. “You ride me like you were made for it baby.” And you did. You felt made for it, for him. Every brush of his hands, every breathless curse against your skin, every broken groan when you clenched around him, it only drove you harder. You were high on him, on the bond, on the heat and the rhythm and the way you could unravel each other just by moving in sync. When your head tipped back, your whole-body trembling, he reached up, not to slow you, not to guide, but just to touch, to worship, as if needing to ground himself in the reality that you were his. And you were. Completely.

Then suddenly you started to feel another amplified sensation that overpowered the others. The rhythm of his mouth didn’t stop, if anything, it deepened, dragging you higher and higher until the pleasure felt like too much to hold. Then something shifted through the bond. A sudden jolt, not yours. A hot, tight ache, raw and overwhelming, rushed through you like a second heartbeat pounding under your skin. You gasped softly, dizzy, and twisted to glance over your shoulder. That’s when you saw it. Neteyam’s hand was between his legs, working himself with hungry, almost frantic strokes. His chest rose and fell beneath you, breathless. His mouth never left you, but you could feel it in the bond, his restraint was crumbling. He was drowning in you. A startled little laugh slipped from your lips, breathy and warm. “You just couldn’t help yourself?” you whispered, voice teasing, shaky with pleasure.

You felt the response before he even moved, his grip on your thighs tightened, and he groaned low, his mouth dragging a little slower, deeper, sending sparks all the way up your spine. Then he spoke, voice thick and hoarse, hot against your cunt. “Why don’t you look at me and try saying that again.” Your breath caught. Not loud. Not angry. Just quietly dangerous. A velvet command wrapped in heat, like he was giving you a chance, just one, to surrender completely. To let him show you that you weren’t the only one who could tease. The bond surged again, that rough edge curling through it, his desire, yes, but also his intent. He wasn’t just desperate for you. He was about to remind you who you belonged to.

You turn back and look down at his half-exposed face, his eyes were daring but drowning in pleasure, you bit you smile with a smile and opened your mouth to speak, “couldn’t help yourself mighty warrior?” You giggle breathlessly. His eyes rolled back as you sped up your pace, he knew you were close, and he wanted nothing more than for you to gush in his mouth so he let you grind on his tongue harder and faster, slapping the flesh of your ass for your little smart comment. It hit you like a crashing wave, overwhelming, and blinding in its intensity. Every inch of you tightened, then released in a rush that left your limbs trembling and your chest rising in frantic breaths. It wasn’t just pleasure, it was being undone in the most beautiful way, like something inside you had been waiting for this moment and finally, finally let go.

Your body arched without thought, nerves alight, skin fevered. Your eyes were teary as you became undo above him. The scream ripped through you before you could catch it, breathless, broken and loud. It wasn’t a sound your made from having any control. It was dragged from somewhere deep, like your body couldn’t contain the feeling any longer. It echoed in your ears, but you barely registered it, too lost in the haze, in him. Through the bond, you felt him take it all in. The way it shook you. The way you clung to the feeling. His reaction wasn’t words, it was a storm of emotion flooding through you: possessive, reverent, hungry. That he could bring you to this. That he had.

His hands grip your hips like he owns you, steady and sure, sliding you off his face without a word. He sits up and pulls you close, lips brushing against yours with a soft, relentless hunger. “You’re fucking irresistible,” he breathes, voice low and rough, almost a growl before he kisses you. It was a deep, smearing kiss, you tasted your essence on his tongue as he effortlessly took dominance in the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck ready to straddle him, but he wasn’t about to let that happen. His right arm wrapped snug around your waist spinning you on the bed to put you on your knees in front of him. Neteyam's chiseled abs glistened with sweat as he lifted himself over you, his sculpted chest hovered above your face, those stunning golden eyes burning into yours with primal hunger. "Open your mouth," he commanded, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "I want to feed you."

You eagerly parted your lips and Neteyam slid one of his large hands beneath your chin, tilting your head back slightly. He raised higher bringing his massive cock in line with your mouth. With the other hand, he grasped the throbbing, veiny length of his erection and brought it to your mouth. The engorged head nudged against your plump lips insistently. "Suck," he growled, slowly pressing forward. You had no choice but to accept his thick cock into your warm, wet mouth, not that you minded either way. It stretched your lips wide as he inched further in, the sweet taste of his arousal flooding your taste buds. The moment your lips closed around him, Neteyam’s breath hitched, sharp and low, like the sound was dragged from the base of his spine. His hand slipped into your hair fast, fingers threading tight, not yanking, just anchoring. His head tilted back, a curse falling from his mouth before he growled your name. Through the bond, his pleasure hit like a crashing wave heat, hunger, awe. But underneath it was something deeper. Possessive. Reverent. Almost angry with how much he needed you.

“Look at me,” he ordered, voice rough and shaking. You obeyed, eyes lifting, and he groaned like he could feel it everywhere. “That’s it… just like that.” His hips flexed slightly, slow but deliberate, not to control your rhythm, but to show you who was still in charge. His thumb brushed the edge of your jaw, breath ragged. “Pretty mouth… made for this,” he rasped. “You feel that?” His voice cracked on the end, raw with pleasure and disbelief. “That’s mine.” And through Tsaheylu, you felt how much he meant it, not just the act, but you. All of you. The claiming, the worship, the bond burning hotter with every breath. And he didn’t look away. Not once.

It wrecked him the way you moved, the way you didn’t shy away. Heat coiled low in his spine, spreading like fire as your lips wrapped around him, slow at first, then deeper, hungrier. His jaw tensed. His fingers dragged up into your hair, not guiding, just holding like you were the only thing anchoring him. A ragged breath left him. “Just like that,” he groaned, his voice strained and low, like he’d been holding back for too long. “Fuck… you’re perfect.” Your tongue swirled, your mouth relentless and he cursed under his breath again, hips stuttering once despite his effort to stay still. He could feel you through the bond, all that bold affection, the focused heat, and it turned the pleasure into something deeper. Something molten. Reverent. Then your eyes flicked up glossy, tears threatening the corners and he nearly lost it. “Look at you,” he breathed, wrecked and almost reverent. “Taking me so well.”

His grip in your hair didn’t falter, but his breath hitched subtly, like he didn’t mean to let it out. He tilted his head back just a little, lips parted, golden eyes fixed on you with something feral and soft all at once. “F-fuck—” he cursed under his breath, voice dropping rough and low. He tried to speak again, but your mouth worked him too well, and the next word caught in his throat. When he found it, it came out ragged. “You’re—fuck, you’re too good at this.” His fingers twitched, stroking your cheek with a tenderness that contradicted the tremble in his thighs. He breathed deep, grounding himself, like he needed the weight of you to stay steady. “Look at me,” he murmured, trying to sound in charge and mostly succeeding, though his voice cracked slightly on the last word. You glanced up, lips wet, eyes wide, and he groaned through clenched teeth. “Shit, you’re so beautiful like this. Cryin’ for me and still taking it.” You watched his jaw clench, his control fraying at the edges. “I’m—” he paused again, chest rising like a wave cresting. “Don’t stop— don’t fucking stop.”

Your head bobbed up and down on him sucking on his tip before chocking on his length making you gag. His hand started to control your movements slightly speeding up the pace. You could see above you he was losing it, it was beautiful. The way his head rolled back, and his eyes squeezed shut, but not for long since he didn’t want to stop looking at you. You saw the way he bit his lip when you rolled your tongue round his cock head. It was electrifying, and tenfold through the bond. “F-fuckk yesss tsafya kalin 'eve…” (like that sweet girl) Neteyam stuttered out in a haze. His words caught your attention. You knew he was close now. Neteyam had a habit of slipping into his mother tongue when he was about to cum, and you wanted nothing more than to swallow his load.

“Tsafya ma muntxatan?” (Like this my husband). You pull off his cock just enough to take in a breath and whisper up at him. His tip still pressed against your lips as your breath hit it in effort to catch your breath before going back down on him. You barely finished the last word in Na’vi when his breath hitched, and his eyes snapped to yours, blown wide, wild with heat and something deeper. His hand flexed hard against in your hair like your voice physically struck him. His lips parted. Voice low. Rough. “You speak like that and expect me to stay gentle?” A beat passed. His thumb brushed your cheek again; his gaze locked on your mouth. “Say it again.”

“Muntxatan.” You murmured the word once more, softer this time. His response came fast whispered, wrecked: “Sänrr—what you do to me…” (Fire) Then, in English, almost like he needed you to understand every part of him, “You drive me fucking insane.” Neteyam used his grip and pulled you off his cock and you gasp loudly and pant to catch your breath; your lower face was slick with your spit from how messy you sucked him off and his cock was connected to your lower lip by a string of spit. “What are you—” you start, wanting to know why he stopped you from making him cum. He didn’t answer right away, his eyes were heavy-lidded, chest rising with shallow breaths as he looked down at you, one hand already curling around your waist.

Then, low and rough, almost like he had to force himself to stay gentle, he said. “Because I want more than your mouth, kalin. I need all of you.” Your confusion melted into a flush of heat as he lifted you easily, guiding you up with both hands, still breathless from your surprise, but the bond between you buzzing with intensity. The way he looked at you then, like he was claiming the moment, left no room for questions. His voice dropped lower as he settled back against the pillows of the pretty bedding, eyes never leaving yours.

“Come here. Ride me.” The way he said it wasn’t a request. It was a command. His pointer and middle finger beckoned you closer, with a ‘come here’ motion and you were drunk, entranced. Barely caught your breath but there you were on all fours crawling up to him, slow and sexy like a predator. Neteyam couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way your skin sparkled like stars in the low light, the way your curves moved so perfectly as you came to him like a hunting Thanator, like you were prowling.

Every step you crawled closer, your tail moved like it had a mind of its own, swaying in rhythm with your hips. Your spine dipped just enough to accentuate the shape of your back, the round curves of your body, glowing freckles tracing a trail down your sides like constellations. In the dim light, your golden eyes caught his, bright and sharp, feral and beautiful. Neteyam sat still, breath shallow. His gaze followed every movement, slow and hungry, like his eyes were starving for you.

“Eywa…” he breathed, but it sounded more like a curse than a prayer. “You look…” His voice dropped into a whisper, “…so dangerous like that.” His voice would drop, thick with heat “You’re not playing fair, baby.” You see his throat flex as he swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. But that predator-prey tension would flip something in him, quick. He’d sit up slightly, legs spread, hand flexing against his thigh, fighting the urge to grab you before you made it all the way.

But he doesn’t he lets you come to him, eyes dark and hungry. The moment your hand touches his leg, or your face lifts up to meet his, he’d probably chuckle low and rough. “What are you trying to do to me?” he’d murmur, his fingers already sliding into your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head. “You want to hunt?” he whispers, leaning in close. “Then catch me, txe’lan.” (Heart) Your tail flicked again, sharper this time and he exhaled like he felt it in him. You got closer, eyes half-lidded, and his gaze darted between your mouth, your hands, your tail still moving like it had a mind of its own.

You slowly make your way up his body, a hand on his chest pushing him back to lay down as you moved with him to hover over him. Your right legs had shifts up knee on the side of his waist to bring you closer and your left slotting between his legs. You moved down and his head tilted back instinctively before you lean down and kiss him, deep and slow. Your tongue invades his mouth like you were in control, but you knew he was letting you have the moment. His hands slid up your thighs to your waist over your hips then back down. His right hand even sparked your ass making you gasp in his mouth. You broke the kiss but stayed low with your lips on him, “caught you.” You whispered out with a giggle before moving down to his neck to kiss him making him groan.

Neteyam had done a great job marking you up when it was his turn, but now it was yours. your lips brushing that sensitive spot just beneath his jaw, where his pulse jumps. The sensation stole the breath from his lungs. Then he exhales sharply through his nose, jaw tightening. A low, almost involuntary groan rumbles in his throat. He tilts his head just a little, giving you more access, not because he’s passive, but because he wants to feel it, wants to let you do that to him. And when your lips linger there, maybe with a soft graze of teeth, you feel his fingers tighten on your thighs, grounding himself.

Your lips latch down sucking sweetly in his skin making marks that would definitely be visible tomorrow. You could feel the way his eyes shut and his breathing stutter in the bond, they way he wanted you to do whatever you wanted to him. You move to straddle his lap your cunt now directly sat on his length and he groaned. Your hips dragged along his length as you assaulted the skin around his collarbone, and he was about to lose it. You’re grinding slow, dragging your hips over him with just enough pressure to tease, just enough to make him lose his rhythm.

He groans low in his chest, both hands locking onto your waist, fingers pressing into your skin like he’s trying to stay calm… but failing. “Stop playing with me,” he murmurs, voice rough, breath hot against your neck. His golden eyes are darker now, dilated and burning. “You know what I want.” You smirk, just a little against his skin and roll your hips again. He growls under his breath, then sits up slightly, his chest brushing yours as he tightens his grip. “Ride me,” he says, tone husky but clear. “Properly.” His hand comes down hard on your ass making your tail switch and you let out a loud moan next to his ear. “Rutxe… heyn sìn oe set.” (Please… sit on me now)

You bite your lip and raise off his length reaching your hand between your legs to hold him up then you lowered yourself, slow and deliberate. His cock stretched you out like it was the first time all over again. You can’t believe you went so long without letting him fuck you, cause now you’re about to go crazy. Then quieter, almost in a whisper, lips brushing your ear, his hands move up and down the sides of your body “Take me like you mean it.” The moment you give in, give him what he’s been craving, he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours.

His fingers tighten around your ass, as if grounding himself through the sensation of you. “Finally…” he murmurs, almost like a prayer, voice low and wrecked, heavy with hunger and tension. It’s not just relief, it is obsession, awe, and possession wrapped into one word. His eyes trail down taking in the way your cunt sucks him before his eyes lift to yours, glowing with heat and something dangerously soft. He doesn’t smile. He stares, drinking in every line of your body, the sway of your hair as you start to move in him, the press of your skin against his and your soft moans that fill the air. The bond surges, thick with the weight of everything you both have been holding back.

“Look at you,” he breathes, a touch of reverence in his tone. “Moving like that… for me.” His voice deepens, rough and full of heat. And when your pace draws another moan from his throat, he lets it happen, not bothering to hold back now. One hand slides up your spine, firm, dragging you closer. You wrap your arms around his neck holding him close to you and he sits up sending his cock deeper into you. Your movements still as you let out a broken moan, adjusting yourself you start moving up and down again on his huge cock, Neteyam held you close, gripping your ass, helping you move on him.

Your lips brush his every time you come down taking him all the way until he had enough of the teasing and kissing you. You could barely kiss him back, mewling in his mouth. “Good girl, just like that,” Neteyam stuttered out between kisses. You already felt your thighs getting tired, but he felt so good like this you didn’t wanna stop, Neteyam knew, felt it through the bond and decided to help you. His big hands started to raise your body off his cock and back down onto it. Speeding up the pace. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, and you throw your head back.

Neteyam leaned back on the pillows once more and bucked his hips up into you. You bite your lip to stop from being too loud, “I want to hear you baby, every sound you make.” He said when he saw you, and your eyes rolled when he hit that perfect spot in you. His fingers dug into your ass, and you tail whipped in the hair as he fucked you. You could barely think, “faster—” you moaned out to him, you were so close already and he showed no sign of stopping. Your hands moved to rest in the pillow on both sides of his head and you started to fuck him back. Your mind was blank with pleasure. Neteyam chucked at your obvious drowning in the feeling of his cock. “Fuck baby…harder…come on. Give it to me. Take what you want.”

His right hand found its way rooted into your hair and he pulled your head up making you scream out. “Oh…don’t stop pleaseeee.” You stretch your words screaming them out, “I’m gonna cum…” you whisper into the air, your vision got blurry, and your jaw was slack noises escaping without resistances then he started to fuck harder. Feet planted onto the bedding now fucking up into your harder that before. It made your body bounce above him and you were loving it. “Come on baby, come on my cock...” Neteyam said breathlessly. The coil inside you twisted tighter, then snapped loose with dizzying release with a curdling scream. Neteyam kissed your neck as he fucked your through your high, “that’s it baby, fuckkk.” He groaned against your skin.

His hands slid up and down your thighs and ass, slow and steady, eyes locked on yours like he already knew what he was going to do. “Move for me,” he said lowly, breathless, and deep, but leaving no room for question. You barely had time to react before he was already shifting, one strong arm wrapping around your waist as he turned the both of you with effortless control. The motion was fluid, practiced, like he’d been holding himself back just to do this on his terms. Now above you, he settled his weight just enough to make you feel it, gaze heavy, lips brushing yours without quite kissing. The way he looked at you then, intense, sure, claiming, made your breath catch in your throat. Neteyam’s hands slide down your thighs, firm and deliberate. He pauses just long enough for you to catch the shift in his breathing, low, steady, but focused.

Then, without a word, he leans forward and wraps his arms beneath your knees. His grip is strong as he lifts your legs, guiding them up with ease until they rest over his shoulders. The stretch of it makes your breath hitch, and the press of his body keeps you grounded beneath him. His weight dips closer, folding you inward with him. You can feel the muscles in his arms tighten beside your hips as he settles into the position fully intentional, controlled. He doesn’t rush. He just holds you there, golden eyes locked on yours, his body pressing close enough that the warmth of his chest and the heat of his breath are all you feel. When he finally speaks, it’s low, husky and unshaken. “Right where I want you.”

With your legs draped over his shoulders and his body pressed close, your vision is filled with nothing but the fall of his braids thick, ink-dark strands swaying forward as he leans over you. You can’t see his face, only feel his breath ghost across your skin. You reach up, fingers weaving gently through the strands. He stills for a moment, breath catching not in surprise, but in attention.

You pull the hair tie from your own braid, looped around your wrist, and without a word, gather the upper half of his braids and tie them back, away from his face. It’s not rough, but intimate in its simplicity. When the last loop is secure, you meet his eyes for the first time since he shifted over you. His gaze is molten. A small, crooked grin tugs at his lips, and his voice drops to a rough murmur, almost amused but laced with heat. “That for you, or for me?” Then, leaning in just enough to brush his forehead against yours

“For me…but I’m sure you’re not complaining about having a view.” You smile up at him and giggle softly. Neteyam chuckled along with him before leaning down to give you a soft kiss. Neteyam’s fingers thread through your hair as his lips parts just a little, inviting yours to follow, and the kiss deepens, slow and deliberate. Each movement is careful, savoring the taste, the feel, like he’s memorizing every inch of you. You hear the slight hitch in his breath as desire stirs beneath the calm surface.

His hips shift up and down rubbing his cock against your clit making you squirm and moan against his lips, you were folded in half right now you couldn’t move even if you wanted too. Your hands grip his shoulders as he pulled back lining up his cock without pulling away and slowly pushing in. He curses under his breath at the warmth that engulfed his length. “Oh…f-fuckk” you let out a broken moan from how deep he was at this angle when he bottomed out and grunted.

It’s not just the physical closeness that intensifies the bond, it’s the vulnerability. With your legs pushed up and held against him, Neteyam isn’t just above you, he’s inside you and around you everywhere, all at once. His forearms cage your head, your hands gripped his biceps, and your chests brush with every breath. But the tsaheylu? That’s where it truly ignites. The connection doesn’t just link thoughts; it drowns you in emotion. You feel his restraint like a taut wire pulled to its limit, the primal urge he’s holding back, and the reverence that keeps him gentle.

Every beat of his heart pounds through the bond like thunder in your ribs. And then, suddenly, a shift like a soft burn beneath your skin. You feel him unravel. Not just physically but emotionally. Awe. Desperation. Possession. All of it washes through the bond like a tide, stealing your breath. Your name repeats in his head like a prayer, but even without hearing it aloud, the bond sings it to you. And when you look into his eyes, he’s not just watching you, he’s inside the way you feel, your pleasure bleeding into his own, crashing and folding in one shared, electric ache.

Through the bond, his thoughts pour into you like warm honey, slow, deep, and molten. He isn’t speaking aloud. He doesn’t need to. The connection between you is too thick, too intimate now. And in this moment, his mind is entirely wrapped around you. You feel it instantly. Desire, but not the fleeting kind. It’s the kind that roots itself in the bones, the kind that makes him tremble with restraint even as he presses closer, folding you beneath him like a secret only he gets to keep. “Great Mother…look at you.” He breathes the thought, not with reverence alone, but with ownership, a quiet, aching pride that blooms deep in his chest. “All mine, all of you… soft and spread wide, flushed, trembling under me.” You feel the way he sees you: your body arched and offered up, glowing in the low bioluminescent shimmer, your skin kissed with light, your eyes hazy and fixed only on him.

Your chest rising into his, thighs gripping his sides, your braids trailing beneath you. “You were made for this. Made to fit against me like this.” There’s a hunger in the way he notices everything, how your hips curve, how your thighs feel against his chest, how your tits are pressed together so pretty from the way he holds you exposed, how your breath hitches when he holds you tighter, how your mouth parts in the smallest gasps just for him. “No one will ever see you like this. No one will ever know you like this.” And that possessiveness? It coils tight in his gut, but it’s not jealous, it’s devotional. You’re not a prize. You’re his match, his other half. But still, seeing you like this, willing and open, golden-eyed and glowing, makes something low and feral stir in him. His cock drags along your cunt slowly, feeling the heat radiating off you. “Look at the way you let me have you. Fuck— what did I do to deserve this?” Then softer, like a whisper folded between heartbeats, “you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Oeyä txe’lan… you ruin me (my heart).

You feel like your about to explodes, his thrust had progressively sped up but not how much you wanted it like he was teasing you. Your cunt fluttered around him as you took in his thought, the feeling of his body, the bond, everything. You wanted him to fuck you until you physically couldn’t make a sound and him feeling it through the bind wasn’t enough for you. “Fuck me…fuck me.” You said breathlessly body squirming to get more of him as if you could, your fingers dug into his arms, his back no doubt leaving scratch marks, “ma Neteyam…fuck me harder.” The shift is immediate. Subtle at first, his hips drawing back just a touch farther, his movements beginning to build in power and precision.

Like instinct taking over, like something deeper than thought guiding him now. Where before his pace had been careful, reverent, it becomes deliberate. Driven. His body moves like he’s answering a call only he can hear—like your desire is fueling him, setting the rhythm in his veins. Every motion lands heavier, more grounded, his body rolling into yours with a purpose that feels almost primal. His chest brushes yours with each breath, muscles tightening as if trying to hold back, but the bond tells you he doesn’t want to hold back anymore. He wants you to feel it. All of it. Each thrust knocks the air out of you with sweet sharp sounds echoing in the room, even out the window you were sure if someone passed, they’d know exactly what was happening in here, and you knew Neteyam’s possessiveness would never want you to quiet down.

You were practically melting into him, relaxing into hold, his thrust fucked you so good you swear you already started to see stars. As your legs tighten around him and your toes curled in the air, even your tail intertwined with him between his legs, his pace only answers back, faster now, the rhythm chasing a fire you’re both stoking together. When he feels the warmth spread across his skin, his gaze drops instinctively. Seeing your milk glistening there, fresh and soft against you both, something wild flickers in his eyes. He can’t move his hands that are tangled in your braids or maybe he doesn’t want to, but his mouth doesn’t need permission. His head dips, and the moment the warm droplets touch his skin, something in him snaps, low and deep.

A guttural breath leaves him as he leans in, tongue dragging slowly through the mess you made, tasting you like he’s starved for it. “Fìtxan tsìltsan… can’t even think straight.” (so good) Then, quieter murmured like he’s unraveling: “You taste like you were made for me.” And still, he doesn’t stop. He can’t. He’s lost in it, nose brushing skin, mouth open, chasing more. Not speaking now, only panting. Desperate and dazed, like nothing exists outside the mess you’re making together.

Neteyam was pounding into you so hard now you couldn’t think straight, your entire body rocked with his powerful thrust, legs trembling in the air. You couldn’t even catch your breath, it felt like the whole room shook with his thrust, “T-Teyam…I can’t—too much..” you stutter out as he knocked the air out of you. Neteyam’s eyes were everywhere, any part of your body he could see, his eyes locked on yours taking in your fucked out expression and sweet sounds he literally knocked out of you. “Oh sevin…you’re doing so good for me. Taking my cock so good,” his tone was husky, rough as he dragged it from his throat.

His hands moved from your hair to hold your thighs beneath your knees spreading you even further open, he raised his both slights and fucked into you even harder. “Ahh—” you started screaming, jumbled words about how deep his cock was and how good it felt, how much you couldn’t take it along with screaming his name. And you had no words in you to describe how you really feel even though he felt it through the bond. You were so close, so close to your release you wanted him to fuck you through. Your cunt sucked him in, no matter what incoherent words you’re you threw into the air, he was determined to fuck you until you couldn’t remember anything but him. “Good fucking girl…scream for me, say my name.” He groaned down at you, “gonna come sweet girl? Gonna make a mess on my cock.” You couldn’t even answer, trying to suck in air but before you could form words, he knocked it out. Your eyes rolled back, toes curling until they were cramping and your fingers must have been drawing blood from his back. “Fuckkk, gonna cum—” You scream and repeat the phrase over and over, even drowning out when he replied to you, but you felt his words in your cunt, “cum baby…cum for me…cum on this cock. Lemme see you milk my cock.”

His body bend down his face just inches from yours so he could swallow up all your little screams. For a second, it’s like the world stops moving with him. His arms tighten, his weight sinks just a little more into you, forehead resting against yours, his chest heaving once… twice… Then a low sound escapes him, not quite a groan, more like a broken moan dragged from somewhere deep. And you feel it, not just the warmth of his body, but the way he shudders, like something inside him just gave out. “Shit…” he mumbles, voice wrecked and quiet. “So fucking good—” His fingers tremble where they press into your thighs. He doesn’t say much more. Just presses his mouth to your shoulder and breathes you in, eyes shut tight like he’s trying to come back to himself, but you’re still holding him there, soft and flushed and real beneath him.

You’re both still catching your breath, tangled and flushed, when Neteyam’s hand finds yours. His fingers are a little shaky, but he brings them to his lips anyway, pressing a lazy kiss to your knuckles like he’s trying to ground himself through the touch. He’s quiet for a beat as he pulls out of you with a hiss and lays beside you. Then, with a breathless laugh: “…Are you alive?” You let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a whimper. “Barely. You short-circuited something in my brain.” His eyes crinkle with a sleepy grin. “Did I?” he asks, clearly too proud of himself. “Thought I felt you go a little boneless.”

“You shook the whole room, Neteyam.” He groans softly, dragging a hand down his face in mock guilt. “Yeah. That might’ve been me. Sorry.” “You’re not sorry,” you mutter, nestling into the crook of his neck. “No,” he agrees shamelessly. “I’m not.” Then, gentler, “Are you okay, though? I didn’t…” His voice dips, genuine concern peeking through the haze. “Was I too much?” You shake your head, lips brushing his throat when you turn and snuggle into his arms. “You were perfect.” Neteyam huffs out something between a laugh and a sigh. “You wrecked me,” he says, voice rough again, but softer now. “I swear, I’ll never move again.” You nudge his chest playfully. “Liar.”

“Truth,” he counters, eyes fluttering closed. “You looked so good underneath me I forgot my name for like… a full minute.” You start laughing, muffling it against his skin. “That’s not my fault.”

“It kind of is,” he hums, kissing the top of your head. “You make me a mess. Can’t think straight when it’s you.” You lift your head just enough to see his face. “Even now?”

“Especially now.” He reaches out and tucks a loose braid behind your ear, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re glowing. Wrecked and glowing. Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You pretend to hide your face, and he just chuckles again, pulling you closer. “Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs. “I want to remember you like this forever.” You softly smile and kiss his chest, “I don’t think we’ll be forgetting anytime soon even if we wanted too.”

The next morning, the soft sound of babies crying filters in from the main space of the marui. You stir first, your body still aching in that sweet, hazy way. Neteyam shifts behind you, arms tightening instinctively around your waist. His chest is pressed to your back, skin warm, slow breaths brushing your shoulder. The flap rustles. Kiri pokes her head in, her braid slipping over her shoulder and a wicked grin already forming on her face. “Okay,” she says, voice low and amused. “I knew you’d be slow to get up, but you two look like you were dragged through Eywa’s roots.” You open your eyes halfway, barely able to lift your hand to reach for the tiny, fussing bundle in Kiri’s arms. “Come here, baby girl,” you murmur, taking Ayula and curling her gently to your chest to nurse. You stay on your side, eyes slipping closed again, your body still boneless, satisfied. Neteyam groans softly behind you, stretching just enough to flash a grin at Kiri. “Dragged? I’d say carried.”

“Oh, please,” Kiri scoffs. “We heard things.” Then Lo’ak’s voice, already full of judgment. “Bro, what the actual—” He stops short in the doorway, holding Niväk in his arms. His gaze locks on the bruises dotting your skin and the smug, very unbothered look on Neteyam’s face. Tsireya walks in behind him, but when she catches sight of you two, her cheeks flush a bright teal. “Eywa…” Lo’ak shifts the baby and groans. “You’re both glowing. Disgustingly.” Neteyam smirks, propping himself up on one elbow, his toned chest on full display. “You think she’s glowing now? You should’ve seen her last night.”

“Neteyam,” you mumble under your breath, hiding your smile in Ayula’s soft hair. Tsireya snorts, trying to hide her grin, and Neteyam just keeps going, eyes flicking to her and Lo’ak with practiced mischief. “Folded her in half,” he says casually. “Like a reef leaf.” Lo’ak nearly drops the baby. “Bro!” Neteyam holds a hand out for Niväk, who Lo’ak hands over. “And she took it like the fiercest little warrior,” Neteyam adds, voice warm and low as he tucks Niväk against his chest. “Didn’t even beg me to stop. Not once.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, trying to glare at him through a sleepy smirk. Tsireya blushes furiously. Kiri groans into her hands. “You’re so annoying,” Lo’ak mutters, but his tone is all exasperated affection. “I swear, if you wink at my girl again—” Neteyam does exactly that. A sly wink at Tsireya. “I mean, if she ever wanted to know what it feels like to be loud at night and glowing in the morning…”

“Neteyam!” Tsireya gasps, though she’s giggling too hard to be actually offended. Lo’ak glares. “You’re done. Put a sock in it.”

“You’re just mad,” Neteyam shrugs, “because your girl’s already curious.”

“I will launch you into the ocean this time, we not doing my brother steal my girl act again,” Lo’ak threatens, though he’s trying not to laugh as he ushers Tsireya out by the shoulders. Kiri pauses at the flap and glances back at you, smiling fondly. “You okay?” You nod slowly, eyes closed, Ayula nursing quietly. “Perfect.”

“Good,” she says. “I’d say ‘take it easy today’ but… I don’t think that’s possible with him.” Then she ducks out. The room goes quiet again. You shift closer, Ayula dozing now against your chest. Neteyam’s already curled around Niväk, who sleeps like nothing happened. “You didn’t have to say all that,” you mumble with a smile. “Didn’t I?” he murmurs, nose brushing your cheek. “You were too pretty not to brag about. And gods, you’re even prettier now.” You laugh softly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Outside, the soft voices of your family drift through the marui, but inside, it’s warm, quiet, and full of lazy, lingering joy.

Two weeks later, you’d barely opened your eyes before your stomach flipped. You groaned quietly, already knowing what was coming. Slipping out of the woven sleeping mat beside Neteyam, you moved to the edge of the marui pod. You barely made it before vomiting again, your body trembling with the effort. Behind you, you heard stirring. Neteyam’s sleepy voice was muffled by blankets. “Ma yawne… again?” He sat up, concern lining his features. You wiped your mouth, forcing a weak smile. “It’s fine.”

The rest of the Sully family had been watching this unfold for days. By the time you returned to the mat and curled beside Neteyam, Tuk was already whispering something to Kiri. Lo’ak let out an audible sigh. Neytiri, crouched in the main area with Jake beside her, exchanged a pointed glance with Ronal, who had clearly just been invited over without your knowledge. Ronal said calmly, brushing into the space. “You’ve delayed long enough.” You groaned and tried to roll away, but Neteyam gently pulled you against him, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Just let her check you. Please.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, but no one looked convinced. With little patience left, Ronal pressed her cool palm to your stomach, then her forehead to yours. Her voice was quiet but absolute. “You are with child. Again.” The room fell silent. You blinked at her in disbelief. “What?” She gave a curt nod. “One this time.”

Your eyes slowly slid toward Neteyam. His arm was still wrapped around your waist, but his expression froze the moment he met your gaze. You felt the frustration bubble up. “You—” You pointed at him accusingly, voice sharp but more disbelieving than angry. “You got me pregnant again?” Neteyam’s ears flicked back, his eyes wide. “I—” He looked like he’d flinch, but then leaned forward, cupping your cheek gently. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. I just— You were so beautiful. I lost control a little.”

Jake bit back a snort. “A little?” Lo’ak let out a low whistle. “Bro. The twins aren’t even crawling.” Tsireya blushed, but she smiled anyway. “You two do look… very happy.” Kiri folded her arms, eyebrows raised as she teased, “You’re glowing. Again. Literally, and not from joy.” You stared ahead blankly, exasperated. “I just got sleep back. Just started walking around without crying. I thought we had time.” Neteyam, still clinging to you like he could protect you from your own uterus, murmured into your shoulder, “We do have time. We’ll be okay. I’ve got you. We’ve got this.” You sighed, but your body leaned back into him anyway, already feeling your anger melt beneath his warmth. Neytiri, brushing your hair gently behind your ear, smiled. “You’re strong, my daughter. You’ve done this before. You’ll do it again—with all of us beside you.” You closed your eyes, groaning softly. “You’re all too calm about this.” Neteyam kissed your temple. “Because we’ve got you. Always.”

The room is finally quiet. Outside, the faint hush of waves rolls up the sand. The woven walls filter the morning light, leaving shifting patterns across the floor. Neteyam lies behind you, warm and still, his arm draped over your waist like it’s instinct, like he’s not even thinking about holding you close, it just happens. You’re both on your sides now, tangled in the quiet, facing the open doorway where the rest of the family had gathered just an hour earlier with wide eyes and too many opinions. Your stomach still feels unsettled, but not from nausea anymore. Neteyam’s voice breaks the silence, low and close behind you. “You haven’t said anything since they left.”

You exhale slowly, eyes half open. “Still trying to decide if I should be mad or just… overwhelmed.” He paused, then his hand shifts over your stomach, palm gentle. “You can be both.” You let out a short laugh. “That’s not reassuring.” He leans in, nose brushing the back of your shoulder, voice quiet. “I just… keep thinking about how beautiful you looked that night.” You scoff, a little blush blooming at your ears. “Beautiful?” Neteyam chuckles softly. “Yeah. I mean—gorgeous. Glowing. Sexy as hell.” You turn slightly, just enough to glance back at him. “You’re ridiculous.” He lifts his head to look at you properly, smiling, eyes soft.

“Maybe. But I’m also right.” He brushes your hair from your face. “You’re still glowing, you know. Still sexy. Even right now, all pouty and annoyed with me.” You bury your face in the blanket, laughing quietly. Neteyam nudges in closer behind you, hand still on your stomach, his thumb brushing slow circles. “It’s just one baby this time,” he says gently. “That feels like mercy, doesn’t it?” You nod against the blanket. “Feels like Eywa’s trying to be funny.” He grins. “Well, she’s got a sense of humor. But I’m not complaining. You gave me everything I ever wanted and somehow, you’re still giving me more.”

You go quiet again, but this time it’s not frustration, it's something tender, something wordless. You reach back, threading your fingers through his. He squeezes once and leans in to kiss your temple. No more teasing. No more panic. Just the two of you breathing in sync, the weight of something new settling between your ribs, something a little terrifying, and still, somehow, beautiful. One of Neteyam’s hands is cradled against your belly, the other wrapped around your waist like he’s still afraid someone might take you from him again. But you’re not going anywhere. Not after everything.

Not after he lost himself, not in war, but in grief. After he tried to replace you in someone else’s eyes, only to find it was never you. Not truly. Not the soul of you. Not the fire that loved him back when he was bleeding and healing. Not the woman who prayed to Eywa to save him, pulling him back from death. And still, when the delusion shattered and the truth hit him like a tidal wave, he came for you. He returned to that cabin broken, desperate, and humble. And you opened your arms. You always would have.

Because you didn’t just wait, you healed. You survived the agony of him not being there for months, then remembered what you were capable of. You stood at the edge of the ocean, stared into the mouth of death, and passed the Trials of the Three Tides, bloodied, nearly broken and pregnant. You came back each time, silent and fierce, your body bruised and your soul blazing. And when Neteyam saw you standing victorious on the final day, the sacred scale still dripping in your hand, he wanted to weep like a boy who had finally come home, you felt it in his muscles as he held you close.

You remember feeling the relief and love as well, you did all that for him. Now, months later, your twins sleep soundly nearby. Neteyam’s face is buried in your hair, his voice thick with sleep and something far deeper when he murmurs, “You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You hum softly, the smallest smile curling your lips. “You said that when I had seaweed in my braids and a broken rib.” “And I meant it,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But now? With our baby in you again? You’re glowing. Strong. Dangerous. And so, God- damned sexy.”

He lifts his head just enough to find your eyes, his gaze softened by a reverence that never quite left after that night he almost lost you. “I love you so much. Oel ngati kameie,” he whispers, like a vow renewed. You blink, breath catching with the weight of everything those words carry. Everything you both survived, the heartbreak, the cabin, the trials, the birth, the loss and finding of yourselves and each other. “Oel ngati kameie, I love you more ma Neteyam,” (I see you) you whisper back. And you mean it. With every heartbeat. With every scar. With every breath in this wild, sacred life you’ve built together. Because after all of it, you’re still his. He’s still yours. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

🩵I hope you all enjoyed reading and if I forgot to mention anything please let me know! I hope you all liked it and I appreciate all the love and support I’ve gotten for it!

🩵Reblogs, comments, likes and feedback are all appreciated and welcomed!

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