#Starbound ask blog | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gardenladysworld · 3 days ago

Text

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining

Summary: In the breathtaking, untamed beauty of Pandora, two souls from different worlds find themselves drawn together against all odds. Neteyam, the dutiful future olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan, is bound by the expectations of his people and the traditions of his ancestors. She, a human scientist with a love for Pandora’s wonders, sees herself as an outsider, unworthy of the connection she craves.

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211, @poppyseed1031, @redflashoftheleaf

Part 10

I am sorry, i made these chapters sooo long :')

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Part 11: To ask

The forest was alive with the hum of Pandora. Even in the quiet daylight hours, the sounds of chirping insects and the distant calls of wildlife created a symphony that wrapped around you like a living heartbeat. You crouched beside a vibrant bush, its bioluminescent leaves dormant for now, carefully documenting its structure on your datapad.

The xenobotany team was scattered nearby. Norm was nearby, cataloging a set of vines; Brian was arguing with Kate over the best angle to photograph a strange fungal growth. Ethan lingered further off, conspicuously avoiding your area of the clearing. You knew why, and you didn’t need to think at the tall, blue person.

Neteyam.

You hadn’t seen him since his ‘talk’ with Ethan… The thought of asking him to help retrieve the ulo’ateya had weighed on you ever since. You knew he would help without hesitation, but wasn’t that the problem? The last thing you wanted was for him to feel obligated, to see you as someone who only approached him when she needed something.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to focus on your work. The datapad’s stylus felt clumsy in your fingers as you attempted to sketch the bush’s delicate blossoms, but your thoughts kept wandering. How should you even ask him? What if he thought you were taking advantage of him?

You didn’t want to be a burden—not to him.

The faintest rustle of leaves behind you pulled you from your thoughts. Before you could turn, you heard the deep, familiar timbre of his voice.

“You’re here.”

Your breath caught as you looked up to see Neteyam emerging from the trees, his tall, lithe form moving with a quiet grace that made him seem like part of the forest itself. He was carrying his bow, though it hung loosely at his side, and his golden eyes scanned the area briefly before settling on you.

“Neteyam?” you asked, startled. “What are you doing here?”

He stopped a few feet away, his posture relaxed but his gaze intent. “I was passing through,” he said simply, though the slight flick of his tail betrayed his calm demeanor.

Neteyam tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “I was nearby,” he said casually. “Just checking on the area.”

“Nearby?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced at him. “We’re a good five kilometers from the village.”

He shrugged, his tail flicking behind him. “The forest is vast. It’s not unusual for me to patrol these areas.”

Deep down, though, you couldn’t deny the thrill of seeing him here. His presence was steadying in a way you couldn’t explain, like an anchor in the vast, unpredictable jungle. It didn’t matter why he was here; you were glad he was.

Neteyam crouched beside you, his movements fluid and unhurried. His proximity made your pulse quicken, but you kept your attention on the bush in front of you, pretending to focus as you scribbled on your datapad.

“Well,” you said, turning back to the bush you were documenting, “since you’re here, you can make yourself useful and tell me if this plant has any... special properties.” You gestured to the bush with your stylus, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

Neteyam leaned closer, his gaze flicking between you and the plant. “It is called loran’ai,” he said. “The leaves are used to soothe burns.”

You nodded, making a quick note on your datapad. “Good to know. Thanks.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

“Documenting this bush,” you replied, gesturing to the plant. “Its leaves are fascinating. They curl inward during the day to conserve moisture, then open at night to release bioluminescent spores.”

He nodded, leaning slightly closer to get a better look. The faint scent of the forest clung to him—earthy and warm—and you had to fight the urge to lean in too. Instead, you busied yourself with jotting down more notes, your handwriting growing sloppier under his watchful gaze.

Neteyam was staring at you. You could feel it. His golden eyes followed every movement, his focus unwavering. It wasn’t the first time you’d caught him looking at you like that, but it never failed to unnerve you—in the best way possible. It was as though he saw something in you that no one else did, something you weren’t sure you deserved.

Finally, you couldn’t resist teasing him. “You know, you’re making it very hard to concentrate with those eyes of yours burning a hole in my face.”

His ears flicked sharply, and his tail gave a nervous twitch. “I wasn’t—” he started, his voice stumbling slightly. “I was just—”

You laughed softly, cutting him off. “Relax, Neteyam. I’m just teasing you.”

His flustered expression softened into a small smile, but you noticed the faint color blooming on his cheeks. He looked away briefly, his tail swaying behind him, as if he was trying to compose himself. The sight made your chest tighten with an unfamiliar warmth, a mixture of affection and something deeper.

He didn’t respond immediately, and when you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, you saw the corners of his mouth twitch upward, the barest hint of a smile breaking through his embarrassment.

Around you, the other scientists seemed completely unfazed by his presence, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for a Na’vi warrior to join them in the field. Norm and Brian were engrossed in their samples, and Kate had wandered farther into the clearing. Ethan, however, was a different story. He kept his distance, his shoulders tense and his eyes darting nervously toward Neteyam whenever he thought no one was looking.

You didn’t mind Ethan’s self-imposed exile—Neteyam certainly didn’t either, judging by the way his tail swayed lazily behind him.

But as you continued working, you felt the familiar weight of your unspoken question pressing down on you. The thought of asking Neteyam for help made your chest tighten, but you couldn’t avoid it forever. You needed that plant, and he was the only one who could get you there safely.

Still, the words refused to come. How could you ask him without sounding demanding? Without making it seem like you were taking advantage of his kindness?

Neteyam’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You are quiet today.”

You blinked, startled. “What? Oh, sorry. Just... thinking.”

His gaze lingered on you, thoughtful. “Something troubles you.”

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly, but his sharp eyes narrowed slightly, unconvinced.

“You do not hide your feelings well,” he said softly, his tone gentle but firm. “If there is something you need, you should say it.”

Your heart skipped at his words, and you glanced down at your datapad, fiddling with the stylus. Could he already tell what you were thinking?

“I’ll figure it out,” you said finally, your voice quieter than you intended.

Neteyam tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “If you need help, you only have to ask.”

His words hung between you, heavy with meaning, and you felt the weight of your hesitation pressing down on you. You wanted to believe him, to trust that he wouldn’t see your request as a burden. But the fear of crossing a line you couldn’t uncross kept you rooted in place.

*1 day ago*

You stood in the corner of the rec room, holding a steaming cup of the outpost’s passable imitation of coffee, while the rest of the xenobotany team gathered around the central table. Kate was fiddling with her tablet, Brian was leaning back in his chair, balancing precariously, and Norm was pulling up a holographic map of the surrounding region.

“Alright,” Norm said, tapping a point on the map with his stylus, the faint glow illuminating his face. “This is where we need to collect the sample. The ulo’ateya, or as you guys call it, the ‘Midnight Bloom.’ Rare, delicate, and it only flowers once a year—at night.”

Kate leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing at the map. “Let me guess, it grows in some impossible-to-reach place?”

“Bingo,” Norm replied with a sigh. “This ridge, here.” He pointed to a jagged, isolated stretch of land high above the jungle canopy. “You can only get there by ikran. No way to climb it without risking your neck.”

You frowned, taking a sip of your coffee as you studied the map. “Why can’t we just use the helicopter? Hover above the ridge, grab the sample, and head back before it gets too dark.”

Norm shook his head. “Not feasible. The noise would disturb the ecosystem, not to mention the risk of attracting predators. Besides, the RDA’s not going to approve a chopper for something like this.”

Brian frowned. “The cliffs are dangerous, especially at night. And the RDA barely lets us take the copters out during the day, let alone for a nighttime trip.”

Kate tapped her chin thoughtfully. “What about asking one of the Na’vi? They could fly us there on an ikran.”

Your heart sank at her suggestion. The thought of asking Neteyam flashed in your mind immediately, but you quickly pushed it aside. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s not fair to bother them with something like this. It’s a simple task for them, and it’s not their responsibility to help us with our research. A waste of his time.”

Kate grinned, nudging Brian. “You hear that? She doesn’t want to ‘waste his time’, because she knows his schedule. Sounds to me like she’s worried about something else entirely.”

You shot her a look, your cheeks warming. “That’s not it. He’s already busy enough. He doesn’t need me dragging him into this.”

Kate straightened, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying, if I had a Na’vi warrior who was clearly ready to leap off a cliff for me, I’d take advantage of it.”

“That’s exactly what I don’t want to do,” you said sharply, then immediately softened your tone. “I don’t want him to feel like he’s obligated to help just because I ask to bring us back a stupid plant.”

Kate snorted. “A ‘stupid plant’ that’s critical for understanding Pandora’s nighttime pollination cycles, right? Give yourself some credit.”

“It’s still mundane to him,” you argued, your tone tinged with frustration. “Neteyam has enough on his plate. I can’t ask him to take time out of his day for something so small.”

Brian leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Why not? He likes you. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

You shot him a sharp look, and he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying.”

“Look,” Kate said, her voice more serious now. “You’re not taking advantage of him by asking for help. You’re giving him a chance to do something he’s good at, something he probably enjoys. And if it’s important to you, it’ll be important to him.”

You glanced at Norm, hoping for a more pragmatic perspective. He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Kate’s right. If anyone’s going to help, it’s him. But if you’re uncomfortable, we can try to figure something else out.”

You sighed, the weight of the decision pressing on you. The ulo’ateya was vital to your research, and you knew you couldn’t do this alone. But the idea of asking Neteyam for help—of admitting that you needed him—felt daunting.

“I’ll think about it,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kate smirked, clearly pleased with your response. “Good. And when you do ask him, just be yourself. He won’t say no.”

Norm chuckled, patting your shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

Despite their reassurances, you couldn’t shake the nervous flutter in your chest. You nodded, pretending to focus on the datapad in front of you, but your thoughts were already spinning. How would you approach him? What would you say? And if he agreed, how would you ever repay him for his kindness?

Later, as you prepared to leave the lab, Kate’s words lingered in your mind. “Just be yourself,” she had said. But being yourself had never felt so terrifying.

The afternoon sun cast dappled light through the canopy, dancing patterns across Neteyam’s cobalt skin as he crouched beside you. His braids shifted with each subtle movement, swaying lightly as he adjusted his position to get a better view of your datapad. The intricate beads woven into them caught the faint sunlight, glinting like tiny stars. You had always admired the way his hair moved with him, as if it, too, was alive, a part of the forest’s rhythm.

He’ll think you’re ridiculous if you keep staring like that, you chided yourself, forcing your eyes back to your datapad. Still, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle tension in his posture, the way his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly when he looked at you, as if your presence brought him some kind of ease.

You tried to focus on your work—scribbling notes, documenting the plant in front of you—but your thoughts kept drifting to him. To the way his ears flicked with the barest shifts in sound, or how his golden eyes seemed to linger on you a moment too long before flicking away, as if he didn’t want to be caught. Every small movement felt amplified, like a symphony you couldn’t help but hear.

Stay calm. Don’t make it weird, you told yourself, gripping the stylus tighter than necessary.

Neteyam had always had a way of making you hyperaware of yourself—how you sat, how you spoke, even how you breathed. It wasn’t that he was intimidating; far from it. His presence was calming, steadying. But it was that very steadiness that made you want to tread carefully, as though a single misstep might break the fragile balance between you.

You caught yourself watching him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the slight twitch of his tail as it brushed the forest floor, the way his fingers—so much larger and stronger than yours—rested lightly on his bow. He moved with such grace that it was almost unfair, his every action deliberate yet effortless.

Ask him now, your mind urged. Before the others pack up. Before you lose your nerve.

But you hesitated. How could you, after spending the entire day trying not to bother him? Neteyam had his own responsibilities, his own burdens. Who were you to ask him to take time out of his day for a task that, to him, would likely seem mundane?

Yet you needed that plant—the elusive ulo’ateya that only bloomed at night and only in the high cliffs beyond the mountains. A helicopter wasn’t an option, and without an ikran, there was no way to reach it. Norm and Max had explained the situation, and Kate had encouraged you to ask Neteyam outright. But the thought of imposing on him made your chest tighten.

“Are you finished here?” his voice broke through your thoughts, low and quiet. His golden eyes flicked toward your datapad.

You startled slightly, gripping the stylus in your hand. “Almost,” you said quickly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just... a few more notes.”

Neteyam nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary before he looked away. His tail swayed lazily behind him, brushing the ground, and you wondered if it was a sign of his patience—or his curiosity.

The rest of the team was already wrapping up. Norm called out to you and Brian to start packing the equipment, and Kate gave you a knowing glance as she passed by with an armful of samples. They were giving you space—perhaps too much space—but you appreciated their subtle encouragement.

Neteyam’s voice broke the silence between you, low and calm. “You seem distracted.”

You glanced at him, startled, your grip tightening on the stylus. “What? Oh, no. I’m just... thinking about the next sample.”

His ears flicked slightly, a small, almost imperceptible movement that betrayed his skepticism. You knew he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t press further, his gaze returning to the plant.

Your heart hammered against your ribs as you worked. You had to ask him about the ulo’ateya. There was no other option, no better way to get the sample safely. But the thought of asking him filled you with an unshakable nervousness. What if he thought you were using him? What if he resented you for treating him like a tool rather than a friend?

Friend. The word tasted strange in your mind. Was that what he was to you? The word felt inadequate, too small to encompass the way he made you feel. But you couldn’t call it anything else... Not when you were terrified of ruining whatever fragile connection existed between you. But you hoped you could.

You stole a glance at him as he shifted slightly, the motion smooth and effortless. His fingers brushed against a leaf, his touch careful and deliberate, as though he understood the value of even the smallest life. You swallowed hard, willing yourself to speak.

“Neteyam,” you began softly, your voice barely carrying over the sounds of the forest.

He looked up immediately, his golden eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Yes?”

Your nerves threatened to choke you, but you pressed on, the words tumbling out in a rush. “There’s a plant I need for my research. It’s rare—it only grows in one area, and it blooms at night. I—Norm and I—were trying to figure out a way to get to it, but it’s... complicated.”

His expression remained steady, though his ears twitched faintly, a sign you’d come to recognize as curiosity. “Where is it?”

You hesitated, clutching your datapad like a lifeline. “It’s on one of the high cliffs near the Hallelujah Mountains. The ulo’ateya. We were thinking about taking a helicopter, but it’s dangerous at night, and it wouldn’t be fast enough to get back before morning and the RDA wouldn’t let us to go there this fast.”

Your heart raced. Did he think you were using him? Would he be annoyed? You hated the idea of burdening him, of taking advantage of his kindness. And yet, you couldn’t deny the flicker of hope in your chest as he considered your request.

Finally, he nodded. “I will help you,” he said simply, as though the answer had been obvious all along. “I will come to the outpost tonight, before midnight. Have everything prepared for me, and I will go.”

Relief flooded through you, and before you could stop yourself, a wide grin spread across your face. “Really? You’ll do it?”

Neteyam tilted his head, his expression softening at the sight of your joy. “Yes,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “It is no trouble.”

You couldn’t help the giddy laugh that escaped you, and the next thing you knew, you were throwing your arms around him in a hug. “Thank you!” you exclaimed, your words muffled against his shoulder. “Thank you so much!”

For a moment, Neteyam stiffened in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your sudden embrace. But then his arms came up tentatively, his hands resting lightly on your back as he returned the gesture. His touch was careful, almost reverent, as though he were afraid of breaking you.

Around you, the forest seemed to fade, the sounds of your team packing up distant and unimportant. All you could feel was the steady warmth of Neteyam’s presence, his breath soft against your hair as he leaned into the hug.

When you finally pulled back, your cheeks flushed as you realized what you’d just done. His golden eyes met yours, and there was a faint flicker of amusement in his expression—though his ears twitched in a way that suggested he was just as flustered as you were.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I got a little... carried away.”

Neteyam’s lips twitched into a small smile, his voice low and warm. “It is... fine.”

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the rest of the team watching, their expressions ranging from amused to outright smirking. Kate gave you a thumbs-up behind Neteyam’s back, while Norm and Brian exchanged knowing glances.

And with that, he turned, his steps light and silent as he disappeared into the forest. You watched him go, the ache in your chest both painful and sweet. There was no turning back now. Tonight, he would fly into the heart of Pandora’s wild beauty, and all you could do was hope he would return safely—with the rare plant in hand and the unspoken bond between you intact.

The trek back to the outpost was filled with quiet murmurs of excitement and a sense of accomplishment. The team worked quickly to gather everything Neteyam would need for the trip to retrieve the ulo’ateya. You helped sort the sample trays and delicate containers, making sure every piece of equipment was secure in the specially designed bag. Your fingers worked efficiently, but your mind was elsewhere—on him.

You couldn’t stop replaying the moment when he agreed to help. The memory of his golden eyes, steady and certain, lingered in your thoughts. And the hug—oh, Eywa, the hug. What had possessed you to throw your arms around him like that? The feel of his arms encircling you, strong yet gentle, sent warmth blooming in your chest.

“Earth to our plant lady!” Kate’s teasing voice snapped you out of your reverie. She was holding up a sample tray, waving it in front of your face. “We need these packed, not admired.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, taking the tray and carefully placing it into the bag. Kate smirked knowingly but didn’t press further.

Kate, perched on a nearby stool, leaned over and nudged your arm. “You’re unusually quiet,” she teased. “Still riding the high of Neteyam saying yes?”

You glanced at her, feeling the flush creep up your neck. “I’m just making sure everything’s ready,” you said, avoiding her knowing smirk. “This isn’t exactly a casual favor.”

Kate grinned. “He didn’t hesitate, though, did he? Told you he’d do anything for you.”

“Kate,” you warned, your tone half-serious.

Kate leaned against the counter beside you, watching as you fumbled with the straps. “You’re lucky he said yes,” she teased, a grin tugging at her lips. “Though, let’s be real—Neteyam would probably lasso the moons for you if you asked.”

You rolled your eyes, though her words sent a flutter through your chest. “He’s just being kind,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s no big deal.”

Kate raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

You shook your head, but her words lingered. Deep down, you were grateful—more than grateful. Neteyam’s willingness to help wasn’t something you took lightly. As the team worked around you, packing each tray and tool carefully into a large, durable bag, your thoughts kept drifting to him. To the way he’d said, “It is no trouble.” To the way his golden eyes had softened when you’d hugged him.

“Bag’s ready,” Max announced, pulling you from your thoughts. He slung it over his shoulder, testing the weight. “Heavy, but manageable. Neteyam should have no problem carrying it.”

“Good,” you said, standing and brushing your hands on your thighs. “Let’s triple-check the inventory.”

Norm gave you a look. “We already did that twice.”

“Once more,” you insisted. “Just to be sure.”

By the time the bag was packed, the outpost felt quieter than usual. The hum of machinery and faint chatter of the night shift provided a muted backdrop as you glanced at the clock on the wall. Eleven fifty-eight.

The air in the room was tense, charged with anticipation. Kate was tapping her fingers against the edge of the table, and Brian was pacing in the corner. The others lingered nearby, occasionally glancing out the window.

“You know, I’ve never seen an ikran up close. Do you think it’s as terrifying as it looks in the vids?” Kate said.

“They’re not terrifying,” you said automatically, your mind drifting back to Neteyam’s ikran. You remembered its sharp eyes, the iridescent sheen of its scales, and the surprisingly gentle way it had nudged you the first time you’d met. “They’re incredible. Powerful, yes, but not terrifying.”

Brian snorted from the corner of the room. “I’ll believe that when I see it. Those things look like they could eat you whole.”

“They wouldn’t,” Norm interjected, his voice calm but firm as he joined you at the counter. “Ikran are bonded to their riders. They’re loyal and intelligent, but they don’t trust easily. If you’re not bonded to one, you’d better keep your distance.”

Max nodded in agreement. “Even if they seem tame, they’re still wild creatures. I’ve seen more than a few scientists learn that the hard way.”

You listened to their conversation with half an ear, focusing on other things. The thought of Neteyam flying through the night to retrieve the rare plant stirred a mix of emotions in your chest—gratitude, admiration, and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“Relax,” Max said, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in hand. “He’ll be here. Trust me, if Neteyam says he’s going to do something, he does it.”

You nodded, but your fingers continued to toy with the edge of the table. Every minute felt like an eternity, the anticipation buzzing in your veins. It wasn’t just about the plant anymore; it was about seeing him again, knowing he was doing this for you.

At exactly midnight, a sharp screech cut through the stillness, jolting everyone into motion.

“That’ll be him,” Max said, setting his coffee down and grabbing his exo-mask. The team hurried to do the same, following the sound of the ikran as it circled the clearing before landing gracefully just outside the outpost.

You stepped out into the cool night air, the soft glow of the bioluminescent forest framing the massive creature that had just landed. Neteyam’s ikran was a sight to behold—its sleek body shimmering faintly in the moonlight, its wings folding neatly as it settled into the clearing. The vibrant blues and greens of its skin were mesmerizing, and its sharp, intelligent eyes scanned the group warily.

“Oh my god,” Brian muttered, taking a hesitant step back. “It’s huge.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Kate added, her voice tinged with awe and a hint of nervousness. But you couldn’t help yourself; your feet moved before your mind could catch up, drawing you closer to the ikran and its rider.

“Is it... safe?” Brian whispered, his voice tight with unease.

“As safe as an apex predator can be,” Norm replied, though his tone was far from reassuring.

Ignoring their hesitation, you stepped forward. The ikran shifted slightly, its sharp beak clicking as its large, luminous eyes locked onto you. Your heart skipped a beat, but you refused to stop.

“Careful!” Kate hissed, his hand reaching out as if to stop you. “That thing could—”

You froze for a moment, watching him. His braids swayed as he moved, and the faint glow of his bioluminescent markings only made him seem more otherworldly. His golden eyes met yours, and for a brief second, the rest of the team seemed to fade into the background.

“Holy—” Brian began, taking a cautious step back. Kate grabbed his arm, though she looked equally wary.

Even Norm and Max, who were more accustomed to the ikrans, exchanged nervous glances. “Remember,” Max said quickly, “don’t make any sudden movements. Ikran only respond to their riders. And don’t look into its eyes.”

But you stepped forward without hesitation, your heart thrumming in your chest as you approached the towering creature. The ikran’s head turned toward you, its piercing gaze locking onto yours. For a moment, the air felt charged, heavy with anticipation. Then it let out a sound—a chirp, almost melodic, that sent a wave of relief washing over you.

The ikran lowered its massive head, nudging you gently, its scaled skin cool and surprisingly smooth against your hand. You laughed quietly, reaching up to stroke the side of its head. “Hello again,” you said softly, as if speaking to an old friend.

Behind you, the team watched in stunned silence. Brian’s mouth hung open, and Kate’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “Did... did it just—chirp at her?” Brian asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Looks like it,” Kate muttered, clearly torn between amazement and panic.

Norm let out a breath, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

But you barely noticed their reactions. Your focus was on Neteyam as he dismounted his ikran with a fluid grace that made your breath catch. His long braid moved with him, the end glowing faintly as it swayed behind him when small tendrils moved. He reached up, undoing the bond of tsaheylu, and the ikran let out a soft rumble, its eyes half-closing in contentment.

Neteyam’s eyes softened as he watched the interaction, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “She remembers you,” he said, his voice low and warm.

You glanced at him, your heart fluttering. “I guess I made an impression.”

The ikran nudged you again, its massive head nearly knocking you off balance as it let out another chirping sound, almost like a purr. The others watched in stunned silence, their disbelief practically radiating off them.

You turned to Neteyam, holding out the bag. “Here,” you said, your voice softer. “Everything’s ready. The tools, the trays—everything you’ll need.”

Neteyam took the bag from you, his large hands brushing yours briefly in the process. The contact sent a small jolt through you, and you quickly pulled your hand back, pretending to adjust your exo-mask.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone as steady as ever. He slung the bag over the ikran’s shoulder effortlessly, as though it weighed nothing at all just to secure the bag on its saddle’s side.

“Be careful,” you said, the words leaving your lips before you could stop them.

Neteyam’s lips quirked into a faint smile, his ears flicking slightly. “I will return before the sun rises,” he promised, his voice low but reassuring.

As Neteyam turned back to his ikran, you watched in awe as he reached for his braid, the long tendrils shifting as he brought it forward. The glow of tsaheylu brightened as the kuru connected with the ikran’s neural queue, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The bond between them was palpable, a seamless connection that felt almost sacred.

The ikran crouched low, its wings unfurling slightly as Neteyam sit on its back with practiced ease. He glanced down at you one last time, his expression calm but intent. “I will see you soon.”

Before you could respond, the ikran let out a piercing screech and leapt into the air, its powerful wings slicing through the night as it ascended. You craned your neck to watch as they disappeared into the sky, the faint glow of the ikran’s patterns fading into the distance.

The team watched in awe as Neteyam and his ikran took to the skies, disappearing into the night. You stood there, your heart full, as the wind from the ikran’s wings stirred the air around you.

“Okay,” Kate said after a moment, breaking the silence. “That was the coolest—and scariest—thing I’ve ever seen.”

Brian shook his head, still staring after the ikran. “I can’t believe it actually chirped at her. Like a giant... bird-cat-thing.”

Norm chuckled, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve got a way with animals,” he said, his tone light. “Or maybe just with Neteyam.”

A quiet warmth spread through your chest, a mix of gratitude and something deeper you didn’t dare name. He was doing this for you—no, for the team, for the research. But still, the thought lingered, leaving your heart full and your mind spinning as you turned back toward the outpost.

Part 12

#avatar 2022 #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #james cameron avatar #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you

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