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Na'vi au

Human au

Human sully family

NETEYAM

courtesy or more than that? part 1 part 2 part3 part4 part5

Neteyam is no longer the untouchable “perfect son” but a 18‑year‑old young man learning to balance responsibility with his own desires. Between his meticulous routines, quiet moments of self‑care, and the warmth of family dinners, he finds himself increasingly drawn to Tsawke(oc)What begins as subtle admiration slowly unfolds into a tender, almost secret affection.

[ai4e]

Courtesy or more than that? (5)

Synopsis: As their unforgettable road trip comes to a close and the Jeep turns back toward the reserve, Neteyam finds himself completely at peace, entirely unbothered by the return to his rigid daily responsibilities. Having traded his strict military checklists for spontaneous adventures across Argentina's wetlands, mountains, and thermal pools, he reflects on the journey as the best decision of his life.

Warnings: Human AU, slow burn, slight mentions of Sully family dynamics, Neteyam being an "overthinker." lots of fluff, Human AU. In this universe Neteyam is 18. To understand this AU you need to read the blogs that explains the dynamics between the characters:

HUMAN SULLY FAMILY

<<3 <4

The further south they drove, the more the landscape flattened into the immense, windswept gray of the Patagonian steppe. The wind became a physical force, buffeting the Jeep and whistling through the door seals. Canuto spent most of his time curled in a tight ball on Neteyam’s lap, buried beneath two technical fleece jackets, his black nose twitching as he shivered.

They hit the iconic Route 40, stopping at places Tsawke had kept mapped in her head for years. But as they pulled into a famous lakeside lookout near San Carlos de Bariloche, the excitement in her eyes fractured.

Where she expected pristine glacial shores, plastic bottles trapped in the briars rattled in the wind. At a campsite near Esquel where she used to watch condors, a new gravel quarry had chewed away half the hillside, leaving gray dust over everything.

Tsawke stood by the front bumper of the Jeep, her camera hanging forgotten against her technical jacket. Her curls were whipping wildly around her face, but she didn’t care. Her jaw was set, her brown eyes clouded with a quiet, heavy grief as she looked at a pile of discarded tourist trash near the water's edge.

“It’s changing,” she murmured, her voice flat, barely carrying over the wind. “It’s not just the trash, Sully. The glacier line on that peak... it’s higher than it was three years ago. It’s like the wild parts are shrinking.”

Neteyam walked up behind her, stepping closer to block the biting wind from her side. He didn't offer a hollow cliché or a standard military solution. He just placed a heavy, reassuring hand on her shoulder, letting her feel his warmth through the technical fabric.

“The world is heavy right now, Tsawke,” he said softly, his voice low and steady. “But you’re still looking. That matters.”

She looked down, leaning into his touch for a brief second before a sudden, sharp tremor beneath Neteyam's jacket caught her attention. She looked at him closely. Neteyam’s lips were a faint shade of blue, and his jaw was clenched tight to keep his teeth from chattering. Down in the passenger footwell, Canuto let out a tiny, miserable whine, shivering violently despite being wrapped in three blankets.

Neteyam tried to pull off a tough smile. “The tire pressure is stable,” he offered weakly, trying to redirect. “We can still make it to Santa Cruz if we—”

“Sully, stop,” Tsawke interrupted. The sadness vanished from her eyes, instantly replaced by that sharp, protective authority he knew so well. She reached out, touching his frozen cheek with the back of her hand. “You’re freezing. And Canuto looks like a vibrating toy.”

“I’m fine,” Neteyam protested, though his breath hitched from the cold. “You wanted to see the southern fjords. We have the gear.”

“The gear is for a Patagonian summer, not a polar vortex, you stubborn idiot,” she said, but her voice was completely soft, filled with a tenderness that made his heart skip. She didn't hesitate. She walked over to the driver's side, threw open the door, and looked at the map on the dashboard. “We’re turning around.”

Neteyam blinked, astonished. “What? But your route—the glaciers—”

“The glaciers aren't going anywhere, and I’m not losing my navigator or my co-pilot to hypothermia,” she said firmly, tossing a warm thermos of tea into his hands. “There’s a thermal valley up toward Mendoza and Neuquén. Red rocks, hot springs, and actual sunshine. We’re going there.”

As she hopped into the driver's seat and started the engine, Neteyam climbed into the passenger side, pulling a shivering Canuto tightly against his chest. He looked over at Tsawke as she shifted into reverse, turning their backs to the freezing south.

She had spent months planning this precise route, but the moment he and a stray dog started to suffer, she hadn't hesitated to throw the entire itinerary out the window. Looking at her determined profile, Neteyam realized that his safety—their comfort—mattered more to her than any destination on a map.

“Mendoza it is,” Neteyam murmured, a deep, genuine warmth finally spreading through his chest.

Tsawke reached over the console, giving Canuto a quick scratch and letting her fingers brush Neteyam’s hand on the tea mug. “Shut up and turn up the heater, Sully. Let’s go find some sun.”

The monotonous hum of the pavement shifted to a deeper rumble as the Jeep headed north, away from the freezing gales of the deep south. Inside the cabin, the heater was blasting a comforting, dry warmth, and Canuto was finally fast asleep across Neteyam's lap, his scruffy chin resting peacefully on Neteyam’s knee.

But the atmosphere inside the car remained heavy.

Tsawke’s grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled. Her eyes were fixed rigidly on the long, straight line of the highway, her jaw set so tight that a small muscle in her cheek was twitching. She hadn't adjusted the radio in an hour, and the silence from the driver's side was dense and stormy.

Neteyam watched her profile silently. He knew the difference between her playful frustration and the deep, wounded anger she was carrying now. It wasn't about the turned-around trip or the freezing weather. It was what she had seen at the lakes and the quarries.

"Hey," Neteyam said softly, his voice low so he wouldn't startle the sleeping dog. "Talk to me. You're going to snap that steering wheel in half."

Tsawke didn't look at him, but her chest rose and fell in a sharp, agitated breath. "I'm just tired, Sully."

"You're not tired, you're furious," Neteyam countered gently, leaning a bit closer across the center console. "Is it the south? The trash?"

That broke the dam. Tsawke let out a bitter, humorless laugh, her fingers gripping the wheel even tighter. "It’s just... humanity, Neteyam. It infuriates me. People are so incredibly, blindly selfish."

She finally glanced at him, her brown eyes flashing with a mix of sorrow and rage that cut right through him. "How can they look at a glacial lake that took thousands of years to form and think it’s a good place to dump plastic? How can they look at an ancient hillside and see nothing but gravel to buy and sell? They just can't see the harm they're doing to nature. All the pretty, valuable things in this world are going to end just so a few people can fill their pockets with money."

She looked back at the road, her voice dropping into a fierce, shaking whisper. "They think they're so smart with their industries and their margins. But an old Cree proverb keeps running through my head, and it’s hitting me like a physical punch today: When the last tree has fallen, the last river poisoned, and the last fish caught, only then will they realize that they cannot eat money. They won't be able to eat their rocks, or their bank accounts, or their objects. But by then, everything beautiful will be gone."

Neteyam listened to every word, his heart aching for the weight she was carrying. He looked down at Canuto, then out at the vast landscape rolling past the window. He knew exactly what she meant. He had seen the same greed, the same thoughtless destruction back near the reserve.

"You're right," Neteyam said, his voice steady, grounding, and completely devoid of doubt. "Everything you just said is completely true. The greed is real, and it’s terrifying how fast people can destroy what took eras to build."

He reached out, crossing the space between them, and placed his palm gently over her hand on the steering wheel. He waited until he felt her tense fingers slowly loosen beneath his touch.

"But look at this Jeep, Tsawke," he murmured, his eyes locking onto hers when she glanced over. "Look at what's inside it. You didn't leave the south because you wanted to go find a city; you left because you cared about a shivering stray dog and a freezing navigator. You saw the ugly parts of the highway, but you also showed me the wetlands, the birds, and the ancient granite. You’re still documenting it. You’re still fighting to make people look."

A small, quiet breath escaped her lips.

"The selfish people are loud," Neteyam continued, a soft, encouraging smile pulling at his lips. "But they don't own the whole road. As long as there are people like you who still get furious about a plastic bottle in a lake, the beautiful things aren't completely gone. You haven't let them win. And you've taught a guy who used to only care about military checklists to actually stop and look at the landscape."

Tsawke stared at him, the harsh, defensive anger in her expression slowly melting away, replaced by a raw, quiet vulnerability. She let out a long, shaky sigh, turning her hand over beneath his so their fingers could interlock for a brief, tight moment.

"You're a terrible negotiator, Sully," she whispered, though a faint, genuine ghost of a smile finally touched her lips. "But you're a really good co-pilot."

"I try," Neteyam smiled, gently squeezing her hand before letting her return it to the wheel. "Now, where are these hot springs? Canuto and I have a serious date with some warm weather."

 ── ・⸝⸝  ⟢  ⸝⸝・ ──

The heavy tension completely evaporated from the cabin, replaced by the humming heat of the dashboard vents and the steady, rhythmic snoring of Canuto. By late afternoon, the flat, windy steppes of Patagonia finally gave way to the towering, sun-drenched crimson cliffs of the central Andes.

Tsawke detoured the Jeep down a rugged, unpaved canyon track outside of Malargüe, Mendoza. The dry air was crisp but baked by an intense, brilliant sun that felt like a physical embrace after the freezing south.

“There,” Tsawke said, pointing her chin toward a hidden crevice in the canyon wall where a gentle plume of steam was rising into the clear blue sky. “Termas de Cajón Grande. No luxury resorts, no tourist crowds. Just pure mountain water.”

When they killed the engine, the silence was absolute and peaceful. Canuto was the first one out, yawning massively before trotting over to a patch of sun-warmed earth and instantly flopping down with a blissful sigh, his paws up in the air.

Neteyam climbed down and shed his heavy technical jacket, closing his eyes as the warm mountain sun hit his face. For the first time in weeks, his jaw wasn't clenched against the cold.

Following a natural stone path, they found a series of terraced pools built directly into the red rock, fed by a trickling thermal spring. The water was crystalline, shimmering with a faint emerald tint.

An hour later, the sun was beginning to dip behind the massive Andean peaks, painting the canyon walls in brilliant shades of gold and violet. Neteyam was sitting in the upper pool, the water perfectly hot, soaking away every ounce of residual stress from his shoulders. He rested his arms on the smooth stone edge, looking out over the vast, untouched valley.

Tsawke was sitting a few feet away, her shoulders submerged in the steaming water. Her damp curls were piled on top of her head, and the fading sunlight caught the sharp, beautiful angles of her profile. She looked completely different from the fiercely angry girl on the highway; she looked soft, grounded, and entirely at peace.

"Hey," she murmured, glancing over at him with a lazy, content smile. "Are you currently running through a twenty-point checklist for pool safety, Sully?"

Neteyam let out a soft, genuine laugh, shaking his head as the steam swirled around them. "Actually, no. Point number one was 'thaw out.' Point number two was 'relax.' I'm officially done with the inventory."

"Good," she whispered, moving a little closer through the water until her shoulder lightly brushed against his. "Because you look human when you're not holding a clipboard."

Neteyam turned his head to look at her. In the quiet twilight of the canyon, with the water keeping them warm against the cooling mountain air, the space between them felt incredibly small. He didn't feel the nervous panic he had felt in the rooftop tent; he just felt a deep, steady certainty.

"Thank you for turning the car around, Tsawke," he said softly, his voice dropping into a lower, intimate register. "I know how much the south meant to you."

Tsawke looked down at the water, tracing a small circle in the ripples with her finger. "The south will always be there, Neteyam. But lakes and glaciers don't mean anything if you don't have the right people to see them with." She looked up, her brown eyes locking onto his with a fierce, quiet honesty. "I didn't need to go to the end of the world. This is exactly where I wanted to be...Besides, if I want, I can go whenever I want. And whenever you want to come with me on that adventure, you are welcome."

Neteyam’s heart gave a slow, heavy thud against his ribs. He reached out beneath the warm water, his fingers finding hers and intertwining them, squeezing gently. This time, she didn't pull away or deflect with a sarcastic comment. She just leaned her head against his shoulder, letting out a long, peaceful breath.

Down on the grassy bank by the Jeep, Canuto gave a single, muffled bark in his sleep, completely content in the fading warmth of the afternoon. Neteyam looked from the scruffy dog to the girl resting against his side, and as the stars began to pierce the deep blue Mendoza sky, he realized they hadn't just found a warm valley—they had found exactly what they were looking fo

 ── ・⸝⸝  ⟢  ⸝⸝・ ──

n the passenger seat, Neteyam leaned his head against the window frame, a soft, unbothered smile on his face. Canuto was sprawled across his lap, snoring heavily with his scruffy chin hooked over Neteyam's forearm—completely domesticated and utterly content.

Neteyam looked down at his own hands. They were tanned from the Mendoza sun, a little calloused from handling rough camp setup, and entirely empty. For the first time in his life, he didn't have his tablet out, he wasn't checking the digital map, and he hadn't thought about his twenty-point checklist in days. The rigid, hyper-vigilant military efficiency that Jake had drilled into him hadn't vanished, but it had finally loosened its grip.

He didn't feel the usual knot of anxiety that usually came with returning to his responsibilities. Instead, his mind was a vivid loop of memories from the past weeks:

The surreal, shimmering waters of the Iberá wetlands where Canuto had first joined their crew.

The freezing, starlit night in the rooftop tent where he had been terrified to move an inch.

The raw, honest conversation on Route 40 where he had held Tsawke's hand against the steering wheel.

The absolute, healing warmth of the Mendoza hot springs that had washed away years of carrying everyone else's burdens.

They hadn't made it to the southern fjords, and their perfect itinerary had been completely derailed by a shivering stray dog and a polar vortex, but Neteyam knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it had been the greatest vacation of his life. He had set out to survive the road, and instead, he had learned how to live on it.

Beside him, Tsawke guided the Jeep through the familiar turns of the reserve's entrance. She looked over at him, her brown eyes catching the relaxed slope of his shoulders and the genuine peace on his face.

Down in the footwell, Canuto was snoring softly, his head resting heavily on a discarded, dirty flannel shirt. The scruffy dog had completely claimed his spot in the family, his coat permanently smelling of woodsmoke and river water.

Neteyam reached out, his hand resting on the center console just an inch away from Tsawke's. She was driving with a relaxed, easy posture, a stark contrast to the tense, white-knuckled grip she’d had days ago. A faint, peaceful playlist hummed from the speakers.

"You're smiling," she noted, not taking her eyes off the road but letting a lopsided grin touch her lips. "Are you mentally drafting a report for your dad about our fuel efficiency?"

"Not even close," Neteyam murmured, his voice warm and completely unburdened. "I was just thinking that this was the best decision I've ever made."

"Getting hijacked into the mountains by a rebel scientist?"

"Letting go of the clipboard," he corrected softly.

He looked over at her profile, illuminated by the bright, golden midday sun. He didn't care that the trunk was full of muddy gear, that half their supplies had been eaten by a stray dog, or that they hadn't made it to the southern fjords. They had swapped a rigid itinerary for something real—wetlands filled with capybaras, a cold night under a canvas roof where their breathing synced, a furious conversation about saving what is beautiful, and a hidden thermal pool where everything finally aligned.

"We didn't cross the whole map," Neteyam said, turning his hand over so his palm faced upward, an open invitation.

Tsawke didn't hesitate. She slid her hand into his, interlocking their fingers with a familiar, easy pressure that sent a wave of quiet comfort right through his chest.

"Maps are overrated, Sully," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "We found the good parts."

Neteyam looked back out at the road ahead. The reserve was waiting, and with it, all the responsibilities he had carried since childhood. But he wasn't the same guy who had stepped out of the house at five in the morning with a twenty-point checklist. He was returning with a co-pilot, a scruffy mountain dog, and a quiet, unshakeable certainty that no matter how loud or chaotic the world got, he finally knew exactly where he belonged.

To admire and live in God's creation.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

the part 6 is the final part and is an extra.

[ai4e]

Courtesy or more than that? (4)

Synopsis:When meticulous reserve-heir Neteyam embarks on a rugged road trip to Patagonia with the fiercely independent Tsawke, his rigid military checklists are instantly challenged by her spontaneous spirit and the intimacy of the road.

Warnings: Human AU, slow burn, slight mentions of Sully family dynamics, Neteyam being an "overthinker." lots of fluff, Human AU. In this universe Neteyam is 18. To understand this AU you need to read the blogs that explains the dynamics between the characters:

HUMAN SULLY FAMILY

<< 2 <3 5>

 ── ・⸝⸝  ⟢  ⸝⸝・ ──

The transition from the flat, endless horizons of Santa Fe to the rolling hills of Córdoba happened gradually, announced by a crispness in the air that made Neteyam roll up his window halfway through the morning. The humid warmth of the lowlands was entirely gone, replaced by a dry, pine-scented breeze that seemed to carry the ancient weight of the Sierras.

Tsawke was in her element. As the road began to twist and climb, her driving shifted from a relaxed highway cruise to a precise, rhythmic dance with the steering wheel. She downshifted into third gear to take a sharp, ascending curve, the Jeep’s engine roaring happily against the incline.

“Welcome to the real air, Sully,” she said, casting a quick glance his way. Her curls were tied back in a messy bun today, a few loose strands framing her face as she squinted against the bright mountain sun. “Goodbye rivers, hello granite.”

Neteyam adjusted his posture, his eyes tracking the steep rock faces lining the route. The landscape was dotted with low shrubs, golden grasslands, and massive boulders sculpted by centuries of wind.

“It feels... old,” Neteyam murmured, leaning forward to look up through the windshield at the peaks rising in the distance. “Back at the reserve, everything feels alive and constantly moving because of the thick canopy. This feels steady. Immutable.”

“That’s the Sierras Grandes for you,” Tsawke replied, a note of reverence in her voice that she usually reserved for rare bird sightings. “Some of these rock formations are older than the Andes. They’ve seen everything.”

By early afternoon, they had bypassed the busier tourist towns, detouring onto a gravel track that snaked deeper into the valley of Calamuchita. The Jeep kicked up a plume of pale dust as they climbed toward a secluded spot Tsawke knew near a mountain stream.

The silence here was different from the riverbank in Santa Fe. It wasn’t heavy or filled with the hum of insects; it was wide, punctuated only by the whistling wind and the distant rush of water tumbling over smooth stones.

Tsawke pulled the Jeep to a stop on a flat, grassy ledge overlooking a deep gorge. Below them, a crystal-clear river pooled into a natural emerald basin.

“End of the line for today,” she announced, stretching her arms over her head with a satisfied sigh. “We’re prepping early because once the sun drops behind those peaks, the temperature is going to plummet. And no, Neteyam, before you ask—we still don't need the industrial survival kit.”

Neteyam smiled, stepping out of the passenger side. The air hit him like a physical splash of cold water, clean and sharp in his lungs. He walked to the edge of the overlook, hands on his hips, taking in the vastness of the valley below. For the first time in his life, his mind wasn't running through a contingency plan for a sudden storm or an equipment failure. He was just... there.

“Hey,” Tsawke’s voice was closer now. She had walked up beside him, holding two thick flannel shirts she’d grabbed from the back seat. She tossed one at his chest. “Put it on. The mountain doesn’t care about your military discipline; it’ll freeze you anyway.”

He caught the shirt, slipping it over his shoulders. It smelled faintly of woodsmoke and the interior of the Jeep. As he buttoned it, he looked down at her. She was already watching him, her brown eyes carrying that familiar, unreadable warmth that always made his chest tighten in the best possible way.

“Thank you,” he said softly, the words carrying more weight than just a thank-you for the clothing.

Tsawke gave a small, quiet nod, her usual sharp banter momentarily giving way to the stillness of the mountains. She reached out, her thumb lightly brushing a speck of highway dust from his cheekbone before she turned back toward the Jeep.

“Come on, perfectionist,” she called out over her shoulder, her voice regaining its playful spark. “Let’s get that accordion tent up. You’re on dinner duty tonight, and I expect something better than noodle stew if you want a turn with the camera tomorrow.”

Neteyam watched her walk away, a genuine, unburdened laugh escaping his lips as he hurried to catch up and grab the ladder.

── ・⸝⸝ ⟢ ⸝⸝・ ──

The sharp scent of searing meat was just beginning to fill the mountain air when a sudden rustle in the dry brush made Neteyam drop his cooking utensil. His hand instantly dropped to his waist, muscle memory from years of reserve training kicking in before his brain could even process the landscape.

“Tsawke,” he hissed under his breath, stepping instinctively between her and the shadow moving near the tree line.

Tsawke didn’t move. She just leaned down, her camera resting against her chest, her eyes widening as the threat materialized out of the golden Córdoba grass.

It wasn't a puma. It was a dog.

It was a medium-sized, scruffy creature of entirely untraceable lineage—mostly light brown with one white ear that flopped over lazily, and a coat that looked like it had spent the last week intimately acquainting itself with the local burrs. He stopped about ten feet from the blanket, lifting one front paw slightly, his tail giving a single, cautious, rhythmic thump against the dirt.

Neteyam exhaled a long breath, his shoulders dropping two inches. “A stray? Up here?”

“Not a stray, a local inspector,” Tsawke corrected, her voice dropping into a delighted whisper. She slowly sank to her knees on the blanket, entirely abandoning her camera. “Look at those ears, Neteyam. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He smelled the food from three ridges away.”

The dog took two tentative steps forward, his nose working overtime as it tracked the steam rising from the skillet. He didn't look starved, just incredibly hopeful, possessed of that specific mountain-dog confidence that assumed every human with a campfire owed him a tax.

“We shouldn’t feed him,” Neteyam said, though his voice lacked any real authority. He was mentally reviewing the inventory of their supplies, calculating the nutritional value of their dinner. “It compromises his hunting instincts, and if he follows us, we don't have enough—”

“Oh, shut up and give him a piece of meat, Sully,” Tsawke laughed, already reaching toward the cutting board. She tossed a small, cooked corner of beef into the dirt midway between them and the dog.

The dog didn't hesitate. He snatched it out of the air with a soft snap, swallowed it whole without chewing, and immediately sat down, fixing them both with an intense, unblinking stare that practically demanded an encore.

Neteyam shook his head, a helpless smile breaking through his serious expression. He looked at the dog, then at Tsawke, who was now sitting cross-legged with her chin in her hands, completely charmed by their new visitor.

“Fine,” Neteyam murmured, turning back to the stove and cutting off another piece. “But he stays outside the tent. That’s my final negotiation.”

── ・⸝⸝ ⟢ ⸝⸝・ ──

The temperature plummeted the moment the sun dipped below the granite peaks, turning the Córdoba sky into a freezing vault of stars.

Up in the rooftop tent, the space was exactly as small as Neteyam had feared. The thick canvas walls blocked the biting mountain wind, but they also trapped everything else—the heavy scent of pine, the soft hiss of their breathing, and the overwhelming, undeniable proximity of Tsawke.

Neteyam lay rigid on his back, his sleeping bag zipped tightly to his chin. He was staring at the ceiling, his heart doing a frantic military march against his ribs. Every time Tsawke shifted, the fabric of her sleeping bag brushed against his. When she turned to her side, her face was only inches from his shoulder, her soft, even breaths cutting right through his usual discipline.

He was a guy who could survive in the wild with a knife and a compass, but right now, the simple warmth of her shoulder pressing against his arm made him feel completely out of his depth. He didn't dare move, terrified that if he relaxed, he’d turn around and do something he couldn't undo—like pull her closer.

"Sully," she whispered, her voice low and raspy with sleep.

Neteyam swallowed hard, his neck stiff. "Yeah?"

"You're breathing like you're about to jump out of a plane. Relax. I don't bite unless you touch the camera."

A faint, breathless laugh escaped him, and the tension in his shoulders finally fractured. "Just... making sure I don't crowd you."

"You're not crowding me," she murmured, shifting slightly closer until the side of her head rested near his arm. "Go to sleep."

It took him an hour, but listening to the steady rhythm of her breath, he finally did.

The morning light woke them with a harsh, crisp chill. When Neteyam unzipped the tent flap and looked down the metal ladder, his jaw dropped.

Sitting directly below the first rung, curled into a tight, shivering ball of brown fur against the Jeep's tire, was the dog. He had stayed the entire night in the freezing cold.

As soon as Neteyam's boots hit the dirt, the dog scrambled up, his tail doing that familiar, rhythmic thump against the ground. Tsawke climbed down right behind him, her hair a wild halo of curls, and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Well," she said, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across her face. "I guess we have a co-pilot."

"Tsawke, we discussed this," Neteyam started, but he was already kneeling down, letting the dog sniff his knuckles. As he did, his fingers caught on a worn, dirty strap around the animal's neck. "Hey, wait. He has a collar."

Tsawke knelt beside him, her playful energy instantly shifting into something sharper, more observant. She gently pulled the collar forward. It wasn't the heavy-duty leather or thick nylon a local mountain farmer would use; it was a cheap, faded red urban collar. Hanging from it was a scratched metal tag.

She rubbed the dirt off the metal with her thumb. "It just says 'Canuto.' No phone number. No address."

Neteyam frowned, looking at the smooth, uncalloused pads of the dog's paws, then back at the collar. "This isn't a working dog from the valley. He doesn't know how to avoid the local briars."

Tsawke’s expression hardened, a flash of protective anger crossing her brown eyes before it softened into resolve. She looked down the long, empty gravel route leading back to the main highway.

"Someone drove up here and left him," she said, her voice dropping all its banter. "They figured a tourist would find him, or the mountain would take care of it."

Canuto seemed to understand the shift in tone. He let out a small, pathetic whine and rested his scruffy chin directly on Tsawke’s boot.

Tsawke looked up at Neteyam, her eyes defying him to argue. "We're not leaving him, Sully. I don't care about the inventory, the space, or your father's rules. He’s coming with us to Patagonia."

Neteyam looked at the scruffy dog, then at the fierce, beautiful determination on Tsawke's face. He knew his twenty-point checklist was completely ruined. There was absolutely no room in the Jeep for a medium-sized dog, extra food, and a water bowl.

He let out a long sigh, but a genuine smile broke through. "Fine. But he sleeps in the front seat. And you’re cleaning the fur off the leather."

"it is my car anyways"

Tsawke let out a sharp laugh, tossing her head back as she stood up from the dirt. She grabbed her keys from her pocket and unlocked the passenger door with a triumphant click.

“My leather, my rules. If I want a furry co-pilot, I get a furry co-pilot.”

Canuto, as if understanding he’d just won the lottery, didn't even wait for an invitation. The second the door swung open, he scrambled up into the footwell, shook a small cloud of dust out of his scruffy coat, and hoisted himself directly onto the passenger seat. He circled twice, let out a deep, satisfied dog sigh, and rested his chin on the center console, staring straight ahead at the windshield like he’d been navigating the Sierras for years.

Neteyam stood by the rear tire, his hands hovering in the air where he’d been preparing to organize the day's packing. He looked at the dog occupying his seat, then at Tsawke, who was already hopping into the driver’s side, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

“That’s my seat, you know,” Neteyam pointed out, though there was zero heat in his voice.

“Was your seat,” Tsawke corrected, leaning over the console to give Canuto a good scratch right behind his flopped-over white ear. “Now you’re the map-reader in the middle, or you’re squeezing into the back with the tactical backpacks. Come on, Sully, get in! The sun’s up, and Canuto wants to see the valley.”

Neteyam shook his head, a helpless, incredibly fond smile pulling at his lips. He walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and carefully climbed in, shifting the scruffy dog until Canuto’s head was resting right against his thigh. The space inside the Jeep, which had felt dangerously intimate the night before, was now a chaotic mix of camping gear, the scent of morning coffee, and a stray dog who had officially hijacked their road trip.

As Tsawke shifted into first gear and the Jeep began its bumpy descent down the mountain track, Neteyam looked down at the dog, then at her profile against the bright Córdoba sun. He realized his perfect checklists didn't matter at all—this was exactly how the road was supposed to feel.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

I hope you all enjoy it! it took me a time to realice how to continue this Serie, And i can say that it will be a part 5 and finally the part 6.

[ai4e]

Courtesy or more than that? 3

Synopsis: The journey begins, but not in the way Neteyam expected. Forced to leave behind his checklists and supply boxes, the Sullys' "perfect son" must learn to trust Tsawke's organized chaos. From the red earth of Misiones to the golden wetlands of Santa Fe, the miles traveled begin to dismantle Neteyam's barriers, revealing that the true destination isn't a place on the map, but the freedom to be himself alongside the girl who smells of jasmine and the open road.

Warnings: Human AU, fluff, slow burn, slight mentions of Sully family dynamics, Neteyam being an "overthinker."

HUMAN SULLY FAMILY

<<1 < PART 2 PART 4>

The sun was just beginning to tint the horizon of the reserve in orange when the roar of Tsawke's Jeep shattered the morning silence. Neteyam, who had been awake since five mentally reviewing a twenty-point checklist, stepped out of the house carrying two tactical backpacks, an extra thermal sleeping pad, and a supply box that seemed to hold enough food for a month.

He was focused, moving with that military efficiency Jake had instilled in him, trying to wedge the third backpack into the Jeep’s narrow trunk when a firm hand, covered by the sleeve of a technical jacket, rested on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“Sully, stop.” Tsawke’s voice was low, tinged with sleep but carrying that natural authority that always managed to disarm him.

Neteyam turned around, still holding a high-altitude sleeping bag. “I’m just making sure we have what’s necessary, Tsawke. Patagonia isn’t the northern sector; the weather there is…”

“The weather there is cold, not the zombie apocalypse,” she interrupted with a lopsided smile. She took a step closer, invading that personal space Neteyam no longer tried to protect. She began pulling out half of the things he had just packed from the back of the car. “You’ve got emergency rations for ten days, three sets of tools, and… seriously, Neteyam? An industrial water purification kit?”

“You never know if the cabin filters will be…” he tried to justify himself, feeling the heat rise up his neck.

Tsawke let out a soft laugh and set the box down on the dirt ground. She crossed her arms, leaning against the side of the Jeep, and looked him up and down. Neteyam had his braids perfectly gathered and was wearing a jacket that still smelled of clean laundry—a total contrast to her, who wore her usual "ready for chaos" look.

“Listen to me, perfectionist,” she said, closing the distance until Neteyam could smell the coffee she had just finished. “We’re going to see glaciers, not found a colony. If you fill the Jeep like this, there won't be any room for us to stretch our legs when we have to sleep in the seat because the rain won’t let us pitch the tent.”

She reached out and, with an almost distracted gesture, adjusted the strap of the backpack he was still wearing, her fingers brushing against his chest. Neteyam held his breath.

“Take half of that out,” she ordered, but her brown eyes sparkled with a tenderness that contradicted her tone. “Leave room for what’s important.”

“And what’s important, according to you?” Neteyam asked, regaining a bit of his confidence and lowering his voice.

Tsawke shrugged, hopping into the driver’s seat with enviable agility. “The sound system, my camera, and you not being so stressed that you forget to look at the landscape because you’re too busy checking the GPS. Get in, Sully. Either leave the dead weight behind, or stay here doing inventory with your father.”

Neteyam looked at the boxes on the ground and then at her, as she was already starting the engine. He let out a sigh. “Can we negotiate?” Neteyam asked, checking the boxes.

“Fine. Calculate four days' worth of supplies in those boxes because I’m already carrying the rest… and you’re not taking your tools unless it’s the basic survival kit, because I’ve already got the other stuff,” Tsawke determined, looking at him from the driver's window.

With a mix of resignation and an euphoria he couldn't hide, he left the extra boxes by the side of the road (Lo'ak would deal with picking them up and mocking him later) and climbed into the passenger seat.

As he closed the door, the space inside the Jeep felt small, intimate, and dangerously private, yet there was enough room to move or sleep. Tsawke shifted into first gear, and as they left the reserve, Neteyam realized that, for the first time in his life, he didn’t care about not having a Plan B. With Plan A—which was her—he had more than enough.

Several hours passed before the change in the road began to show. The landscape of the reserve disappeared in the rearview mirror, replaced little by little by the vastness of the open highway. During the first hour, the silence in the Jeep wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged.

Tsawke drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the window, rhythmically tapping the frame to the beat of an indie-rock song that filled the space. Neteyam, for his part, tried to concentrate on the digital map on his tablet, but his eyes kept returning to the warmth of her profile.

“Are you going to keep analyzing that screen, or are you going to admit you’re a little afraid of getting lost?” she asked without taking her eyes off the road.

Neteyam locked the tablet and set it on the dashboard. “I was just thinking about the tire pressure sensor being stable. The extra weight…”

“Sully,” she cut him off, this time with a real smile, not a mocking one. “Relax. Look outside.”

He sighed and forced himself to lean back in the seat. For the first time in years, he didn’t have to report to his father, nor mediate a fight with Lo’ak, nor watch over Tuk to make sure she didn’t fall into the river. It was just him, the asphalt, and the girl who smelled like the freedom he had never dared to ask for.

“In a little while we’ll enter Corrientes; I might detour toward the wetlands… I don’t know if it’ll be our first camping stop, but it’s a nice place to have lunch and rest before continuing on the route.”

Neteyam nodded, letting his body finally sink into the Jeep’s leather seat. The idea of the Esteros del Iberá fascinated him; he had read about the area's biodiversity, but seeing it through Tsawke’s eyes—who seemed to know every corner of the map as if it were her own backyard—was something entirely different.

“Iberá sounds good,” he murmured, allowing himself to close his eyes for a second. “I’ve seen photos of the channels, but I guess nothing does justice to actually being there.”

“Not even close,” she replied, turning up the music a bit. “Get ready, Sully. The ground there is water disguised as grass. If you sink, don’t expect me to use my Jeep to pull you out; I’ll leave you there with the capybaras.”

Neteyam let out a soft laugh, the first of many to come on this trip.

Two hours later, the suffocating humidity of the Iguazú jungle began to give way to an open, windier heat. The red earth of Misiones gradually faded into a paler ochre as they crossed the provincial border.

Tsawke turned the wheel with skill, veering off the main highway to head down the roads leading into the wetlands. The Jeep bounced rhythmically over the uneven terrain, and Neteyam had to grab the ceiling handle to keep from landing on her lap (though a part of him didn’t think that would exactly be a problem).

“Look at that,” Tsawke said, pointing toward a mirror of water stretching to the right of the road.

Neteyam leaned out the window. The landscape was surreal. Thousands of hectares of shimmering water, covered in water lilies and lotus flowers, where the wildlife seemed to be the true owner of the place. A group of capybaras lounged in the sun, completely indifferent to the Jeep passing by.

Tsawke stopped the vehicle near a small natural pier, where a lone willow tree offered generous shade. The silence of the place was interrupted only by the birdsong and the hum of dragonflies.

“Technical break,” she announced, jumping out of the Jeep before the engine had even finished cooling. “Pull out one of your 'negotiated supply' boxes, Sully. Let’s see if you packed anything decent.”

Neteyam climbed down with more relaxed movements. While she pulled a plaid blanket from the trunk, he looked for some food. As he approached her under the willow, he noticed Tsawke had taken off her technical jacket, leaving her in a black tank top that revealed her tattoos under the light filtered through the leaves.

They sat on the blanket, sharing sandwiches that Neytiri had prepared at the last minute and a thermos of cold water.

“See?” she said, pointing toward the horizon where the sky and water merged into an infinite blue. “This is what you were missing by counting how many spare bandages you had in your inventory.”

Neteyam looked at her. She had a small blade of grass in her hair and a lost gaze in the landscape, a peace she rarely showed at the reserve.

“You’re right,” he admitted, lowering his voice. “Though the inventory is still important.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she laughed, giving him a playful shove with her shoulder that made him lose his balance. “But I guess that’s why I invited you. Someone has to make sure we don’t forget to eat because we're too busy looking at the birds.”

Neteyam smiled, feeling the knot of responsibility he always carried in his chest loosen a bit more. Corrientes was just the beginning, and he already felt that this trip was going to change his definition of "home" forever.

── ・⸝⸝ ⟢ ⸝⸝・ ──

The passage through the Subfluvial Tunnel left Neteyam in a contemplative silence. He had gone from thick jungle to driving beneath the bed of one of the largest rivers on the continent. By the time they emerged on the Santa Fe side, the sky had become a vast, pink canvas, without a single mountain to interrupt the horizon line, bathing the Paraná River in a metallic gold tone. Tsawke decided they wouldn't continue to Córdoba that night; the driver’s fatigue was starting to show in her shoulders, even if she refused to admit it.

“We’ll look for a spot near the river,” Tsawke said, consulting her physical map as the Jeep moved along the route. “There’s a campground near Cayastá that’s usually empty this time of year. It has good trees and, most importantly, firm ground for the setup.”

They detoured toward a natural park near the coast, an open space with 4x4 access where the brush was low and the ground firm enough for the Jeep.

They arrived as the blue light of twilight began to dominate the landscape. The campground was a wide area, surrounded by weeping willows and the constant sound of water gently lapping against the shore. Tsawke maneuvered the Jeep with a precision Neteyam couldn’t help but admire, parking it under the protection of a cluster of trees.

“Alright, Sully, this is where you’ll see why I didn’t need your ten supply boxes,” Tsawke said with a spark of pride in her eyes as she killed the engine near a group of willows overlooking the river.

Neteyam got out of the car, stretching his back with a crack. He watched with curiosity as she nimbly climbed onto the roof of the Jeep. With a few precise movements, Tsawke released the latches of the robust rooftop tent. In a matter of minutes, the structure unfolded upward like an accordion, and then she let down the heavy canvas extension that reached the ground, creating a closed, private room right next to the vehicle.

“It’s… impressive,” Neteyam admitted, stepping closer to help secure the folding ladder. The “ground floor” of the tent served as a perfect refuge against the mosquitoes and the river wind, while the main sleeping area remained elevated on the roof of the Jeep.

“It’s efficient,” she corrected with a wink. “And it keeps us off the damp ground. Go up and drop off the sleeping bags while I set up the kitchen.”

Neteyam climbed the small metal ladder. The interior of the rooftop tent smelled like adventure and clean canvas. It was a small space, but perfectly designed for two people. As he laid out the sleeping bags side by side, he felt his heart hammering against his ribs. The intimacy of the Jeep was already a lot, but the mere thought of sharing this elevated refuge, isolated from the world, took things to a level his mind still didn’t know how to process.

When he climbed down, Tsawke had already lit a small camping stove, and the aroma of coffee and reheated stew began to float through the cool Santa Fe night air.

“Everything ready upstairs?” she asked, handing him a metal mug.

“All set,” he replied, sitting beside her in a pair of folding chairs.

They stayed in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the river and the distant croaking of frogs. The air in Santa Fe was different from Misiones; it was lighter, more open. Neteyam looked at Tsawke, whose silhouette was outlined against the light of the small stove. The hanging lantern cast soft shadows against the canvas walls, isolating them from the rest of the world. For the first time, he didn’t feel like the heir to the reserve, nor she like the rebellious scientist. They were just two people, lost in the middle of the road, with thousands of miles ahead of them.

“Tomorrow we cross into Córdoba,” she commented, breaking the silence. “Get ready, Sully. That’s where the air starts getting serious.”

“You know,” Neteyam said, while stirring a simple noodle stew in the pot, “I never thought I could feel this much peace being a thousand miles away from home.”

Tsawke, who was sitting on a toolbox starting to check her camera, looked up. The lamp's light highlighted the orange in her curls. She stared at him for a moment in silence, letting the sound of the river and the soft bubbling of dinner fill the space.

“It’s because here, no one expects you to be 'Son of the Year,' Neteyam,” she said with an honesty that caught him off guard. “Here, you’re just a guy on a road trip. And I like this guy better than the one who always has a clipboard in his hand.”

Neteyam didn’t respond with words. He simply leaned back and allowed himself to enjoy the moment. He looked down at the food, trying to hide the smile that threatened to give him away.

That night, under the Santa Fe sky, the tent extension felt much larger than it was, as if those canvas walls could hold all the things they didn’t yet dare to say out loud.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

[ai4e]

courtesy or more than that?

Sinopsis: On a day marked by the humidity of the reserve and the unmistakable scent of jasmine and coconut, Neteyam Sully struggles to maintain his facade as the efficient leader everyone expects, while his inner world is destabilized by Tsawke’s presence. What begins as a routine workday transforms into a series of silent revelations: from the discovery that Neteyam keeps her scent on his clothes, to the domestic warmth of shared breakfasts at the Sully house, where the barriers between the professional and the personal vanish.

Pairing: clueless reader (female OC) × Human!Neteyam

Warnings: lots of fluff, Human AU. In this universe Neteyam is 18. To understand this AU you need to read the blogs that explains the dynamics between the characters:

HUMAN SULLY FAMILY

< PART 1 PART 3>

 ── ・⸝⸝  ⟢  ⸝⸝・ ──

The North Sector of the reserve was buzzing with activity. A supply truck had arrived early, and the air was thick with humidity and the smell of wet tires. Neteyam was there, trying to project the image of the efficient leader everyone expected, but his mind was a chaos of jasmine and coconut.

Neteyam was noting the arrival of boxes of medicine and animal supplements on his tablet. When he heard the roar of Tsawke’s Jeep, his heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself not to look up immediately.

Tsawke jumped out of the vehicle, her braid impeccable and her work shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing her tattoos. She approached him with that feline step that characterized her.

—"Punctual as always, Sully. I thought your mother’s sheets had trapped you," she said with a lopsided smile, brushing past him to grab one of the heavy boxes as if it weighed nothing.

Neteyam closed the tablet and joined the heavy lifting. —"I’m the chief’s son, Tsawke. Punctuality is in my DNA," he replied, trying to sound confident.

He stood beside her to lift a medical equipment container. As he did, Neteyam’s arm brushed hers. In that instant, the scent of jasmine and coconut invaded his senses again. It wasn’t the faint trace from the t-shirt; it was her, real and present.

Neteyam froze for half a second, holding the box in mid-air. His fingers slipped slightly and the box wobbled.

—"Careful, 'Teyam. If you break the ultrasound equipment, Jake is going to have you cleaning monkey cages for a month," Tsawke said, placing a hand over his to stabilize the load.

She stayed there for a moment, her hand over his, looking him straight in the eyes. Tsawke had her full attention on him. She usually looked bored or distracted by half the world—there were exceptions: Neytiri, Leon, Tuk, Trudy, and the animals—and Neteyam felt she could read every single one of his thoughts about the t-shirt hidden in his closet by the way her brown eyes looked directly into his with the attention she granted to very few.

—"You’re being weird today," she murmured, lowering her voice so the other workers wouldn't hear. —"You have that look you get when you’re trying to solve a math problem you don’t understand. Did you sleep well?"

Neteyam swallowed hard, feeling his ears grow hot. —"Yes, perfectly. Just... a lot of caffeine at breakfast..."

Tsawke narrowed her eyes, amused. She leaned in closer, invading his personal space. She opened her mouth to say something when her nose wrinkled in a confused expression; she sniffed the air near his neck.

—"It’s curious... you smell exactly like my hair oil. Did you happen to use your sisters' or Neytiri’s shampoo to smell like Jasmine?"

Neteyam almost dropped the box again. —"No! I... it’s the house soap, for sure."

Tsawke let out a short laugh and went back to loading supplies, but before walking away, she winked at him.

—"If you wanted to copy my perfume, you only had to ask, Sully. No need to be so secretive."

Neteyam stood there, frozen in the middle of the mud, watching her walk away with a box on her shoulder. A mocking, euphoric smile spread across his face as he adjusted his uniform. He knew she had caught him, but most importantly, she didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it.

—"Everything okay, bro?" Spider asked, passing by with a bundle of hay.

—"Better than ever, Spider. Better than ever," Neteyam replied, returning to work with renewed energy, feeling that her attention on him had just dialed up a notch.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

In this modern universe, breakfasts at the Sully house are the epicenter of the reserve. It’s not planned; it just happens. Around 6:30 AM, Jake and Neytiri’s kitchen becomes a service station for the younger workers.

Tsawke and Spider usually arrive together, sometimes in her Jeep or on the reserve’s motorcycles, smelling of morning dew and reheated coffee. They don’t knock; they walk through the kitchen as if they live there. While Spider goes straight to the fridge to fight Lo'ak for the orange juice, Tsawke moves with natural calm, greeting Mo'at with a kiss on the cheek and helping Neytiri set the plates. It’s a scene full of life and "small moments."

Neteyam always tries to look presentable once he noticed Tsawke and Spider started coming over for breakfast more often, but when Tsawke sits next to him, his professionalism wavers. He slides her coffee over exactly how she likes it (black, very strong).

Jake simply loves observing the scene from the head of the table, half-hidden behind his newspaper or tablet, enjoying the noise. To him, seeing Spider and Tsawke there is a sign that the reserve is in good hands; besides, those two young workers are usually quite solitary, so seeing them being friends with his children is a pleasant sight. Meanwhile, Neytiri enjoys feeding everyone. She often puts an extra portion for Tsawke, knowing the girl will skip lunch if she gets lost on a patrol in the North Sector.

When breakfast ends, the house empties in a rush. Everyone heads to the vehicles: Spider and Lo'ak competing to see who reaches the stables first, Kiri and Tuk walking toward the visitor center, and Neteyam and Tsawke walking a bit slower toward the Jeep.

In that moment, when they are out of Lo'ak’s earshot, Tsawke stops and adjusts the collar of Neteyam’s shirt. There it is again, that detail of hers.

In the reserve, the work never stops, and for Neteyam, the hours of patrol or maintenance with Tsawke are the moments where the line between "coworkers" and "something more" becomes dangerously thin.

Don’t misunderstand—Neteyam loves those small moments of attention from Tsawke. But he can’t help feeling sometimes that he confuses kindness with flirting... At least, that was the case until today.

So many things happened during the day that he didn't really know what to think anymore. In the morning, they had received a report of an injured animal near the mangroves. Neteyam carried the medical gear on his back and Tsawke went ahead, moving through the mud with an agility that left him mesmerized.

The terrain was difficult. At one point, Neteyam slipped on a submerged root. Before he could fall into the water, Tsawke’s hand caught him with impressive strength. She didn't let go immediately. She pulled him toward her, leaving them only inches apart. The heat of their bodies contrasted with the cold humidity of the forest. With a husky whisper, she said: "Watch your step, Sully. If you get that perfect uniform dirty, your mother is going to blame me."

Neteyam, still trying to regain his balance but without pulling away: "Maybe I just wanted to see if your reflexes were as fast as you say." The result? She gave him a playful shove on the shoulder and kept walking, but Neteyam noticed that for the rest of the way, she made sure to leave space so he could step exactly where she did, while still maintaining proximity, their hands brushing occasionally.

Later, when they were returning to the Jeep, it started to rain. They took shelter in Tsawke’s cabin because the rain became much heavier, and usually, during rain, the path from Tsawke’s cabin to Neteyam’s house inside the compound is slippery and dangerous since it’s dirt. It’s currently being remodeled.

Tsawke insisted until she got Neteyam to shower and wear her brother Leon’s clothes while she showered in her bedroom’s bathroom. When she came out, drying her braids with a towel, he was petrified seeing her making popcorn in baggy clothes with her curls tied up in a bun.

He stood in silence observing the scene with a slight need not to break the peace of the place. Neteyam knows perfectly well that Tsawke is usually very reserved or sometimes distrustful when her intuition says something specific about someone she doesn't trust; everyone knows Tsawke doesn't get involved more than necessary... And now that he thinks seriously about it, watching her continue making snacks after noticing him and telling him they were going to have a movie marathon until the rain stopped... He realizes that maybe she does appreciate his company. The rain wasn't that heavy; she could have easily driven him home. Instead, they took shelter in her cabin to watch movies... Plus, they were watching his favorite movie. They got comfortable on the sofa; she placed her legs across his lap, lying completely down on the sofa while he sat with the bowl of popcorn in his left hand. He dared to place his right hand on one of her thighs when her leg was about to slip off the couch... and she said absolutely nothing. They continued watching and commenting on the movie as if his heart wasn't doing backflips over the closeness between them.

Anything else to add to the day?

That midday storm, which ended around 3:00 PM, had damaged the radio tower sensors at the highest point of the reserve. They went up together at 9:00 PM to fix it before the next rain front arrived. Up there, the wind blew hard. Neteyam was focused with the electric screwdriver, trying to see the wires under the light of his headlamp. Tsawke held the protection panel so the wind wouldn't hit his face. To protect themselves from the cold, they ended up pressed back-to-back while working on different sides of the panel.

"You know? You could have stayed down there. I could handle this alone."

"And miss the chance to see you fight a copper wire for an hour? No way. Besides... it’s quieter up here than in the house with Lo'ak and Spider."

He simply let out a laugh and continued working, ignoring the fact that he could now feel her hand on his back as she adjusted herself to hold the panel better and make his work more comfortable. When they finished, they sat for a few minutes on the edge of the platform, looking at the distant lights of the compound buildings. Tsawke rested her head on Neteyam’s shoulder for a second—a gesture of trust so rare in her that Neteyam almost stopped breathing so as not to break the moment.

These moments of the day simply left Neteyam physically and emotionally exhausted. When they got into the Jeep to rest for a bit, Neteyam just closed his eyes, leaning back in the passenger seat. Tsawke was sitting with her muddy boots hanging outside the vehicle with the door open, checking a physical map and her passport full of stamps. "Hey, Sully," she said without looking away from the map, receiving only a murmur of a "yes" in response from Neteyam. "I get vacation in two weeks. I’m going to Patagonia. There’s a puma reserve I want to see and a couple of glaciers that won't be there forever."

Neteyam nodded, feeling that familiar sting of envy and resignation. "Sounds incredible, Tsawke. Bring back photos. You know Kiri loves cold landscapes."

Tsawke folded the map with a sharp movement and looked at him intently. Her orange streaks glowed under the moonlight.

"I don't want to bring back photos. I want someone to help me with the camping gear and who won't complain when the coffee tastes like dirt."

Neteyam froze, opening his eyes just enough to look forward as if his neurons were working hard to reach a single idea. "Who are you going to convince? Spider?" He let out a light laugh, shifting in his seat.

Tsawke rolled her eyes and leaned toward him, invading his personal space until he could smell the jasmine in her hair.

"Spider is a mess. I’m talking to you, idiot. Do you want to come, or are you afraid the cold will mess up your braids?"

Neteyam’s brain made the same noise as an engine trying to start in winter. "Me? With you? But... the reserve... My dad needs me to help with the winter inventory and..."

"Jake already said yes," she interrupted him with a smirk. "I talked to him this afternoon. He said it would do you good to stop being so 'uptight' and see a bit of the real world. So the only question is if you dare."

Neteyam felt a surge of euphoria that almost made him jump, but he forced himself to maintain a minimum of dignity, settling back into the seat to look her in the eyes with a half-smile.

"Well... if my father insists... and if you really need someone who knows how to read a GPS better than you do..."

"Don't make me regret it, Sully," she joked, but her gaze was unusually soft. At that response, he gave a nervous smile before buckling his seatbelt as she started the Jeep.

"Yes, I’d love to go with you," he finally said. They remained in a comfortable silence while Neteyam celebrated mentally, seeing the smile and the faint blush on her cheeks.

And there he finally understood, while looking out the Jeep window, that his feelings are most likely reciprocated—since she asked HIM to go on the trip and not Leon. And if not, let him be happy with that illusion he’s been waiting for almost a year, wondering if he could make a move or not. But his respectful nature and knowing that Tsawke is hard to get close to had prevented him from taking a romantic step.

Now, he simply waits for the trip with great anticipation.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

< PART 1 PART 3>

[ai4e]

courtesy or more than that?

Sinopsis: In this Human AU, Neteyam is no longer the untouchable “perfect son” but a 18‑year‑old young man learning to balance responsibility with his own desires. Between his meticulous routines, quiet moments of self‑care, and the warmth of family dinners, he finds himself increasingly drawn to Tsawke, Leon’s younger sister. What begins as subtle admiration—her noticing his carefully braided hair, her presence at the Sully household—slowly unfolds into a tender, almost secret affection. Neteyam’s quiet victories, like receiving a single compliment from her, become monumental in his private world, revealing a side of him that is vulnerable, hopeful, and deeply human.

Warnings: lots of fluff, Human AU. In this universe Neteyam is 18. To understand this AU you need to read the blog that explains the dynamics between the characters:

Human Sully Family

PART 2> 3>>

Pairing: clueless reader (female OC) × Human!Neteyam

 ── ・⸝⸝  ⟢  ⸝⸝・ ──

Within the quiet sanctuary of his room—far from Jake’s watchful eyes and Lo’ak’s restless antics—Neteyam finally allowed himself to shed the mantle of the “perfect son” and simply exist as a young man of Eighteen. Rare were the moments when he could truly breathe, yet he cherished them. Often, he spent time with Leon, who had become more than a mentor, almost an elder brother. Leon had taught him much, lessons that now shaped Neteyam’s responsibilities within the Sully reserve. Still, beyond conversation, meals, or companionship, what Neteyam treasured most was solitude.

The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the window or the muted warmth of his bedside lamp. Here, he indulged in a ritual that felt like therapy: tending to his equipment. With meticulous care, he dismantled and polished his tools—his sporting bow, his knives, his mechanical instruments. Each piece restored to order gave him a sense of control, a fragile balance he often lacked in the chaos of social life. Music played softly in the background, never intrusive—perhaps lo-fi, perhaps the acoustic melodies Neytiri favored—something that allowed his thoughts to wander while his hands worked with precision.

Yet his social life carried its own quiet rituals. Neteyam had always cared about his appearance, but lately he had become almost obsessive. Night after night, he sat before the mirror, undoing and reweaving a braid ten times over until not a single strand dared rebel. The rhythm of his fingers was a meditation, a calming tide that stilled his mind.

And when he walked the compound, fulfilling his duties as always, there was a secret he carried with a hint of embarrassment: he longed for the praise of one particular voice. Tsawke. Leon’s younger sister, sharp-eyed and diligent, one of the finest workers in the reserve. For three years she had proven herself observant, analytical—and she noticed everything. She always noticed Neteyam’s hair. Her words of admiration, marveling at his patience and skill, meant more to him than he dared admit. Especially when she confessed her own struggle with her wild curls, a contrast that made her compliments all the sweeter.

That night, the reserve breathed with freshness, the air scented by damp earth and alive with the chorus of nocturnal creatures. In the infirmary, Tsawke moved quietly, her calico-colored curls gathered into a messy bun, held by a golden clip that let orange and white strands spill free. A sleeveless shirt revealed the tattoos winding across her arms as she arranged gauze and antiseptics with practiced ease. She had taken the night shift so a colleague could celebrate her son’s birthday. For Tsawke, the hush of the clinic, paired with the gentle calm after rain, was a peace she cherished.

The door opened with a familiar creak. It was Neteyam, he looked relentless: he wore a dark blue linen shirt that highlighted his brown skin tone and, most notably, he had freshly styled Fulani braids that fell with precision.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without mud on your face, Sully,” Tsawke joked without lifting her eyes from the inventory.

Neteyam leaned on the doorframe, with that smile she knew was her weakness. “My mother insisted that today we all have dinner together. She says you work too much and doesn’t want you to have dinner alone while Leon is away helping at the Mendoza reserve. She doesn’t accept a no as an answer.”

Tsawke sighed, putting down the notebook. The idea of a homemade dinner cooked by Neytiri was much better than the vending machine sandwich or cold pizza she had planned. “All right. But if an emergency comes up with one of the baby coatis, I’m leaving.”

With that they walked toward the Sully house, which from the outside showed itself to be a cozy chaos. Jake, with his usual green reserve t-shirt and relaxed attitude, presided over the table while Neytiri and Mo’at finished serving a stew that smelled glorious.

It was a typical dinner; Lo’ak and Spider (who came straight from the stables with their hair a mess) fought over the last piece of bread. Kiri spoke with Tsawke about some strange plants she had found near one of the rivers.

Meanwhile Neteyam couldn’t stop looking at Tsawke sitting right across from him, trying to maintain his “older son” composure while Tuk told everyone how Tsawke had taught her to identify the tracks of different animals in the reserve or how she let her carry one of the baby coatis earlier before the mud fight between Lo’ak, Spider, and Neteyam happened.

Tsawke fit in perfectly. Although her style was rougher and more adventurous, Neytiri’s warmth and Mo’at’s wisdom made her feel she didn’t need to be defensive.

…

Around eleven at night, Tsawke stood up and looked for the keys to her Jeep that she had left on the entry table when she arrived.

“It’s been an incredible dinner, but I have to go back to the infirmary just in case, and then to my cabin,” she said, already adjusting her jacket.

Neytiri, who was picking up the dishes, looked at her with her maternal authority that no one dared to question. “No way, Tsawke. It has started raining again and the reserve roads are dangerous at night. Besides, the Jeep has one of the front lights failing, do you think I didn’t notice?”

“I can handle it, Neytiri, really. I don’t want to bother any more—” Tsawke tried to protest.

“No.” Neytiri said firmly with a steady smile. “You will stay in the guest room. Neteyam or Kiri can lend you clean clothes. Tomorrow morning you can leave, but tonight you sleep under this roof.”

Tsawke looked at Jake who only said, “We can’t risk your Jeep slipping on one of the roads in this rain.” And the girl turned to look at Neteyam for help, but he simply shrugged with a triumphant smile. “She’s right, the southern sector is very slippery. Stay, Tsawke…”

And after a silence where Tsawke shifted between looking at an authoritative Neytiri, a relaxed Jake finishing clearing the table, and a Neteyam drying his hands after cleaning the dishes, she simply accepted her fate, sighing as she left her jacket and keys on the entry table again.

…

Minutes later, Neteyam guided Tsawke to the guest room. He handed her one of his gray cotton t-shirts, which was big on her and smelled of the citrus detergent he used, along with a pair of Kiri’s plaid pajama shorts.

“Thanks, Sully,” she said, leaning on the doorway of the room already dressed, since Neteyam insisted on putting her clothes to wash so that in the morning she would have clean clothes (he knows she won’t go back to her cabin to change if she can save time). She looked strangely small without her work gear.

Neteyam stayed there a second longer, admiring how the few orange strands of her curly hair shone under the warm hallway light.

“You’re welcome. Rest… scientist. See you at breakfast.”

He turned to walk toward the laundry, but Tsawke called him in a whisper before he went further. “Hey… the new braids look good on you… good night, Teyam.”

Neteyam didn’t respond, but Lo’ak, who was passing through the hallway on his way to the bathroom, saw how his older brother entered the laundry room with a noticeable blush and a smile that couldn’t fit on his face.

Later that night, when Neteyam closed the door to his room and made sure the latch clicked, the mask of “perfect and serene” completely crumbled.

He leaned against the wooden door, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh he had been holding back ever since she told him about the braids.

He clenched his fists and released a whispered “YES!” in a near-shouted victory, while giving a small jump on the spot. He knew he probably looked a little ridiculous, but it wasn’t just any compliment; it was THE compliment. He had spent almost two hours or more in front of the mirror that afternoon, his arms aching from braiding and tightening each strand, searching for that perfect symmetry he knew Tsawke’s detail-oriented eyes would notice.

“She noticed… oh, she definitely noticed,” he murmured to himself, with a grin so wide it made his cheeks hurt.

He began pacing back and forth across the room, unable to stay still. He looked at himself in the wardrobe mirror, patting his own shoulder. “Good job, Sully. The effort was worth it.”

But what really had him on the verge of emotional collapse was the mental image of Tsawke, just a few meters away in the hallway, wearing his shirt. That gray cotton garment he used for sleeping now wrapped around the woman who occupied at least 60% of his thoughts.

He threw himself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment he handed it to her. He had imagined that scene so many times—Tsawke in his space, with his scent, under his roof—that seeing it materialized felt like a dream.

—“It’s huge on her… and she looks incredible,” he thought, burying his face in the pillow to muffle a laugh of pure euphoria.

Suddenly, a rhythmic knock on the wall he shared with his brother’s room interrupted his trance.

—“I CAN HEAR YOU CELEBRATING FROM HERE, FREAK!” Lo’ak’s voice shouted through the wall. “Stop jumping on the bed, you’re going to knock down my posters!”

Neteyam froze, feeling the heat rise from his neck to his ears. —“Shut up, Lo’ak! I’m organizing my boots!” he shouted back, trying to recover his authoritative older-brother voice.

—“Yeah, right! Your boots don’t sigh like a lovesick girl!” Lo’ak replied, laughing.

Neteyam rolled his eyes, but couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He settled under the sheets, listening to the rain tapping against the window and knowing that, in the room next door, the “Shadow” was resting wrapped in his scent.

That night, the future director of the reserve didn’t sleep much; he was too busy planning how to act “casual” at breakfast, while his heart kept celebrating that blessed extra 5% of attention he had just earned.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The morning in the Sully house began with the usual aroma of strong coffee and the sound of residual rain dripping from the roof. Tsawke was already in the kitchen, but to the boys’ surprise, she no longer wore the gray shirt. She had gotten up early, taken a quick shower, and was already dressed in her cargo work pants and boots, her curly mane tied back in a practical braid.

She had breakfast with them quickly, sharing some toast with Jake while discussing the state of the roads after the storm.

—“Thanks for the shelter, Neytiri,” said Tsawke, giving Neteyam’s mother an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder before leaving. “Sully, see you at the north sector entrance in an hour. Don’t be late.”

She threw a quick glance at Neteyam, who barely managed to mutter “I’ll be there” while hiding his sleepy face behind a cup of coffee. As soon as Tsawke’s Jeep roared and disappeared down the muddy path, Neteyam went upstairs with the excuse of collecting the bedding.

Upon entering the guest room, Neteyam stopped in his tracks. Everything was spotless. Tsawke, with her almost military discipline and respect for others’ spaces, had stretched the sheets so that not a single wrinkle remained. The curtains were open, letting in the gray morning light.

At the foot of the bed, perfectly folded, were the shorts Kiri had lent her and, on top, his gray cotton shirt.

Neteyam exhaled a sigh of relief, finally feeling alone. He approached the bed and picked up the shirt with both hands. His intention was simply to take it to the laundry basket, but as soon as the fabric moved, a warm rush of air hit him directly in the face.

It wasn’t a subtle fragrance; it was a sensory invasion. The shirt was completely infused with Tsawke’s personal scent: an intoxicating blend of wild jasmine (the oil she used for her curls) and a sweet undertone of coconut, mixed with that clean smell of skin after rain.

Neteyam closed his eyes and, unable to resist, buried his face in the fabric, inhaling deeply.

It was as if she were still there. The scent was wild yet comforting, exactly like her. For a moment, the outside world—the reserve, his responsibilities as future leader, Lo’ak’s teasing—disappeared. Only that trace of jasmine and coconut woven into the cotton fibers remained.

“Are you… are you smelling your own clothes, brother? That’s a new level of desperation, even for you.”

Neteyam stiffened like stone and slowly turned. Lo’ak was leaning against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised, his face full of brotherly judgment.

“I was… I was checking if… if it was clean enough to put away again,” Neteyam stammered, clutching the shirt to his chest as if trying to hide it.

“Sure. Because we all know the way to check if something’s clean is to bury your face in it for thirty seconds with your eyes closed,” Lo’ak mocked, stepping into the room. “You smell like jasmine from the hallway, ‘Teyam. You’re lost. Completely lost.”

Neteyam pressed the shirt against his heart, regaining at least a shred of his older-brother dignity.

“Get out of here, Lo’ak. You’ve got stables to clean.”

As soon as his brother left, chuckling under his breath, Neteyam looked at the garment again. He didn’t take it to the laundry basket. Instead, he folded it with almost religious care and stored it at the back of his own closet. He knew that that night, when he couldn’t sleep thinking about Tsawke’s next trip, that jasmine-and-coconut scent would be the only thing keeping his world in balance.

Maybe… he really was a little lost…

︶︶︶ 𔓕 ︶︶ ୨୧ ︶︶ 𔓕 ︶︶︶

PART 2> 3>>

Thanks for reading.

[ai4e]

Human Sully Family

Ok, first of all this is my very first post… So hi, nice to meet you, I’m Aimé. Now, let’s get to what this post is about.

✨ Human Sully family ✨ While I was scrolling through Pinterest, jumping from one picture to another as always, I don’t even know at what point I went from looking at clothes to suddenly seeing Avatar (the blue ones). And then this image popped up:

That reminded me of a couple of TikTok videos I saw about “what if…” — if the Avatar characters lived in modern times and Pandora didn’t exist. And now I can’t stop thinking about it, I swear. I built this huge mental story in my head with plot, geography, and jobs. I even created a storyline for my Avatar OC within this “what if…” scenario. It’s honestly one of the best fanfictions my brain has ever come up with, so I thought: “Why not post it on Tumblr? What do I lose by trying?”

So that’s why you’re reading this, little person on the other side of the screen. Whether people read it or not, I’m happy because later I get to reread my own fanfic and re‑imagine the scene my delulu brain already pictured, you know what I mean? 🥸

Now, let’s start with the headcanons:

Main and Secondary “Pandora” Reserves

Main reserve (Sully family): Located on the border of Brazil and Argentina, in Misiones near Iguazú Falls — tropical rainforest, red soil, massive waterfalls, and rich biodiversity.

Secondary reserve: In Mendoza, Argentina, in the Andes region — protecting species and glaciers, with dry air and a more arid climate.

Awa’atlu reserve: In Fernando de Noronha, Brazil — Caribbean‑like Atlantic zone, famous for biodiversity and coral reefs, turquoise waters, tropical climate, and protected marine life. Just like Awa’atlu.

Characters and Roles (Human version)

Jake: ex - Former special forces soldier, now director of the reserve. Coordinates security and logistics against poachers.

Neytiri: Head of wildlife conservation, expert tracker, knows every species in the Misiones jungle. Possibly of Indigenous descent through Mo’at, daughter of the founders of the original Amazon reserve.

Neteyam: Patrol chief and field engineer. Learned vehicle maintenance from Jake and Chacón. Keeps surveillance tech running. Still the “perfect son,” but with more adventurous spirit.

Lo’ak: Junior ranger and rescuer, always in trouble for following his instincts. Adopted a stray dog from the highway, thought it was male until they groomed it — “Cae” became “Caeli.” They’ve been inseparable ever since.

Kiri: Biologist and botany specialist. Taught by Mo’at, cherished despite being adopted. Spends time in the lab, walking the reserve, caring for animals (with my OC), and leading reforestation projects.

Tuk: Student and “field assistant in training.” The family’s cheerful soul who loves animals. Carries an instant camera everywhere, pastes photos into a notebook to record everything.

Allies

Spider: Guide and rescuer in the reserve. Still close friends with the Sully kids. An orphan raised in the reserve.

Trudy Chacón: Former military pilot who, after leaving the service, becomes the helicopter pilot and aerial logistics coordinator for the reserve. Handles supply transport, aerial patrols, and medical evacuations in remote areas. She’s the “cool aunt” of the Sully kids: teaches them how to fly drones, read maps, and always has adventurous stories. Her rebellious nature sometimes clashes with Jake, but they respect each other because of their shared military background.

Norm Spellman: In this universe, he is a university professor and scientific advisor to the reserve. Specialist in ecology and environmental education, organizes workshops with local communities and students. Acts as the bridge between academic research and field practice.

Max Patel: Doctor and community health coordinator. Provides care for both reserve workers and nearby communities, combining modern medicine with traditional knowledge (in collaboration with Ronal). Also supervises biosecurity protocols in Kiri’s laboratories.

The Metkayina Family

Tonowari: Director of the marine reserve, imposing man dedicated to protecting reefs from illegal trade and hunting.

Ronal: Veterinarian and spiritual leader of the local community. Expert in traditional medicine applied to marine animals, also a marine biologist.

Tsireya & Aonung: Specialists in tactical diving and environmental education.

Other Possible Allies:

Local Indigenous community: cultural and spiritual guardians of the forest, working alongside Neytiri in conservation.

International volunteers: young people who arrive each summer to support reforestation, scientific diving, or wildlife rescue projects.

Environmental NGO: finances part of the infrastructure and connects the reserve to global conservation networks.

My OCs

Tsawke (my OC): Student of geology and sustainable energy engineering. Has worked in the reserve for 3 years, starting at 15 as a summer tour guide or helper. Lives with her older brother Leon (her legal guardian) in a cabin provided by the Sullys for workers. At 16 she began working full‑time, learning everything. Trusted deeply by Jake and Neytiri. Independent, relaxed, loves traveling like her brother.

Leon: Three years older than Tsawke, became her guardian at 18 after their parents (marine biologists) died in a storm. Moved to Misiones to live with an aunt, later got a job at the reserve. Skilled at everything, taught Neteyam tricks like a big brother. Considered by the Sullys as a “cool older brother figure.” (i ship him with Trudy)

Reserve Transportation

They usually use jeeps or off‑road vehicles. Tsawke’s cream‑colored jeep is special — only used with her permission. She drives it everywhere, even taking the Sully siblings to “civilization.” Leon gifted it to her when she got her license, so she’d stop stealing his truck (used for supplies).

Relationship Map – Human Version

Sully Family (central core)

Jake ↔ coordinates with Trudy on aerial security and with Leon on ground logistics.

Neytiri ↔ works with the Indigenous community on conservation and with Kiri on biodiversity projects.

Neteyam ↔ learns mechanics from Leon and receives technical support from Norm.

Lo’ak ↔ often gets into trouble, but Spider and Trudy usually rescue him.

Kiri ↔ collaborates with Max on biosecurity and with Norm on research.

Tuk ↔ documents everything, serving as the cheerful link among all allies.

Main Allies

Trudy Chacón ↔ connects the reserve through the air, works with Jake and Leon, and is the “cool aunt” to the Sully kids.

Norm Spellman ↔ academic bridge, collaborates with Kiri and Neteyam, and organizes workshops with the community.

Max Patel ↔ trusted doctor, works with Ronal on traditional medicine and with Kiri on lab protocols.

Spider ↔ inseparable friend of the Sully kids, support in rescues.

Metkayina Family (marine reserve)

Tonowari ↔ marine director, coordinates with Jake on inter‑reserve security.

Ronal ↔ connects traditional medicine with Max and environmental education with Neytiri.

Tsireya & Aonung ↔ work in tactical diving and education, collaborate with international volunteers.

OC & Leon

Tsawke ↔ apprentice of everything, bridge between Sully kids and logistics.

Leon ↔ older brother figure, respected by Jake, collaborates with Trudy, and considered “cool” by everyone.

Other Allies

Indigenous community ↔ cultural link with Neytiri, spiritual guardians of the forest.

International volunteers ↔ support reforestation and diving projects with Tsireya & Aonung.

Environmental NGO ↔ finances infrastructure, connects with Norm and Jake for global projects.

🔎 Conclusion

I imagened this network functions like a human ecosystem of Pandora:

The Sully family is the emotional and operational heart.

The allies are the arteries carrying science, health, logistics, and culture.

The Metkayina family expands the scope toward the sea, while the Indigenous community anchors the cultural roots.

Leon and Tsawke act as generational and practical bridges, integrating the Sullys with external allies.

Together, they form a cohesive world where every character plays a vital role, and their relationships intertwine into a mutual support system. Each one strengthens a different aspect—security, science, health, culture, or logistics—making the human Pandora universe feel rich, believable, and collaborative.

Well, I think this is what my content will be about for a long time