before i even knew of house's existence, i've watched another couple of obviously gay, definitely too hot doctors
they're chaotic. they bicker all the time. they're one mean older man and one fluffy marshmallow nepo baby. and despite the show giving them both women to chase, i refuse to acknowledge their straightness. like, come on. they even shared a body at times.
they're cha young-min and go seung-tak of ghost doctor.
— 2153, the year my baby was born. I held her tightly in my arms, afraid one of the scientists will take her from me as soon as we land back on Pandora. Her skin was the softest I’ve ever felt, her precious eyes luring me into staying with her much longer, and her lips, nearly pink whining for the first time. I felt peace within my world.
“Trudy?” a man spoke through the door, I ignored it—my attention focused on my child as she held on of my fingers fully with her hands. “My angel,” I placed a peck on her forehead making her snort.
Knocks appeared on my door, this time the man entered. “What, Norm?” my voice, with the same rasp occurred, obviously disturbed by his appearance. “We’ve been needing you for—“ he checks on his watch and counts, “an hour now. Is there a slightest chance for you to do you job?” he whines, I rolled my eyes at his behavior as I slowly put my baby back on her crib. “Thank you.” he sighs, “Tell one of your science friends I need someone to take care of Clove while I’m gone.” I say, my eyes still couldn’t resist my girl. “Roger that.”
— 2157, running around the hallways never caring who’ll be in front of her as she plays with her tiny drones almost pissing everyone off. “Clove, put it down!” one of the marines yelled, her response was to only put her tongue out and make a noise. “This whiny–“ before the guy could make a move, one of the pilot’s came close to stop him. “Just a kid, let it go.” he says, he forgot how many times he has repeated that phrase already trying to save the little girl—his only student in the ship. “Next time she’ll be receiving a beating, Park.” he scoffs, pushing the guy aside.
“Clovey,” the little girl ignored him as she continues to go around “Clovey!” he snaps a finger in front of her, switching her attitude from a child to a marine. “Yes sir!” she puts a hand up to her forehead, he chuckles at her sudden behavior as usual. “Want to go flying, sweetheart?” that one phrase, and the only phrase that could make a little girl like her erratic. “Yes!!” She grinned so hard and released her controller from her hands as she hugged the man’s leg. “Fly, fly, fly!!”
That poor little girl, he says to himself. He was the only one taking care of her, ever since her mother died due to the war caused by “Jake Sully.” The man never even knew her mother, but what he knows is that the man who betrayed his own race was the same man who led her mother to her death.
— 2163, “Clove Chacón.” The new general has uttered, crossing her arms. “Have you been training that child lately?” the general raises the question, her voice getting higher. “Yes, general.” Park looks down, not in disappointment but in terror that the woman in front of him might fire him because of his behavior. “Has she been good at it?” she doubles, “Yes, general.” he nods.
“Mr. Park, oh Mr. Park, you’ve done so well. For us and her—“ she stops for a moment, Park was confused as he slowly places his head up. “I’m sorry?—“ “Would you mind if we take her under our wing?” the woman smirks, tilting her head slightly towards the left trying to take a glimpse of Park’s expression; shocked, confused, and… terrified of what they’ll do to her.
She wasn’t even Chacón’s little girl anymore, she was his little girl. He wanted to say no the moment the general has said her statement, but he knows, they all know—no one can reject such a request. “What are you planning?” he asks, almost slipping his words. “You know the drill, marine.” she laughs, slowly roaming around the room “train her a bit more, learn the navies, speak na’vi, be na’vi.” she stops, waiting for a response from Park who was awfully silent. “It’s not like she’s your kid, Park.”
Park gulps his words, she was right. She wasn’t his daughter to begin with, but his words came out otherwise. “Take any other kid, not mine.” he stares her down, finally gaining the confidence. “The thing is marine, you don’t have a say.” she pats his shoulder as he shrugged it. “No—“ he scoffs, “She’s not suffering the same fate as her mother!” he felt his cheeks turn red.
“She’ll be an avatar for godsake! What I can assure you is that she won’t have the same death as her.” she chuckles, “You don’t need her.” Park stated.
“We need a child; a wind trader. She’s more than a need.”
— “Mr. Park, I have a feeling you’ll have to retire soon!” she shouts through the comms, giggling in the air as she outdo her trainer in flying. “No need to be cocky, that’s not even half of what I know.” he says back to her as he catches up to her quickly and blocks her view. “Hey! Mr. Park!!” She whines, but quickly got a hold of it—overtaking the man in a quick corner. “Pstt..” he groans, “how many times have I told you that path is dangerous, bee?” he stops his flight.
“I’ve taken you there so many times though.” she rolls her eyes, “We’re supposed to be aggressive anyways, we’re fighting literal beasts.” she adds in, a chuckle escaped the both of them. “Let’s go back to the base, shall we?”
“Right, wait for me!”
They head down their helicopters, Clove kissing her baby as usual. “Thank you, angel.” that’s what she calls her helicopter; Angel.
“Ridiculous,” Park mutters, Clove comes running towards him giggling. “So, when can we fly again?” she says, picking up the pace of Park.
“Bee,” he stops at a quiet hall, “Yeah?” “They want to take you.” he drops the bomb, Clove laughs im confusion. “What do you mean?”
He pressed his hands on her shoulders, taking a deep breath. “The general wants to train you. To be—to be an avatar.” Clove’s smile quickly disappeared.
One thing about her is that her heart floods with hatred towards those tall blue aliens. She hated the way they look, they act, their so-called-god Eywa, and most of all; she hated them ‘cause they killed her only family.
From standing tall, her shoulders rinse down, “You’re lying.” she stares back at him, eyes blurry. “I’m sorry—“ “You’re lying!” she yelled at him, removing his hands off her. “You know damn well! You know it!” she cries, “What could I have said?—“ “I would kill myself!” she looks insane, like an escaped ill person. “I would scratch every bit of skin I have the moment they make me into one!”
“Bee, I had no choice! She was gonna take you no matter what. Please just—“ he tries to plead, but was loss of words. “Trudy, my mother died because of those beasts!” she whimpers, her body slowly crawling into a ball as she reaches the floor caging her knees with her arms. “I know, I know.” Park knees to her, trying to hug her as he places a peck on her forehead. “Don’t let them take me, Park.” she whispers to his ear, begging—so desperately trying to avoid the risk of becoming one of the aliens. “I don’t want to be in their skin.” she places her head on his shoulder. “I should’ve protected you, Bee. I should’ve.” His hug on her tightens.
— “Clove Chacón, your mother was a great warrior.” one of the avatar has spoken, he died in a battle with Jake Sully personally killing him—yet now he’s reborn as an avatar. Clove wonders what he feels right now, especially that he looks exactly like the ones he tried to end in the beginning. “Thanks.” She says, avoiding eye contact, rocking her chair. “I can assure you young lady, I will make you greater. Maybe the greatest, till your greed is fulfilled.”
“I don’t need to be another being to be great. I am better off as human.” she scoffs, the avatar got closer to her—offended by her words. “You think I wanted this?” Chuckling, tilting his head to the side. Clove couldn’t help but look at him from above, his tall figure towering her. “No, sir.”
“If there’s something that I could predict in your eyes… I could tell, you live for humanity.” he sighs, kneeling one before her. “Am I right kid?” he smirks, “Yes, sir.” she nods. “You want to finish what your mother has been apart of, yes?” his eyes lingering the girl. “Yes, sir.”
“You haven’t been assigned to my area yet, unfortunately. But you will be starting somewhere, a clan called the wind traders.” She notes down each word he has stated carefully. “After your two months of training, you will be made into an avatar—hm.. which will take about 3 years.”
“3 years? Ship-time?” she asks, she knew the consequences over this—but she was never sure how long it took to be an avatar. ‘Thought it’ll only be ‘round a year’ she says to herself. “Indeed.”
Can we get another neteyam smut?? Js wanted to say i love ur writing
- an: AHH thank you so much, i appreciate sm!!! i hope you enjoy this and apologies for the time it’s taken for me to upload this!
⤷ neteyam x fem!eldest daughter!metkayina reader
- cw: lower case intended, aged up!neteyam, dialogue isn’t accurate to the second movie (i made it up >_<), they bond over oldest sibling trauma, smut, p in v, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), slight forbidden romance trope, fluffy, reader feels conflicted, neteyam+reader are both inexperienced and guide each other, some sort of aftercare, let me know if i missed out on anything!
- an: not proofread as always bc i’m too lazy
- wc: 7k
- summary: when the sully family arrives at the reef seeking uturu, the future of the metkayina quietly shifts. as the eldest daughter of tonowari and ronal, you are expected to observe, assess, and remain distant, duty before feeling, always. but in the strangers you are meant to judge, you recognise something familiar.
neteyam sully carries the same weight you do, eldest child, quiet protector, burdened by responsibility and expectation. when your father tasks you with teaching him the ways of the reef, what begins as obligation slowly becomes understanding, and not long after, developing feelings and simmering tension.
༻༺
the conch shell's deep, resonant call echoed across the reef, pulling you from your work in the healing marui. you straightened, wiping your hands on the woven cloth at your waist, and exchanged a glance with the elder you'd been assisting. visitors were rare. visitors announced with such urgency were rarer still.
by the time you made your way through the winding paths between the marui pods, a crowd had already gathered at the shore. you could see the tension in the way your people stood, shoulders tight, spears held just a bit too firmly. your father's broad back was visible at the front, your mother beside him with that sharp, assessing look she wore when evaluating threats. tsireya stood near them, her expression curious rather than cautious, and ao'nung, of course, had already positioned himself with rotxo and the other warriors, chest puffed out like a skimwing displaying its fins.
you slowed your approach as you took in the scene before you.
five ikran perched awkwardly on the beach, their wings folded, their riders dismounting with visible exhaustion. forest people. you'd heard stories, seen them once or twice in your childhood when trade parties came, but never like this. never seeking refuge, if the tension in the air was any indication.
the family stood close together, a defensive formation disguised as casual grouping. the father was tall, his bearing unmistakably warrior-bred despite the weariness in his shoulders. toruk makto, you realized with a start. jake sully. the stories about him had reached even your distant shores. beside him stood a woman whose grace reminded you of the ocean's deadly currents, beautiful, fluid, and dangerous. his mate, certainly. their children clustered around them, four of them, varying ages, all with those distinctly omaticaya features.
"we seek uturu," jake sully was saying as you took your place beside your mother, silent and observant as was expected of you. "a safe harbor for my family."
your mother's hand moved to her swollen belly, a protective gesture, though her face remained stern. "we are reef people. you are forest people. your skills will mean nothing here."
you felt the weight of your role settle over your shoulders like a familiar shawl. eldest daughter. future tsahìk, perhaps, or at the very least, a leader among your people. your opinion would matter in this decision, even if unspoken. so you watched, catalogued, assessed.
the eldest son, you assumed, stood slightly ahead of his siblings, protective, responsible. you recognised the posture, you wore it yourself most days. his braids were adorned with beads and small tokens, his bow slung across his back with the ease of someone who'd been born with a weapon in hand. strong shoulders, lean build, those thin arms your brother would undoubtedly mock later.
as if sensing your arrival, his gaze shifted.
for a moment, his eyes met yours across the gathered crowd, and something flickered in his expression, surprise, perhaps, or recognition of something kindred. his lips parted slightly, and you watched him forget, just for a heartbeat, to maintain that careful warrior's mask. his eyes were gold-flecked amber in the sunlight, warm against his blue skin, and they traced your face with an intensity that made you feel suddenly, strangely visible.
you kept your expression neutral, though you felt your tail twitch once behind you, an involuntary response you quickly stilled. this was not the time for distractions. you shifted your gaze deliberately to his father, to the matter at hand, though you remained aware of the way the eldest son seemed to struggle to do the same.
"their arms are thin," ao'nung's voice carried from where he stood with rotxo, not quite whispering. "look at their tails. they will be slow in the water."
rotxo snickered. "useless. they are useless here."
the youngest daughter, barely more than a child, pressed closer to her mother, and you felt a flicker of sympathy despite yourself. you knew what it was to be judged, to have expectations placed upon you before you'd even spoken a word.
"we will learn," the eldest son said, his voice steady despite the obvious sting of the mockery. his eyes hadn't strayed far from you, you noticed, though he was trying valiantly to focus on your father. "we will adapt. my father has passed through the eye of eywa. he has.."
"i have heard of toruk makto," your father interrupted, his voice deep and measured. he glanced at your mother, then at you. you could feel him seeking counsel in the silence, in the way your family had always communicated in the spaces between words.
you gave the slightest nod, not approval, not yet, but acknowledgment that you were paying attention, that you would support whatever decision he made. your mother's jaw was tight, her protective instincts warring with the sacred law of uturu. tsireya looked hopeful, already seeing friends where others saw outsiders.
the eldest son, neteyam, you heard his mother call him softly, squared his shoulders, but his eyes kept drifting back to you, as if trying to read your verdict in your carefully neutral expression. you gave him nothing, though something in your chest tightened at the desperation barely hidden beneath his proud stance.
these were not conquerors. these were refugees.
your father's sigh was heavy with the weight of leadership. "toruk makto and his family will stay," he began, and you could feel the shift in the air, relief from the sully’s, uncertainty from your people. "we will teach you our ways, so you do not suffer the shame of being useless."
the decision was made. your life, you sensed with the strange knowing that sometimes came to you, had just shifted course like a current changing with the moon.
and when neteyam’s eyes found yours again, gratitude and something warmer shining in their depths, you allowed yourself the smallest acknowledgment, a brief meeting of gazes before you looked away, your role as the reserved, responsible daughter firmly back in place.
but you had seen him see you.
your father found you that evening as you were checking the nets near the eastern reef, your hands moving with practiced efficiency through the woven fibers.
"the eldest son," tonowari said without preamble, settling beside you with the ease of someone who had spent his entire life by the water. "neteyam. you will teach him."
your hands stilled. "tsireya is already teaching the others-”
"tsireya teaches with her heart open to everyone," your father said, not unkindly. "she will do well with the younger ones. but the eldest..." he paused, his gaze distant on the horizon where the sun was beginning its descent. "he carries weight, that one. like you. he will need someone who understands him.”
someone responsible. someone dutiful.
someone like you.
"when do we begin?" you asked quietly.
your father's hand rested briefly on your shoulder, warm and heavy with trust. "tomorrow. at dawn."
neteyam was already waiting when you arrived at the beach, the sky still painted in shades of purple and gold. he stood at attention, shoulders back, every inch the warrior despite the uncertainty you could read in the tension of his jaw.
"You are early," you observed, stopping a respectful distance away.
"i did not want to keep you waiting." his voice was formal, careful. "thank you for agreeing to teach me."
"it is my duty," you replied, and something flickered across his face, disappointment, perhaps, though it vanished so quickly you might have imagined it. "we begin with breathing. in the forest, you breathe from here-" you touched your chest, "-quick and shallow, ready to move. in the water, breath comes from here." your hand moved to your stomach. "slow. steady. the ocean does not reward panic."
he watched your demonstration with complete focus, those golden eyes tracking every movement. when he tried to mirror you, his breathing was too fast, too high in his chest.
"slower," you instructed, stepping closer. You hesitated, then placed your hand lightly on his diaphragm. his skin was warm beneath your palm, and you felt him tense at the contact. "feel the breath move here. like waves. in... and out."
neteyam closed his eyes, and you watched his face smooth into concentration. gradually, his breathing deepened, slowed, his chest rising and falling in the rhythm you'd shown him.
"good," you said softly, and when you withdrew your hand, you tried to ignore the way your palm still tingled with warmth.
the days fell into a pattern. dawn lessons on the beach, then into the shallows, gradually deeper as his comfort with the water grew. neteyam was a quick study, frustratingly so, in a way, because it gave you fewer reasons to maintain your professional distance.
he listened when you spoke. actually listened, his full attention on your words as if you were imparting sacred knowledge rather than simply explaining how to read the current or which coral to avoid. he asked thoughtful questions. he never complained, even when you knew the salt water stung his eyes or his muscles ached from swimming in ways his forest-trained body wasn't accustomed to.
and he was kind to the ilu when you introduced him to them, patient and gentle in a way that made something in your chest feel too tight.
"they can sense fear," you explained, watching him approach the creature you'd called for him. "but also respect. treat them as partners, not tools."
neteyam extended his hand slowly, letting the ilu come to him. when it nudged his palm, his face broke into a smile so genuine and unguarded that you forgot, for a moment, to maintain your neutral expression.
he caught you almost-smiling and his own grin widened. "what?"
"nothing," you said quickly, looking away. "make the bond. let him feel your heartbeat."
three weeks in, you were diving deep in the reef, neteyam following your movements with increasing confidence. you'd shown him how to move efficiently through the water, how to conserve his breath, how to read the behavior of the fish and the sway of the anemones.
now you watched as he practiced, his body finally finding the rhythm of the ocean. he'd tied his hair back like the metkayinan men, and the way the dappled sunlight played across his shoulders as he swam made you forget to look away as quickly as you should have.
when you both surfaced, his face was bright with exhilaration. "i held my breath for three minutes!"
"three minutes and twenty seconds," you corrected, but you couldn't quite suppress the small smile that tugged at your lips. "you are learning quickly."
"i have a good teacher." the way he said it, looking directly at you with those warm eyes, made you feel suddenly too aware of how close you were treading water, how alone you were out here beyond the reef.
you dove again without responding, but you felt his presence behind you like a warmth in the water
it was during a rest on the rocks, both of you catching your breath after a particularly long dive, that the conversation shifted into dangerous territory.
"do you ever..." neteyam started, then stopped, staring out at the endless ocean. "do you ever wish you could just be yourself? not the olo'eyktan's daughter, not the example, just... you?"
your breath caught. it was the same question you'd asked yourself countless times, always late at night when no one could see the cracks in your composure.
"it does not matter what i wish," you said finally. "i am my father's daughter. my people need me to be-"
"perfect," he finished quietly. "always perfect. always responsible. never allowed to make mistakes because too many people are watching."
you turned to look at him then, really look at him, and saw your own exhaustion reflected back. the weight of being the eldest. the constant pressure. the loneliness of always having to be strong.
"yes," you whispered.
neteyam's hand moved across the rock, not quite touching yours but close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin. "my father brought us here to keep us safe. my siblings get to make friends, to laugh, to just... be kids. but i have to make sure we're not a burden. that we fit in. that i don't do anything that might make things harder for my family."
"that is what it means to be the eldest," you said, but your voice was softer now, the walls you'd maintained so carefully beginning to crack.
"is it lonely for you too?" he asked, and the vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache.
you should have deflected. should have stood up and declared the lesson over. should have maintained the distance that was proper, safe.
instead, you let your hand shift those final inches until your smallest finger barely brushed against his.
"yes," you admitted. "it is lonely."
you sat there as the sun climbed higher, hands almost-but-not-quite touching, two eldest children who'd found someone who finally understood.
when you finally stood to continue the lesson, neteyam looked up at you with something in his eyes that made your pulse quicken, gratitude and longing and a question he was too dutiful to ask.
you extended your hand to help him up, and when his fingers wrapped around yours, you held on just a moment longer than necessary.
"come," you said, your voice not quite steady. "i want to show you the cove where the tulkun rest. it is... special to me."
you’d never shown anyone that place before. it was yours, private, a refuge from the weight of expectations.
the sun was beginning its descent when you called your ilu, the sky painted in shades of amber and rose gold that turned the ocean into liquid fire. your heart hammered against your ribs, you were really doing this, breaking your own unspoken rule, letting someone into the one place that was entirely yours.
neteyam called his own ilu, and you caught the question in his eyes, ‘where are we going?’, but you only offered a small, secretive smile before diving beneath the surface.
the water embraced you like an old friend, cool and welcoming. you led him away from the main reef, away from the village and the familiar training grounds where your siblings might see, where your parents' eyes might follow. the water here grew deeper, the light filtering down in shifting columns of gold and blue, and you felt rather than saw neteyam following close behind, trusting you completely even as you took him farther from everything he knew.
your ilu knew the way by heart, having made this journey countless times. you guided her through a forest of kelp that swayed like dancers, past a school of silver fish that parted around you like a living curtain. neteyam stayed close, and once, when you glanced back, you found his eyes not on the beauty surrounding you, but on you, watching you with an intensity that made warmth bloom in your chest despite the cool water.
the passage was narrow, hidden between two towering rock formations that most na’vi passed without ever noticing the gap between them. you'd found it years ago, seeking solitude after a particularly difficult day of being your father's perfect daughter, when the weight of expectations had threatened to crush you. the entrance was disguised by trailing seaweed and coral growth, invisible unless you knew exactly where to look.
you guided neteyam through, the space so tight that your ilu had to swim single-file, the stone walls pressing close on either side. the passage curved, blocking out the light from behind, and for a moment you swam through near-darkness, only the faint bioluminescence of the algae on the walls providing any illumination. you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, feel the weight of the stone above you, the intimacy of this hidden path that only you knew.
then the passage opened up.
the cove was sheltered on three sides by high cliffs draped in thick vines and night-blooming flowers that were just beginning to open, their petals luminous white in the fading light, releasing a sweet fragrance that hung in the still air. the water here was impossibly calm, protected from the ocean's currents by the surrounding stone, its surface like polished glass reflecting the colors of the sunset, amber, rose, deep purple, and gold all bleeding together in a masterpiece that eywa herself had painted.
the beach was small, a crescent of fine white sand that glowed faintly in the dimming light. smooth rocks jutted from the shallows, worn into comfortable seats by centuries of waves. the cliffs created a natural amphitheater, and the acoustics made every sound, the lap of water, the call of evening birds, your own breathing, feel intimate and close.
already, bioluminescent algae was beginning to wake beneath the surface, tiny stars of blue-green light pulsing in the depths like a second sky beneath the water. the effect was disorienting, beautiful, as if you floated between two heavens.
but most magnificent were the tulkun.
two of them rested in the deep water of the cove, their massive forms moving with the slow grace of breathing mountains. their skin glowed with intricate patterns that pulsed gently, spirals and whorls that seemed to tell stories in a language older than words. their presence filled the space with a sense of ancient peace, of wisdom and patience that made all your worries feel small and distant.
you heard neteyam surface behind you, heard his sharp intake of breath, and turned to watch his face as he took in the sight.
his expression was one of pure wonder. his lips parted slightly, his eyes wide as they moved from the glowing tulkun to the flower-draped cliffs to the mirror-still water that reflected the dying light. water streamed down his face, caught in his eyelashes, dripped from his hair, and he looked so beautiful in this moment of unguarded awe that your chest ached.
"this is..." his voice was hushed, reverent, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the magic of this place. "i have never seen anything like this."
"no one has," you said softly. "no one but me. i have never brought anyone here before."
his eyes snapped to yours, and the weight of what you'd just admitted hung between you. you watched him process it, the significance of being the first, the only one you'd trusted with this secret place.
"why me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
you couldn't answer yet. instead, you swam slowly toward the center of the cove, and he followed, both of you moving carefully in this sacred space. the water was warmer here, heated by the sun-baked rocks, and it felt like silk against your skin.
one of the tulkun, a female you'd known since childhood, turned her great eye toward you, and you felt the rumble of her greeting vibrate through the water, through your bones, settling somewhere deep in your chest like a second heartbeat.
"this is where i come when the weight becomes too much," you said quietly, swimming closer to the tulkun. "when I need to remember who i am beneath all the expectations. beneath the title and the duty and the constant watching." you reached out to touch her side, and her skin was warm beneath your palm, textured like ancient stone worn smooth by centuries of waves. "when i need to remember that i am more than what everyone needs me to be."
neteyam swam closer, his movements slow and respectful. his eyes moved between you and the tulkun with something like wonder, but also understanding, as if he recognized this need for sanctuary, for a place where you could simply exist without the weight of who you were supposed to be.
"she knows you," he observed, watching the way the tulkun leaned slightly into your touch.
"i have been coming here since i was a child." you gestured for him to approach, and after a moment's hesitation, he did, swimming until he was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body in the water. "her name is muyä. she does not judge. does not expect. she simply... is. and when i am here, i can simply be, too."
you guided his hand through the water, bringing it to rest beside yours on the tulkun's flank. his fingers were long and elegant, and you were acutely aware of how close they were to yours, how easy it would be to let them slide together.
the tulkun sang, a low, resonant sound that you felt in your bones, in your heart, in the very core of you. it was a song of welcome, of recognition, of peace. neteyam's eyes widened, and you saw the exact moment the song reached him, the way his whole body seemed to resonate with it, his lips parting in wonder.
"what is she saying?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.
you closed your eyes, letting the song wash over you, translating the feelings and images that muyä shared. "she welcomes you," you said softly. "she says... she says you carry the ocean in your heart now. that you belong to the water as much as the forest." you opened your eyes to find him staring at you with such intensity that your breath caught. "she says you carry something else, too. something heavy. but that here, you can set it down for a while."
neteyam's hand shifted beneath the water, his fingers finding yours, threading through them with a gentleness that made your heart stutter. his thumb traced small circles on the back of your hand, and such a simple touch shouldn't have felt so intimate, but it did, it felt like everything.
"you brought me here," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "to your place. your sanctuary. the one place that is entirely yours, and you... you shared it with me."
"yes." the admission felt like stepping off a cliff, like free-falling through open air with no idea if there would be anything to catch you.
"why?" he turned to face you fully, and you were suddenly aware of how close you were, how alone, how the setting sun painted his skin in shades of gold and amber that made him look like something out of a dream. "why me?"
the question hung between you, heavy with meaning. you could deflect, could give him some safe answer about trust or friendship or teaching. but here, in this place where you came to be honest with yourself, you couldn't lie to him.
"because you understand," you whispered. "because when i am with you, i do not feel so alone in this weight we carry. because you see me."
neteyam's free hand came up slowly, giving you time to pull away, but you didn't. his fingers traced the line of your jaw with devastating gentleness, and you felt that touch everywhere, like lightning spreading through water.
"i see you," he said, and the intensity in his eyes made your breath catch, made your heart race so fast you were sure he could hear it. "i have seen you since the moment i arrived. even when you tried to hide behind duty and distance, i saw you. and you are..." his thumb traced your cheekbone, and you couldn't help the way your eyes fluttered closed at the touch. "you are everything."
when you opened your eyes, he was closer, close enough that you could count the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes, could see the way his pupils had dilated until his eyes were more black than gold.
the water lapped gently around you, the tulkun's song a low harmony beneath the thundering of your heart. you should pull away. should remember your duty, your responsibility, all the reasons this was dangerous. your father trusted you to teach neteyam, not to... not to feel like this. not to want like this.
but his hand was warm against your face, and his eyes held yours with such open longing that you felt something inside you crack wide open.
"neteyam," you breathed, and you weren't sure if it was a warning or a plea.
"tell me to stop," he said, his voice rough, strained. he leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching yours, and you could feel his breath against your lips. "tell me this is wrong, that we cannot.. that i should not-"
"i cannot," you interrupted, your voice breaking. your hand came up to rest against his chest, and you could feel his heart racing beneath your palm, as wild and desperate as your own. "i cannot tell you to stop because i do not want you to. i should want you to, i know i should, but i..”
"we could ruin everything," he whispered, but he didn't pull away. if anything, he leaned closer, until you were sharing breath, until the space between you was so small it barely existed. "my father needs your clan's acceptance. your father trusted you to teach me, not to-"
"i know," you said, and your hand fisted in his hair, holding him close even as every rational thought screamed at you to let go. "i know all the reasons we should not. but i am tired, neteyam. so tired of being perfect. of always doing what is expected. of never being allowed to want anything just for myself."
his hand slid from your face to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair, and the touch sent shivers down your spine despite the warm water. "what do you want?" he asked, his lips so close to yours that they almost touched with each word. "tell me. please."
you should lie. should pull away. should swim back through that narrow passage and pretend this never happened, that you never brought him here, that you never let him see the parts of you that you kept hidden from everyone else.
but you were so tired of lying, even to yourself.
"you," you whispered, the word barely audible over the gentle lap of water and the tulkun's song. "i want you. i have wanted you since the first day, and i have tried so hard not to, but i cannot.. cannot keep pretending that i do not."
something in neteyam's expression shifted, the last of his restraint crumbling, the careful control he'd maintained for weeks finally breaking. "i choose you," he said fiercely, his hands tightening on you. "i have been choosing you since the first moment i saw you. every day, every lesson, every stolen glance, i have been choosing you. and i am tired of pretending i do not."
"this is dangerous," you said, even as you pulled him closer. "if anyone finds out-”
"then we will be careful," he said. "we will be smart. but I will not give this up-”
you kissed him.
you closed the last breath of distance between you and pressed your lips to his, swallowing whatever he was going to say next. for a heartbeat, he froze, as if he couldn't quite believe this was happening. then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, and he kissed you back with a desperation that matched your own.
it started soft, almost tentative, as if you were both afraid of breaking something precious. his lips moved against yours with careful reverence, and you could feel him trembling, or maybe that was you, maybe you were both shaking with the force of finally, finally giving in to what you'd been wanting for weeks.
but then your fingers tightened in his hair and a small sound escaped your throat, and something in both of you snapped. the kiss deepened, grew hungry and desperate and wild. his hands slid down your back, pressing you closer, and you gasped against his mouth at the feeling of his body against yours, solid and warm and real.
you kissed him like you were drowning and he was air. like you'd been holding your breath your entire life and only now remembered how to breathe. his tongue traced the seam of your lips and you opened for him, and the taste of him, salt water and something uniquely him, made your head spin.
one of his hands tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further, and the other gripped your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin hard enough that you knew you'd feel it tomorrow, would have that reminder of this moment, of him.
you broke apart only when your lungs burned for air, both of you gasping, foreheads pressed together. his pupils were blown wide, his lips swollen and wet from your kiss, and he looked at you like you were something sacred, something precious, something worth risking everything for.
"we should not.." you started again, but he shook his head, cutting you off.
"i know," he said roughly, his voice wrecked. "i know all the reasons we should not. but for once, just once, i want to choose something for myself. i want to be selfish."
"and you choose this?" your voice was barely a whisper, your heart in your throat.
"i choose you," he said fiercely, his hands tightening on you as if he was afraid you might disappear. “even if it is selfish, even if-"
you kissed him again, cutting off his words, pouring everything you couldn't say into the press of your lips against his. the tulkun sang around you, the water glowed with bioluminescent light, and for the first time in your life, you let yourself want something just for you.
when you finally pulled back, the sun had set completely, and the cove was illuminated only by the glow of the water and the tulkun's patterns, turning everything into a dream of blue and green light. neteyam’s face was soft with wonder and desire, and you knew your own expression mirrored his.
"we cannot tell anyone," you said, even as your heart ached at the words, at the necessity of hiding this. "not yet. not until..”
"i know." he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your lips. "we will be careful. we will be smart. but i will not give this up. i will not give you up."
you nodded, unable to speak past the emotion clogging your throat. Instead, you took his hand and led him to the small beach at the edge of the cove, where you could sit in the shallows.
the water lapped gently at your waist before you settled into the soft sand, bioluminescence swirling around you both like liquid starlight. neteyam's hand was still in yours, his thumb tracing absent patterns on your palm that sent shivers up your arm.
"i have never..." he started, then stopped, his ears flicking back slightly. "i do not know how to.."
"neither do i," you admitted, your heart racing. the confession should have embarrassed you, but instead it felt like another secret shared between you, another way you understood each other. "but i want to. with you. i want..."
you trailed off, not quite able to voice the desire that had been building in you for weeks, the want that made your skin feel too tight and your breath come short whenever he was near.
neteyam's free hand came up to cup your face, his touch achingly gentle. "tell me what you want," he said softly. "please. i need to hear you say it."
the vulnerability in his voice, the way he looked at you like you were something precious and sacred, gave you courage. "i want you to touch me," you whispered. "i want to touch you. i want to know what it feels like to be close to someone, to choose this, to-”. "i want to be yours, just for tonight. just for now."
"not just for tonight," neteyam said fiercely, leaning in until his lips brushed yours with each word. "not just for now. you are mine, and i am yours, for as long as you will have me."
then he was kissing you again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made heat pool low in your belly. his hand slid from your face to your neck, his thumb resting against your racing pulse, and you gasped into his mouth at the possessiveness of the gesture.
your hands found his chest, exploring the planes of muscle, the ridges of his ribs, the rapid beating of his heart that matched your own. his skin was warm and smooth under your palms, and when you dragged your nails lightly down his sternum, he made a sound, half gasp, half groan, that sent liquid heat through your veins.
"can i..” his hands hovered at the edge of your top, the woven covering that suddenly felt like too much barrier between you. "may i.. touch you?"
"yes," you breathed, and helped him untie the knots at your back with trembling fingers.
the covering fell away, and for a moment you felt exposed, vulnerable in a way you'd never been before.
"you are perfect," he whispered, his hands hovering just above your skin as if he was afraid to touch, afraid this might be a dream. "can i.."
"touch me," you said, more confident now. "please, neteyam. i need-”
his hands settled on your waist, warm and slightly rough from training, and slowly, so slowly it was almost torture, slid upward. when his palms finally cupped your breasts, you both made sounds of pleasure, your head falling back as sensation sparked through you.
"is this-” his thumbs brushed over your nipples, and you gasped. "does this feel good?"
"yes," you managed, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance. "yes, it feels..” you let out a quiet moan.
he did it again, more deliberately this time, watching your face with intense focus as if memorizing every reaction. then he leaned down and replaced his thumb with his mouth, and the wet heat of his tongue made you cry out, your fingers tangling in his braids.
"you taste like the ocean," he murmured against your skin, kissing across to your other breast. "like salt and something sweet. i want to taste all of you."
the words, so unlike his usual careful speech, made you bold. your hands found the ties of his loincloth, and you felt him tense, his breath catching.
"can i?" you asked, echoing his earlier question.
"please," he said roughly. "please.." he repeated in a whiny tone.
you untied the knots and pushed the fabric aside, and for a moment you both just looked at each other, fully bare in the glowing water. his body was beautiful, all lean muscle and smooth skin, marked with the bioluminescent freckles that glowed softly in the darkness. and his cock, hard and flushed darker than the rest of him, made your mouth go dry with want and nervousness.
"i want to touch you," you said, reaching out tentatively. "will you show me how?"
neteyam's hand covered yours, guiding you to wrap your fingers around him. he was hot and hard and silky-soft all at once, and when you stroked experimentally, his hips jerked and he made a sound that was almost pained.
"like this?" you asked, doing it again, fascinated by the way his eyes fluttered closed, the way his breath came faster.
"yes," he groaned. "yes, exactly like that..” he whimpered.
you explored him with growing confidence, learning what made him gasp, what made his hands tighten on your waist, what made him whisper your name like a prayer. his cock was slick at the tip, and when you rubbed your thumb over it, he shuddered.
"i need-" he caught your hand, stilling your movements. "if you keep doing that, i will not last, and i want.. i want to touch you too. i want to make you feel good."
he guided you back onto the sand, and settled between your thighs. his hands stroked up your legs, and you trembled at the intimacy of it, the vulnerability of being spread open before him.
"tell me if anything does not feel right," he said, his voice rough with desire but his eyes serious. "tell me if you want me to stop."
"i will," you promised. "but please, neteyam, i need-”
his fingers found your cunt, where you were already slick with more than just seawater, and you gasped at the contact. he explored you carefully, reverently, watching your face as he learned what made you moan, what made your hips lift seeking more.
"you’re so soft here," he murmured, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves that made pleasure spark through you. "so wet."
you mewled, your hands fisting in the sand. "more, please.."
he slid one finger inside you, and the stretch was strange but delicious at the same time, especially when he curled it and found a spot that made you cry out. he added another finger, working you open with patient care, his thumb still circling your clit until you were writhing beneath him, desperate for something you couldn't quite name.
"i want to taste you," he said suddenly, his eyes darkening with desire. "i want to put my mouth on you."
you replied in a whiny, needy tone. “please teyam.. please.”
he lowered his head between your thighs, and the first touch of his tongue made you arch off the sand with a cry. he licked and sucked and explored with the same focused attention he brought to everything, learning what made you gasp, what made you moan his name, what made your thighs tremble around his head.
when he sealed his lips around that sensitive bundle of nerves and sucked while his fingers worked inside you, pleasure crashed over you in waves. you came with his name on your lips, your hands in his hair, your body shaking with the force of it.
he kissed his way back up your body as you came down from the high, his lips glistening with your release, and when he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his tongue.
"i want you inside me," you said when you could speak again, your hands cupping his face. "i want to feel you."
"are you sure?" his voice was strained, his cock hard and heavy against your thigh. "i don’t want to hurt you."
"you won’t hurt me," you said with certainty. "i trust you. i want this. i want you."
he nodded swiftly before positioning himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against you, and you both trembled at the contact. "tell me if it is too much," he said, his arms bracing on either side of your head.
he dipped his head down, towards the dip between your neck and collarbone, pressing soft kisses along your skin.
you nodded before leaning in, pressing your own kisses against his neck.
he pushed forward slowly with a loud groan, and the stretch was intense, almost too much, a burning pressure that made you whine. he froze immediately.
"did.. did i hurt you? should i-..”
"no," you said quickly, your legs around his hips locking him in place. "no, do not stop."
“keep going teyam.. please.”
he pushed in another inch, then another, his face contorting with pleasure, with the effort of going slow, of being gentle when you could tell he wanted to thrust deep. when he was finally fully seated inside you, you both stilled, breathing hard, adjusting to the overwhelming intimacy of being joined.
"you feel..” his voice broke. "i cannot.."
you rolled your hips experimentally, and the friction made you both moan. "move," you urged. "i need you to move."
he pulled back and thrust forward, finding a rhythm that was slow and deep. each stroke hit something inside you that made pleasure build again, different from before but just as intense. You wrapped your legs around his waist tighter. he groaned your name loudly.
"i will not last," he panted, his thrusts becoming less controlled. "you feel too good.."
"touch me," you gasped, guiding his hand between your bodies. "touch me.." you repeated breathlessly.
his fingers found your clit and circled. the combination of his cock inside you and his fingers on you was too much. you came again, harder this time, your body clenching around him as pleasure whited out your vision.
the feeling of you coming around him pushed neteyam over the edge. he thrusted deep one last time and stilled, his body shaking as he spilled inside you, your name a prayer on his lips.
for a long moment, you both just breathed, tangled together in the shallows, the bioluminescent water glowing around you like you were floating in stars. neteyam’s weight was heavy and perfect on top of you, and you could feel his heart racing against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.
"i see you," he whispered against your neck, so quietly you almost missed it. "i know i should not say it, i know it is too soon, but.."
your breath caught. "i see you too," you whispered back.
he carefully pulled out of you, and you both winced at the sensitivity. he gathered you into his arms and carried you deeper into the water, washing away the evidence of what you'd done with gentle hands. the care he took with you, the tenderness in every touch, made your chest tight with emotion.
afterward, you sat together in the shallows, his arms around you, your head on his shoulder. the night was full of stars, and the water glowed with every movement, and for a few stolen hours, you were not the olo'eyktan's daughter and toruk makto’s son.
༻༺
hii!! hope you guys enjoyed this, i’m not sure how good this is as i personally am not the biggest fan of this one but i hope it’s good enough nonetheless!!
as always, i appreciate any support towards my work and i hope you have a great rest of your day!
Why are so many fanfiction writers incapable of writing in a period setting? Why does everything have to be modern? Why can you not live without a phone, even in a fictional world?
Why did I just try to read a Frankenstein's creature x reader, and it was set in the modern day? I want to fuck that monster in a cabin in the woods in 1890. I want his scarred, patchwork face to be lit by the flames of a stone fireplace.
I believe that if you cannot write a story set in the period in which the original story is set, then maybe you shouldn't be creating fictional content related to it.
“WHERE ARE THE VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN FICS?? MUST I WRITE THEM MYSELF?” I yell into the void as I have already read the majority of what tumblr recommends me
Summary: You find the hidden letters Victor wrote in secret, each one a confession of love and unworthiness.
The storm rolled in just after dusk, swallowing the sky in shades of iron and violet. Victor had been gone since morning, having left for the nearby town in search of more supplies for his work.
You remained behind in the manor.
You missed him.
Far more than you ever admitted aloud.
The study door creaked as you pushed it open.
You intended only to tidy the stacks of journals and candle stubs scattered across his desk, to keep yourself busy.
You hoped to leave Victor a note to greet him when he returned.
Instead, you found a drawer left slightly ajar, a rare oversight for a man who guarded his research with obsessive care.
Curiosity took over.
Inside was a thick bundle of folded papers tied with a loose ribbon.
The edges were worn, some crinkled, some stained.
Your name was written on the top page.
You hesitated, fingers hovering.
You debated opening it, but then you slowly untied the ribbon.
The first letter opened with a shake of your hands.
My dearest…
I write this because I cannot say it aloud. I fear my voice will fail if I speak the truth to you.
Every moment I spend with you is agony and comfort in equal measure. I love you more deeply than I have ever loved another soul, but I cannot risk you knowing this. I have already destroyed too many things I tried to hold dear.
Your heart was hammering in your chest as you moved to the next letter.
The next letter was not a confession of love. It was a confession of fear.
Sometimes I lie awake at night and imagine you leaving. I see you walking away from the manor. I see you finding someone better, someone unbroken. The fear is strong enough to make my chest ache.
You swallowed. But you were already opening the next paper.
If only I had been born different. Less haunted. Less ruined. Perhaps then I would believe myself worthy of the way you look at me.
Your hand pressed to your mouth.
Letter after letter spilt out.
Pages filled with scribbled lines.
Regrets.
Apologies for wrongs he had never committed.
Dreams of holding your hand, your face, your future.
By the fifth page, your vision was blurred.
By the tenth, your heart ached so deeply it felt bruised.
I want to tell you I love you. I want to tell you every night until the words become a second heartbeat. But I cannot. You deserve someone stable. Someone whole. Someone who does not wake screaming from nightmares of ghosts that refuse to rest.
I wish you would see yourself as I see you. Gentle. Brilliant. The one light that has ever touched the darkest parts of me.
The last line struck you like a blow.
I love you so much it hurts. I will never give you these letters, because if you read them, I fear you will see how broken I truly am, and you will leave.
The thunder outside cracked like the sky was breaking apart.
You swallowed a sob and pressed the letters to your chest.
"Victor, how long have you been carrying this alone…?"
The front door opened downstairs.
You heard his footsteps, his voice calling your name in that soft, uncertain way he always used when announcing his return.
You stood up. Tears clung to your lashes.
"Victor," you called back, voice shaking.
He stopped. You heard it, the hesitation, the dread.
He climbed the stairs more slowly than usual.
By the time he reached the study doorway, soaked cloak clinging to his shoulders, his eyes were already fixed on the letters in your hands.
And his face drained of all colour.
"Oh God. No. No, no, please…"
"Victor," you said again, stepping toward him.
He backed away, shaking his head.
"You were not meant to see those. You were not meant to read any of it."
"Why not…?"
"Because they are everything I never wanted you to know about me."
You moved closer.
"Everything honest, you mean."
"Please, do not say that. You do not understand. You do not understand how much I have hidden. The nightmares. The guilt. The way I break inside every time I imagine you leaving. If you read those letters, then you know how weak I am. How pathetic. How unworthy."
You reached up, touching his cheek.
He froze.
"Victor, look at me."
"I cannot," he whispered. His throat bobbed painfully. "If I look at you, I will see disappointment."
Your heart cracked entirely.
"Victor, I am not disappointed."
He blinked rapidly, breath shaking.
"You must be. You saw how desperate I am. How terrified. How broken."
"Broken does not mean unlovable."
He made a quiet sound, half sob, half warning.
"Do not say that. Please do not say that unless you mean it."
"I do."
He lifted his eyes at that, wet lashes trembling.
"You do."
"I do, I love you, Victor. Not the version of you that you think you should be. The real you. The man who wrote these letters. The man who has suffered and survived and still loves with more sincerity than you realise."
"You… you love me. After everything. After reading all that. You still…"
"Yes," you stepped into him, placing his hands on your waist with gentle insistence. "I love you. Completely."
Victor made a choked sound and pulled you into his arms so tightly your breath caught. His body shook against yours, trembling with relief, fear, and overwhelming emotion.
"I thought you would leave," he whispered into your shoulder. "I was sure of it. I always am."
"I am not leaving."
He held you tighter, as though you might vanish if he let go.
"I am so tired of being afraid. Of believing that love is something that always ends in pain."
You smoothed your hand through his damp hair.
"It does not end in pain, Victor. Not this time. Not with me."
He drew back to look at you. His eyes were red, shining with tears and devotion.
"Tell me again," he whispered.
"What?"
"That you love me."
Your heart warmed.
"I love you, Victor Frankenstein."
He kissed you then, desperate yet gentle, a man trying to memorise the feeling of being wanted.
When he pulled away, his fingers traced your face.
"May I keep you? Truly, and without fear this time."
"Always," you whispered.
Victor exhaled shakily, resting his forehead against yours.
There, in the faint candlelight, with the storm raging outside, he finally breathed freely.
For the first time in his life, he believed he was loved.
And for the first time, he believed he deserved it.
