Show Me & Teach Me | Neteyam/Reader

Show Me & Teach Me

Author's Note:

Kia ora everyone! I have discovered the wonderful world of Tumblr recently & have been wading my way (very lost, mind you) through the Avatar/Neteyam fandom on there. The blogs on there are beautiful & there is a wealth of Neteyam/Reader and Neteyam/OC drabbles floating about! So many passionate fans and writers on Tumblr, and they have inspired me.

I have never written in second-person POV before, nor have I ever written a proper Neteyam/Reader piece using 'you' as the pronoun. But I wanted to challenge myself as, if done well, the second-person POV makes for a very intimate reading experience. So here is my go at it with this short drabble exploring Neteyam as your mentor, and also playing around with some mild 'age gap' fetish - I do love a slightly older man. ;)

Note - I personally don't like the usage of 'Y/N', so the reader's name in this is Seyla. The name is not used often, but there are a few points where it has been used for stylistic/emotional effect in the dialogue.

***

The dichotomy of emotion that swirled in your chest was a frustrating ache; a blight against the happiness of the occasion. Today was a happy day, and yet the unwelcome despondency you felt stubbornly insisted on battling with your elation at having finally completed your rites of passage. You had completed Iknimaya to tame your own ikran last week, and yesterday you had completed your uniltaron (dream hunt).

You were officially a woman now, born again as one of the Omatikaya, and tonight the entire clan was celebrating you and your other successful peers. Your peers who are all a few years younger than you are... The pessimistic part of your brain unhelpfully supplied.

The swallow of saliva down your throat was tight at the thought and you mentally attempted to bat away the negativity. So what if you were a late bloomer? What mattered was that you had succeeded now, and you had one person in particular to thank for that.

Neteyam...

His name breathed like a soothing balm over your fraught mind, but before your thoughts could carry you further away from the jovial festivity that surrounded you, the call of your name jolted you from your contemplation.

"Seyla! Come and join us! Tonight isn't for sitting, it's for dancing!"

Twisting your torso where you were seated to meet the mirthful eyes of another girl across the bonfire, you gave her a small grin in response and shook your head. Nope, you were not much of a dancer. You were skilled with your hands; at weaving; at beading, and at healing – especially healing -, but the rest of you was as uncoordinated as they came. This was one of the reasons it had taken you longer than most to achieve your rites.

You raised your voice to ensure it would carry over the percussion drumbeats of the music and the crackle and spit of the fire, "No thanks! You go on, Pania! I can't dance, and I'm happy being merry over here with my drink!" The vessel of bittersweet alcohol in your hand was brought to your lips once more to prove your point and though Pania pouted, she acquiesced and returned to her frolicking.

Shyness had been your constant companion your entire life. You had never liked being the centre of attention, had always been content to just blend into the background where it was safe and constant. Happy though you were tonight at your success, no amount of cajoling would to persuade you to join the mosh pit of revelry around the bonfire. You preferred your quiet contemplation, observing and finding joy in others' bliss while they enjoyed the celebration around you.

With another sip of your drink, you sighed to yourself as the liquid burned a path down your throat.

As always, your gaze wandered through the sea of swaying and jaunting bodies, seeking out the strapping frame of the man you had become familiar with recently. You had grown fond of him over the many moons you had spent under his tutelage, far too fond, you realised. It was not long before you found him, mingling amongst a group of the other mentors.