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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

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Coral Streaks – Chapter 15

Synopsis – In which she loves him, but he's utterly, painfully clueless. Awra always believed love should be easy – a beautiful gift from Eywa herself. But when she falls for the oldest Sully, it's a love filled with trial. A tale of coming apart and finding your way back.

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

Notes: Posting this from my Ao3 account, please feel free to head over there to read this story as well! I realised only after being 14 chapters in that I spelt Omatikaya wrong this entire time – my apologies in advance. But please enjoy this story nonetheless!

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

It was mid afternoon when Tsireya sought her out – jittery as she stepped into their family home. Awra had been tucked away in the farthest corner of the marui, feverishly tending to a bowl of herbs with a pestle. The sound of stone against stone had nearly drowned out Tsireya’s tentative footsteps as she crossed the marui to sidle up cautiously next to Awra.

“–ra, Awra!”

Awra paused in her mashing, head snapping up to see her sister. Tsireya looked hopeful as she sat down, gingerly taking the stone bowl away from her.

“How’d it go?” Tsireya finally asks, after a beat of silence. “With Neteyam?”

Awra groans in frustration, reaching for the bowl petulantly. “It went horribly. Now give it.”

Tsireya frowns, inching the bowl out of reach as Awra huffs. “Stop that! Tell me what happened.”

“There’s really nothing to talk about, Tsireya.” Awra replies glumly. “He couldn’t even look at me, sister. And when he did, he was livid. I could see it in his eyes – he does not wish to speak with me, or hear me out, or have anything to do with me for the matter.”

“Did you tell him about Te’lau?” Tsireya probes hopefully, large eyes blinking up at Awra.

Awra sighs. “No, I didn’t get a word in. He was…really upset with me.”

“It can’t be–”

“Really upset, Tsireya. I just–,” Awra runs a hand through her braids. “I couldn’t bring myself to tell him anything.”

“Oh sister,” Tsireya coos, scooching next to Awra. Awra sighs again, reaching to tuck herself into the nook of Tsireya’s neck.

“He hates me Tsireya. It’s like he couldn’t stand being near me for one more second.” Awra recounts, eyes hazy as she recalls the way Neteyam had flinched away from her when she’d reached for him. “When I reached for him, he dodged it as if I were trying to hurt him.”

Tsireya listens quietly, rubbing circles into Awra’s back.

“He said–said that it was best if,” she pauses on a hiccup, sucking in a breath of air. “He said that we should stop seeing each other, that he was sick of me playing games with his feelings.”

Awra’s ears flatten at the statement, and Tsireya’s heart twinges painfully.

“He told me to play games elsewhere, sister. And that whatever we had wasn’t healthy.” Her words are choppy, punctuated by sharp breaths of air. She can’t help the lingering burn of shame when she remembers the way Neteyam had sharply asked for her to stop seeking him out of convenience – the idea leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

“It wasn’t your intention, sister. He just doesn’t know that yet. He doesn’t understand.” Tsireya replies, still rubbing circles into Awra’s back.

“But it doesn’t matter now, does it. It’s not like he wants to hear me out, much less be around me.” Awra replies dejectedly, head on her sister’s shoulder. “Do you think he’d even believe me if I told him about what happened with Te’lau?”

“Of course he would, sister. Don’t be silly.” Tsireya gasps, scooping Awra away from her shoulder. Awra sits limply, legs crossed as she stares at the floor. “Neteyam is just upset. But he will come around.”

“Didn’t seem that way.”

Tsireya frowns. “Don’t say that. You can’t just give up like this. Not after–”

“Not after what? Not after I basically used him, then pretended he didn’t exist?” She doesn’t know what comes over her, she’d later chalk it up to her sorrow and uncertainty, but she can’t stop the way she snaps at her sister. Tsireya jerks back at Awra’s tone, blinking in shock.

“Sorry, sorry. I–I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She pinches her nosebridge, squeezing her eyes shut. She can feel the beginnings of a headache start to swell, a dull throb alread emanating from the front of her skull. “I don’t mean that.”

Awra hears Tsireya sigh, and she peels her hand away from her face. “Tsireya?”

Her younger sister is looking at her with sympathy all over her delicate features, but also frustration. “You can’t just let things be. I refuse to allow you to continue suffering alone, do you understand me sister?”

Awra blinks owlishly at her sister, but nods meekly. Tsireya huffs, folding her arms over her chest.

“Kiri spoke to me, and she said that Neteyam just needs some time. He’s dealing with this in his own way, sister, but that doesn’t mean you should just give up on whatever you have with him. Just because he’s pushing you away.”

At Tsireya’s pointed gaze, Awra feels her browbone raise.

“I know it’s hard, but please. Try talk to him again? Not today, but you can try tomorrow. You just have to.” Tsireya implores. “Can you do it? If you can’t do it for you, then find the strength to do it for me.”

“But–”

“You promised, sister. You promised you’d try for me.” Tsireya fixes her with a glare, a reminder of the promise Awra had made just the night prior. She’s also reminded of her promise to Kiri – to stop pushing them away.

Awra stares at Tsireya, the way her brow is set in a firm line, lips pursed as she stares straight at Awra. She can’t help but nod, even if seeking Neteyam out again is the last thing on her mind.

“Fine.” Awra replies, sighing at the ceiling of their marui.

“Good,” Tsireya mutters, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

Awra sucks in a breath, eyeing the bowl of herbs she’d been heartily mashing. “Can I have that back now?”

Tsireya looks between her sister and the bowl for a moment before shaking her head. Awra groans, rubbing over her face.

“Why not?”

“There are more important things than grinding herbs sister!” Is Tsireya’s reply. Awra just huffs.

“And what is that?”

“Kiri asked me to pass a message along. To you.” At Tsireya’s words, Awra tilts her head.

Tsireya sucks in a deep breath, before letting it go. “She told me to tell you that Neteyam likes to go to this alcove near the waterfall. It’s the one we used to go to when we were young, do you remember?”

Awra can’t help the surprise that creeps on her face. Our special place.

“Kiri said that since, y’know, you stopped talking to him, he’s been visiting that alcove for hours at a time. Alone. Usually around dusk or when he’s done with his duties for the day.” Tsireya whispers the last part like it’s a secret, and Awra narrows her eyes at her.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“So you can go look for him sister!” Tsireya exclaims, grabbing Awra’s arm. “When mother and father are asleep, go to the alcove to speak with him!

Awra bites her lip, eyes flitting to stare at the ceiling of their marui. As she lets her eyes rest on a stray piece of seagrass in the ceiling, she lets her mind wander back to the events of that night – when she’d left Neteyam at the secret alcove before walking back to the village alone. She retraces her steps, remembering the way she’d been careful to take that secluded path to avoid detection and yet, Te’lau found her.

“No,” Awra says suddenly. “I can’t go back there.”

“Why not?” Tsireya huffs. “It’s far away from the village, it’s a good spot to have conversation.”

Awra turns to look at her sister, still chewing on her lip.

“When I left that night, I took the longer walk back to the village without Neteyam, so I wouldn’t be seen.” She says tentatively, trying not to recall the way Te’lau’s menacing grin had come into view in the dim light of eclipse. “It was there when Te’lau, he–y’know.”

Realisation dawns on Tsireya’s face, and her frown deepens. Awra hates the worried look on Tsireya’s usually cherub face, and she jabs a finger into Tsireya’s cheek playfully.

“You’re going to get lines if you keep frowning like that,” she mutters.

Tsireya sighs, looking up at Awra with doe eyes. “I’m sorry. That’s another thing I didn’t know” Her reply is a hushed whisper, eyes staring guiltily at Awra’s. Awra clicks her tongue, shaking her head.

“It’s not your fault, sevin. You didn’t know.” Awra replies. Tsireya still had guilt written all over her delicate features, lips pursed. Awra lets out a quiet chuckle, smoothing over the lines next to Tsireya’s lips.

“I’ll walk you there, sister. We’ll take another way there.” Tsireya announces, voice laced with determination. “So you won’t have to be alone.”

Awra’s eyes soften at the sight of her sister, and she reaches over to pull her sister into a hug. Tsireya melts into her side, heaving a shuddery sigh into the nook of Awra’s neck.

“I know it hasn’t been easy on you either, sevin,” Awra murmurs into Tsireya’s hair. “I feel so bad that you have to see me like this.”

Awra feels a wave of sentimentality grip her heart, and she can’t stop the flood of words as they pour out of her.

“I’m supposed to be your big sister, I’m the one that’s supposed to look after you – not be the one crying into your shoulder. I’m sorry sevin, for worrying you. I hate that you have to look out for me now because of this.” She stops to suck in a breath, feeling Tsireya shake her head where she was tucked into Awra’s side.

Awra sighs, the end tapering off into chuckles. “I promise, after we get all this sorted, we’ll spend time. Just you and me. We’ll go do whatever you want, okay?”

She pulls back, and is greeted by Tsireya’s watery gaze. Despite the moisture gathering in her lashes, Tsireya has a small smile on her face as she nods.

“Okay sister. I’d like that.”

Awra smiles, pinching her sister’s cheek playfully; much to Tsireya’s chagrin. “Now c’mon. Let’s get cleaned up.”

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“What was that about?” Kiri demands, grabbing Neteyam by the elbow as he stalked towards their family marui.

Neteyam yanks his elbow free, grunting in annoyance.

“Neteyam. I’m talking to you.” Kiri huffs, darting in front of her brother. He jerks to a stop, sighing as he scratches the top of his head. Kiri frowns disapprovingly at her older brother, folding her arms over her chest as he finally looks up.

Neteyam’s browbone is pinched, face scrunched in an uncharacteristic troubled expression. “I don’t want to talk about it, Kiri.”

Rolling her eyes, Kiri doesn’t relent. “Neither do I, but clearly there’s something wrong here.” She replies snarkily, hearing her brother huff in irritation. “I saw the way Awra ran away from you. What did you say to her?”

“Nothing.” He states bluntly, tail curled behind him. “Can we go now, please?”

“No!” Kiri retorts, much to Neteyam’s chagrin. “Not until you tell me how that conversation went.”

Neteyam stares at his sister, seemingly contemplating his choices. With a final sigh, he clicks his tongue and nods. “Fine. Fine. I don’t know when you became so…naggy.”

Kiri glares at her brother, eyes narrowed as the hint of a smile tugs at his lips. It’s the first positive expression she’s seen from him in days, so she’ll take it. Neteyam jerks his head in the direction of their home, his long braids swinging over his right shoulder.

“We’ll talk at home, not here.” He starts, turning back to shoot one last glance at the sea pools; where Lo’ak, Tsireya and Tuk are still practicing their breathing exercises. “If I have to listen to Lo’ak try to flirt with Tsireya any longer I may not be alive till the next moon.”

Kiri laughs into her fist, before following Neteyam in a quick jog back to their marui.

“Where is she?”

Kiri’s ears twitch, and she looks at her brother with amusement. “Who?”

Neteyam doesn’t falter in his steps, gait steady as he trudges through the village. He doesn’t spare his sister a glance, eyes boring holes in the ground as they walk. “You know who, Kiri.”

Kiri chokes on a small laugh, which finally earns her a glare. She shrugs nonchalantly, enjoying the way Neteyam’s scowl deepens. “Don’t know, brother. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Kiri.”

“Neteyam.” She deadpans, shooting him a bored look. He sighs begrudgingly, shaking his head at Kiri’s antics. They near their family’s marui, and Jake is crouched on his haunches outside, tending to some nets. He looks up when he feels the net bounce, seeing Neteyam ploughing towards the marui with Kiri trailing behind him. Jake can see Neteyam’s distant expression, frown etched into his face. On the other hand, Kiri has a tick in her step, face light with something akin to mischief as she pulls herself into the marui after Neteyam.

“Hey kiddos, where ya been?” Jake asks, hopping up into the marui. He drops onto his haunches next to Kiri, who’s sitting next to the fireplace fiddling with a braid. She blows a piece of hair out of her eyes before shrugging.

“We were training.” Kiri answers curtly, and Neteyam lifts his head in his sister’s direction.

“Oh yeah? How’re the chief’s daughters treating ya?” Jake asks tentatively, eyes flitting over to Neteyam. Neteyam tenses, hands pausing as he helped to tidy the marui.

“They’re okay,” Neteyam grits out, clearing his throat. The training is fine.”

Jake hears Kiri snort, before Neteyam scowls at her from across the marui. Kiri just sticks her tongue out, going back to playing with her hair uninterestedly.

“Hey woah, what was that?” Jake asks, inching closer to Neteyam. “Don’t pretend like I didn’t just see you give your sister that look, boy.”

Kiri sighs, and Jake shoots her a look too. “You too, babygirl. Don’t think I’m going to let this attitude of yours go.” Kiri sighs again, deeper this time and Jake raises an eyebrow at her. The young Na’vi finally relents, letting go of the braid she’d been toying with and looking pointedly at her brother.

“He got into a fight with the chief’s daughter.” Neteyam’s face betrays his shock, and Jake almost chokes at Kiri’s sudden confession. “He made her cry during our training this morning. She ran off.”

“Awra?” Jakes parrots, staring questioningly at Neteyam. “What’d you do, boy?”

Neteyam rubs a hand over his face, tongue swiping over his bottom lip in a show of exasperation. “It’s nothing, Dad. We just had a disagreement.”

“Disagreements don’t end in tears. What did you do?” Jakes prods, before adding: “This time.”

“This time?” Neteyam splutters, as Jake raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t think I forgot when you carried her in all bloody those moons ago. You still haven’t given me an explanation about that.” Jakes says, authority bleeding into his voice. “I didn’t push you because you said you didn’t know, but clearly something is going on between you two.”

Kiri snorts again, and Jake shoots her a look.

“There’s nothing going on between us.” Neteyam mutters bitterly, refusing eye contact. Jake sees Kiri shake her head and roll her eyes, and sighs heavily.

“Don’t give me that.” He starts, shaking his head as his dreadlocks fall from where they were tucked carefully behind his ears. “She came here a couple moons ago looking for you. She asked for you specifically, before your mother and me.”

Neteyam visibly perks up, ears twitching in interest. “She came here?”

Jake nods at his son, a gentle tilt of his head. Neteyam’s browbone lifts for a split-second, surprise on his features.

“Now I ain’t gonna ask again, boy. What’s going on between you and Awra? Because this is the Olo’ eyktan’s daughter we’re talking about here.” Jake’s voice quiets into a mutter at the mention of Tonowar’s name, wary of the villagers darting to-and-fro outside their marui, within earshot.

Neteyam rubs a hand over his face, sighing through his teeth. “Fine, fine.”

Jake nods at him to continue, and Neteyam clicks his tongue. “We uh…we were kinda seeing each other. But I’m not sure. We’d meet to talk, after eclipse and we’d go for walks together.” As he says this, he spares a glance at his father’s face, watching for Jake’s reactions. Jake looks annoyed at the idea of Neteyam sneaking out at night, but saying nothing.

“We spent an evening together at this alcove, near a waterfall. I thought everything was going well, until I found her outside our marui bleeding the next day. She was scared, shaking everywhere. I tried to ask her what happened but she fainted before she could answer. Then I brought her here.”

Jake nods slowly, and Kiri slowly moves to sit closer to her brother and father.

“When she woke up, I tried to ask her again about the blood, but she ran off.” Neteyam recounts this slowly, shaking his head at the memory of Awra’s blood all over his hands and forearms. “She looked so frightened, like she was being hunted. She ran off, and I chased her into the village. And then–”

Neteyam pauses, cocking his head at the memory of the Metkayina boy they’d run into that day. He remembers the way Awra had shrunk in his presence, breath coming out in harsh pants when the boy had loomed over her.

“We ran into someone. It seemed like Awra knew who he was, but she was too scared to speak.” Neteyam’s lips turn down as he recounts the way Awra had avoided eye contact when he pressed her about the boy’s identity. “She didn’t want to tell me who it was. Then she just…ran off.”

“A boy?” Kiri says suddenly. Neteyam nods.

“Since then, she refuses to speak with me. She avoids me, like I have done something to upset her but I have not.” He mutters, tail swishing behind him. “She tried to speak with me this morning, during training in the sea pools. I let my emotions get the better of me, and I upset her.”

Neteyam clears his throat again. “That’s what happened.”

“Wait brother, did you say you ran into a boy in the village?” Kiri asks suddenly. Neteyam looks over at his sister and nods.

“Yes. A Metkayina boy.” He says, trying to recall any distinguishing features. “He seemed like he knew who Awra was. He spoke to her with familiarity.”

“What did he look like?” Kiri presses urgently.

“I–I can’t really remember–”

“Did he have long braids? With three tied together on each side of his face?” Kiri asks rapidly, brows pinched.

Neteyam frowns uneasily. “Yes, I think so. Wait, why are you asking?”

Kiri bites her lip, before remembering something. “His songcord!” She gasps, before grabbing Neteyam by the arm. “His songcord is not fastened to his loincloth right? He wears it by his ear, in his hair.” As she says this, Kiri gestures to her own left ear.

Neteyam’s frown deepens. “How do you know this?”

“Kiri, what’s going on?” Jake asks, equally confused. “What’s with the questions?”

“Oh my Eywa.” Is all she whispers, hands coming up to cup her mouth. “It’s him.”

“What do you mean? Who is he?” Neteyam asks agitated.

Kiri shakes her head, eyes wide with fear. “It’s him, it’s that boy from the Iknimaya celebrations.” She hushes out under her breath, much to Jake and Neteyam’s chagrin.

“Babygirl, if you know something–”

“Te’lau, it’s Te’lau.” She rasps, looking at Neteyam. “That boy you ran into in the village that day with Awra – it’s Te’lau.”

“Who’s–”

“Her future mate. Her parents arranged for her to mate with him so he may become Olo ‘eyktan.” Kiri recites quickly.

“What? Mate?” Neteyam questions, expression turning sour at the mention. “She never told me about any mate.”

Kiri’s mind is racing, palms becoming sweaty as she looks between her father and older brother. As the second tick by, Neteyam grows more and more uncomfortable.

“What’s going on, Kiri?” Jake demands again, brows set in a stern line. “Who is this Te’lau person?”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Neteyam grunts, bitter at the revelation of Awra’s arranged mating. “This feels like salt in my wounds, no?”

“Oh stop it.” Kiri snaps, tail coming to flick at Neteyam. Neteyam’s browbone raises, unused to such outward expressions of irritation from his usually mild-mannered sister. “This isn’t about that.”

“Then what–”

“She was assaulted, that day, by Te’lau. She was–”

“Woah, wait babygirl.” Jake interrupts, “who was assaulted?”

“Awra.” Kiri says breathlessly. “That day, when she left the alcove by herself at night.” Kiri feels Neteyam tense beside her, and spares her brother a comforting glance before pressing on.

“He was there, Te’lau. Waiting for her, and they got into a disagreement.” Kiri explains. “He assaulted her, and she’s been terrified of him ever since.”

Neteyam is silent, unmoving as Kiri’s words sink in.

Swallowing, Kiri continues; voice quieter. “She’s been trying to hide from him because she says he’s been threatening her – harassing her in the village when they meet.”

Kiri releases her grip on Neteyam’s arm, wrapping her fingers loosely around his elbow instead. “She’s been terrified of him knowing about you two, and about getting into trouble with her parents and jeapordising our uturu. That’s why she’s been avoiding us. Avoiding you.” Kiri’s voice is gentle, barely audible as she completes her sentence. But the dread that overtakes Neteyam is immense, and sinks into the depths of his guts like a rock in water.

Kiri squeezes Neteyam’s elbow comfortingly, before looking at Jake. “She was scared Olo ‘eyktan and Tsahik would revoke our uturu if they found out about her and Neteyam. That’s why she didn’t say anything to us. She was trying to protect us.”

Jake releases a sigh at the information, pinching his nosebridge. “How do you know this?”

“She told me.” Kiri breathes out, eyeing Neteyam. Her brother had gone uncharacteristically quiet beside her, tail sitting limply beside his thigh. “I had no idea either.”

“She was assaulted that night at the alcove?” Neteyam whispers, voice croaky.

Kiri shakes her head. “No, when she was walking–”

“Was she walking alone?” Kiri can see her brother’s face tensed in a mixture of guilt and regret, his voice shaky as he asks.

“Brother–”

“Tell me, Kiri.” He says, voice firm. He meets her eyes, and she can see the emotion swirling in its depths. Her brother looks afraid of her answer.

Kiri nods once, mouth set into a firm line. Neteyam’s face crumples, and he inhales sharply.

“Eywa–”

“This is not your fault, brother. Don’t blame yourself.” Kiri placates, rubbing Neteyam’s elbow softly. “You didn’t know–”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let her walk to the village by herself.” He starts, voice hoarse. “But she insisted, and I just–Eywa this is all my fault.”

“Neteyam–”

“If I’d been there, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” He mumbles, hand coming to rest over his eyes. Kiri bites her lip, looking on helplessly.

“Awra doesn’t blame you, brother. So you shouldn’t blame yourself either. It won’t help in this situation.” Kiri tries, thumb rubbing circles into her brother’s skin. Neteyam doesn’t react.

“I–I got so upset with her this morning. Eywa – I said I didn’t want to hear her out. I–” When he looks up, Kiri sees the redness in his waterline and swallows painfully. Her brother never showed much emotion around her or Lo’ak, always playing the older brother. Her heart ached in her chest at the sight of moisture gathering in his waterline.

“I need to go. I–I need to go talk to her.” He rasps out, clambering to his feet and toward the entrance of the marui. “Dad–”

“Just go, boy.” Jake replies, and he nods gratefully. Kiri just offers a small smile, and it’s all Neteyam needs before he’s sprinting towards where he knows Awra’s marui is.

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His lungs are burning, and he has to pause just short of Awra’s marui to collect himself. He bends over, hands on his knees as he sucks in a deep breath. He can see her weaving on the edge of her marui, can hear her humming to herself quietly as she crouches over the basket in her hand. His heart swells with adoration at the sight of her – lips stuck in a small pout as she fusses over the basket in her lap; trying to attach what looks like an ornately made handle to the basket. He swallows the lump in his throat, willing his legs to move as he hurries toward her.

Awra looks up abruptly at the sound of footsteps near her marui, lips parting in shock at the sight of Neteyam. He’s panting, sweat beading at his hairline as he offers a stiff smile.

“Neteyam?” She asks, eyes wide with shock. “What–”

“Can I come in?” He hushes out, out of breath. He ran here?

“Yeah, sure of course.” She shakes her head awkwardly, gesturing for him to come into her marui. He hesitates for a moment, eyes searching as he looks past her into the marui. “My parents are out. They will not be back until eclipse. It is safe to talk here.” She replies quickly.

He nods, lean arms reaching to haul himself up. She sets down her basket, the loose handle flopping onto the floor as she scooched over the make space. Neteyam sets himself down next to her, legs dangling off the lip of the marui. Awra can’t help but feel awkward, tucking her knees into her chest.

It’s painfully quiet for a few moments, nothing but the sound of their breathing and village life outside the pod. Then, Neteyam clears his throat loudly.

“Awra.” He says, just one word; her name. She turns to look at him, appreciating the way he looks against the soft glow of the midday sun. She curses the way her stomach twists at the gentle curve of his lips, the way he whispers her name like she’s precious; even if she knows she’s imagining things.

The longer she stares, her mind wanders. Why is he here? Does he want to talk? He didn’t want to this morning though. What changed? Maybe he’s here to tell me he doesn’t want to be friends anymore. That wouldn’t be so bad, all things considered. Maybe I–

“Awra.” He says more insistently. “I know about Te’lau.”

Awra’s lips part, breathing hitching. Neteyam’s eyes round even more, reaching for Awra’s hand. She pulls away, frowning.

“How did you know?” She asks.

“Kiri told me. About Te’lau, and what he did to you.” Neteyam answers, voice taking on a desperate note. “And I wanted to apologise about this morning, and tell you I want to hear you out. I’m ready to listen to you, Awra I’m so sorry–”

“Neteyam, stop.” Awra shakes her head overwhelmed. “What exactly do you know?”

Neteyam pauses, and Awra can see his throat bob as he swallows again. He’s nervous, she realises and her gaze lands on his hands. They’re on his thighs, fingers curling and uncurling as he thinks. She reaches over without thinking, grabbing his right hand and laces their fingers together. His palm is much larger than hers, and so incredibly warm. She almost whimpers at the physical contact, and the comfort it brought.

His breath hitches, looking between Awra’s face and their hands. “Awra?” He asks, and she knows the question lingering on the tip pf his tongue. Is this okay?

She nods at him, smiling shyly. He returns the smile, squeezing her hand tighter as he opens his mouth to speak.

“I know he cornered you when you were on your way back to the village.” He pauses, licking his lips. “I know he bit you.” At that, Awra freezes.

“How–”

“I saw the bite wound, Awra. At first I didn’t know what it was that I was looking at, but now that I know about what happened with Te’lau, it all makes sense.” He interrupts, eyes searching Awra’s. Awra exhales shakily, already feeling uneasy just thinking about the bite mark on her neck. At the mention of Te’lau’s name, the wound burns under her skin, and she bites her lip to stifle her whine of pain.

Sensing her discomfort, he slides closer, reaching an arm over her shoulder to tuck her into his side securely. Awra shudders, all but melting into his warmth. She can smell him too – something woodsy clinging to his skin. It makes her skin crawl pleasurably, and she can’t help the small inhale she sucks in, trying to cling to his scent for comfort.

“Is this okay?” He asks gently, gesturing to their position. Awra mumbles a ‘yes’, enjoying the feeling of his skin on hers after so many moons of tense silence.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispers, adjusting Awra so her head rested on his collarbone; hair just tickling his chin.

“I couldn’t, Neteyam,” Awra sighs. “I didn’t want your family to get in trouble with mine.”

“We wouldn’t have.” He says, almost defiantly. She huffs.

“You don’t know that. My parents expect me to mate with Te’lau, so he can be Olo’ eyktan and lead the people.” She says, sarcasm bleeding to each syllable. “Te’lau knows that. He threatened to expose us. And I just couldn’t have that. I don’t want to be the reason your family has nowhere to go”

“You should have told me. I would have protected you.” Neteyam insists, squeezing Awra’s hand. Awra stares at where their hands are connected, and grimaces.

“How, Neteyam? You couldn’t. It’s a losing battle.”

“Don’t say that.”

Awra shrugs sadly. “It’s true. This bite mark, it means he’s claimed me. I can’t do anything about it.” She trails off, aware of the hot pulsing under the scar tissue on her neck. “It hurts.”

She wants to cry, but nothing comes. Instead of the anxiety she’d become so accustomed to, the fear and disgust and shame that had made itself home in her chest cavity in the past moons; she just feels tired. She’s exhausted, a bone-deep fatigue that drags and pulls at her like the tides.

“I’m sorry, my darling.” Neteyam blurts out, hands coming to rest on Awra’s sides, turning her so they’re face to face. Awra is taken aback by the sight of redness in Neteyam’s eyes, eyes widening. “I'm so sorry Awra. My darling, Awra, I’m so sorry.”

“Neteyam–”

“Please forgive me,” he pleads, head dipping as his braids spill over his shoulders in inky rivulets. “I don’t mean what I said this morning. I had no idea what I was talking about, and I would take it all back if I could.”

“It’s okay.” Awra whispers, heart swelling with emotion. She runs her fingers through Neteyam’s braids, smiling bleakly. “It’s okay. I’m just happy you’re not mad with me anymore.”

Neteyam exhales shakily, lifting his head. There’s moisture along his lashes, and Awra’s heart breaks. “Oh Neteyam…” she whispers, thumb swiping the first tear that falls. “Don’t cry.”

He chokes out a laugh as another tear slides down his face. “I cannot not cry, my darling. I cannot help it, seeing you like this, after knowing.” Awra swipes the tear away, her own waterline burning.

“I’m fine, ‘teyam.” Her own voice is trembling as she tries to reassure the Ometicayan boy in front of her. She tightens her hold on his hand, and he squeezes back. The feeling makes warmth bloom in her cheeks despite everything, and she revels in the feeling of his hand around hers.

“Did he–did he touch you?” Neteyam croaks, eyes searching Awra’s pleadingly. “My darling.”

“No,” she answers, “he didn’t.” She shakes her head vehemently, watching as he crumples in relief.

“Thank Eywa.” He mumbles, head drooping again as he sucks in a deep breath. “Thank you Great Mother, thank you.”

Awra chuckles, but the sound is hollow. “You need to stop calling on the Great Mother at sorrowful times like this. You know she does not take sides.”

“I know,” he hushes out, “but it doesn’t hurt to give thanks anyway.” Lifting his head, Neteyam swipes at his eyes with his forearm, other hand still interlocked with Awra’s. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Awra.”

“Me too.” She whispers. “For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared, I didn’t know how to tell anyone. I was just afraid, and I pushed you away. I’m sorry.’

“No, my darling. You have nothing to apologise for.” He says, rubbing over her knuckles. “I wish I had been there to protect you. You don’t deserve this. Any of this.”

“Maybe I did, just a little.”

He frowns at that, expression hardening. “Don’t say that, Awra. Don’t ever say that.”

Awra forces out a cynical chuckle. “I mean, I’m kinda right. I shouldn’t have been sneaking around with you in the first place, but I did anyway. My parents warned me not to, and I just had to do it anyway.”

“Awra, what happened is not your fault. It would not be right for you to blame yourself for Te’lau’s actions.” Neteyam grits out, shoulders squaring. “I do not say this lightly.”

“Yeah, but–”

“No, Awra. I will not accept this any longer. Just because you choose to break a few rules, does not mean you deserve to be…assaulted like this. This is not what Eywa has intended for us.” He asserts, eyes flaring intensely. Awra feels herself captivated by his steely gaze, unblinking as he grasps at her hands firmly. “What Te’lau has done is immoral and wrong. It doesn’t matter what you say about it, the fact is that he hurt you.”

Neteyam pauses to breathe, looking over his shoulder as he catches his breath. Awra watches the sinews of muscle ripple under the skin of his chest, warmth rising to her cheeks. When he turns back, his eyes are molten, shining with barely repressed rage. “Who have you told about this?”

“Just you, Kiri and Tsireya.” Awra mutters. “Why?”

“You have to tell your parents. About what he did.” Neteyam insists.

“Neteyam, you know I can’t do that.” Awra sighs, brow bone pinching in distress.

“Why not? You are clearly the victim here, they will–”

“I’m in enough trouble with them already. If they find out, I cannot guarantee your family’s safety with us any longer. I don’t know what my father will do. I couldn’t live with myself if–”

“Why are you so afraid of telling your parents? They are Olo’ eyktan and Tsahik, you are their daughter. They will listen.” Neteyam argues, tail curled behind him.

“You don’t understand, Neteyam. It’s just not that simple.” Awra replies, frowning. “Te’lau’s union is to happen, my parents have arranged for us to mate once my Iknimaya has been completed. Breaking that union is to come clean about you, about us to not only my parents, but the clan as well. Do you understand Neteyam? It’s not that simple.”

“I understand that–”

“No you are not hearing me!” Awra gasps, exasperated. “My people struggle to accept you, and your family because you are not Metkayina. I don’t know of their reactions to us, to this that we have. It’s a risk I’m just not willing to take because I refuse to put your family’s safety at risk. That is it.”

Awra is shaking with the effort of her statement, and Neteyam growls low in his throat. The sound is almost like a deep rumble, resonating in his chest. Awra shivers at the display of dominance, the urge to bear her throat suddenly strong.

“So you would be willing to lay with the man who hurt you, then tell the truth?” His words are barely audible, but she can hear the underlying current of aggression in his voice.

“In your words, yes.” She replies, voice breathy. He growls again, and she can’t stop the whimper that escapes her. He doesn’t react to it, eyes boring holes into her face.

“I’ll kill him.” It’s a simple statement, but it’s so full of malice that it makes her blood run cold.

“What Neteyam–”

“Enough talking. I spent the entire morning talking, and I want to do something about this. Now.” He growls, standing up. Awra struggles to her feet, holding on to his bicep. His eyes flash down at her, irises almost completely gone. He looked like a wire, tightly strung as he fought to cling onto the last vestiges of his composure.

“Wait, don’t–”

“I will not allow you to suffer like this. It cannot be. If you won’t do something about it, then allow me to do it on your behalf.” He declares, tail lashing beside his thigh. “I am–”

“What’s going on here?”

Awra’s blood runs cold. Her parents stand, side by side, in the entrance of the marui. Neteyam has gone still next to her, ears flattening in shock.

“I said, what is going on here.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam #neteyam angst #neteyam sully #neteyam avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #atwow

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

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Masterlist

Latest! – Coral Streaks

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16 (Coming soon)

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 14

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

“Sister.”

Awra groans, half-asleep as she feels the tickle of fingers on her cheeks. The voice makes her ears twitch, but she’s too warm and comfortable to pay it any mind.

“Sister.” The voice is more insistent this time, and she feels a hand on her shoulder as it shakes her out of her sleep-muddled state. “Wake up!”

Awra peels her eyes open, squinting up at her sister’s face. Tsireya cracks a smile at the trail of drool smeared down the left side of Awra’s cheek, jabbing a finger into her forehead. Awra groans, batting her sister’s finger away as she rolls on her side.

“Lemme sleep.” She mutters, eyes already sliding shut again. It feels too early, and she can barely get her

eyes to open fully. She feels Tsireya poke her sides, the ticklish sensation sends her jolting involuntarily. She snaps her head over to glower at her sister – the latter doing nothing but offering an impish grin in return.

“C’mon sister, it’s dawn. We have to make it to the sea pools soon. Or did you forget who you were supposed to meet today?” Tsireya’s voice ends in a cheeky lilt, and Awra resists the urge to scowl at her younger sister again.

“Okay, I got it. I’m up, I’m up.” Awra sits up from her sleeping mat, stretching her arms over her head as she yawns. She’s sure her braids are messy – she couldn’t remember the last time she’d stopped to tidy them. Grimacing, she runs a hand through the bottoms of the braids, feeling how unruly they’d become.

“You should do something about those,” Tsireya says, eyeing Awra’s hair. “I could help!”

Awra nods, picking at a loose braid. “Yeah, you’re right. Do you think you could help me?”

Tsireya just leaps behind her sister, grabbing a small basket that is filled with hair beads and other ornaments. The hair beads tinkle as they roll around in the basket, and Awra admires the different coloured stones inside.

“I just collected some of these stones a few moons ago! They’ll look so wonderful on you.” Tsireya gushes excitedly, pulling out a handful of silver, blue and white stones from the basket. “It’s been so long since I’ve helped you braid your hair, sister.”

“Be gentle, please.” Awra chuckles, eyeing the stones as they glinted and gleamed in the morning sun. “I want to still have hair after this.”

“Don’t be silly, sister,” Tsireya laughs, already sliding her fingers through Awra’s braids to undo them. “As long as you be still, your braids will be just fine. Perfect for you-know-who.”

Awra rolls her eyes at her sister’s cheekiness. “Yeah, yeah. Remember the conversation is meant to be a serious one. I’m not meeting to flirt, you know.”

“I know!” Tsireya exclaims, nimble fingers beginning deft work on Awra’s loose hair. “It doesn’t hurt to look nice, sister. Once in a while, everyone likes something pretty to look at.”

Awra laughs, and she can hear her sister giggle in return. It feels wonderful, to bask in her sister’s presence as they bond over something as mundane as braiding, but she wouldn’t trade the warm feeling in her chest for anything else.

“I guess you’re right, sevin. Are you going to dress up for a certain someone too? I’m sure he’d love to see you in that new top you made.”

Tsireya’s responding giggle is bashful, as she threads the first hair bead through Awra’s fresh braid. “We’re talking about you. Don’t try to change the topic.”

“Oh? Such words from a youngling?” Awra retorts, but with no malice. Tsireya just chuckles, securing another braid before adding a silver bead to secure it.

“I speak nothing but the truth,” Tsireya banters. “I’m sure he’ll be dying to speak with you once he sees you.”

Awra’s heart sinks just a little. “I don’t know about that Tsireya,” she sighs. “I–I ignored him for so long, unfairly so. It would be in his rights to be upset with me, which I’m sure he is.” She can feel the dejection creep into her voice, and she feels Tsireya shift behind her.

“Nonsense sister. He likes you, that much is clear. I’m sure he’ll hear you out. Besides, one cannot expect you to open up so quickly after what Te’lau did to you.” Tsireya hesistes on Te’lau’s name, but Awra just heaves another sigh.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I just hope Kiri managed to convince him to speak with me, and I pray to Eywa he’ll hear me out.”

Tsireya loops another blue ornament through a braid, tucking it in place so the hair doesn’t unravel. The stone is beautiful, catching the light as it falls to frame Awra’s face.

“I’m sure he will, sister. You worry too much sometimes.” Tsireya remarks, smoothing out Awra’s braids with a flourish. “And even if he’s upset with you, I will be there to cheer you on. So you have nothing to be afraid of.”

“Thank you, sevin. Are my braids done?”

“Yes, you can see!” Tsireya grabs a shard of seaglass from the basket, handing it to Awra excitedly. Awra can’t help the chortle she lets out at the way her sister’s tail thumps eagerly against the floor. Holding up the mirror, she admires her braids with a gasp.

“They’re beautiful, sevin. Thank you so much.” She breaths in wonder, eyes tracing over the fresh locks of braids secured with the shimmering stones. “You’re truly a blessing from Eywa herself.”

Tsireya giggles shyly, taking the shard of seaglass from Awra. “Of course! Anything for you!” As she returns the makeshift mirror to its place, Tsireya turns back to Awra. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”

The last part of her sentence is hushed out, nearly a whisper. Awra’s heart aches at the worry etched into her sister’s brilliant features, lines carved into her supple skin. She hushes out a chuckle, jabbing a finger into the creases on Tsireya’s browbone.

“Hey, don’t worry. I told you, I’m fine remember? I promised you I’d tell you what was going on, so stop worrying already alright?” Awra nags, smoothing out the lines on Tsireya’s face.

Tsireya just nods, exhaling. “Okay, okay. We’ll have the day together anyway, because Mother and Father are away today organsing more festivities for Iknimaya. You don’t have to worry about them today.”

Awra nods thoughtfully, mind wandering to Te’lau’s face that day on the netted pier. He’d looked so smug, so full of himself – it had sent chills down her spine. She wouldn’t have to worry about him either, thankfully, as he would be busy enjoying the festivities that her parents were so gladly throwing. After every Iknimaya comes time for the new warriors to receive their ceremonial tattoos – a crucial milestone in becoming an adult within The People. According to her father, the process was long and arduous, and many Metkayina warriors lose consciousness during the process. Deep down, Awra secretly hoped Te’lau’s tribe tattoos would be excruciating. Maybe I’m a little mean afterall.

“Do you know what you’re going to say to him?” Tsireya asks.

“Most of it, I guess the hard part will be convincing him to listen to me in the first place,” Awra admits woefully. She could feel the nervousness in her stomach flutter uncomfortably, picking at her fingers.

“Stop that.” Tsireya chides, pulling Awra’s hands apart. “You’ll be fine. Besides, Kiri and I will be there to support you. I believe that it will go smoothly.”

Awra nods, face tense as she swallows the lump in her throat. Let’s hope to Eywa it does.

“C’mon sister,” Tsireya urges, tugging Awra up to her feet. “We’ve gotta go, we’re running late.”

Awra gets up, slipping into a new top before grabbing her shoulder sling and securing it around her chest. With a firm grasp of Tsireya’s hand, she lets her sister lead her to the sea pools.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s going on?” Neteyam demands perplexed, browbone furrowed as Kiri pull him and Lo’ak to the sea pools. Tuk traipses beside Kiri, stopping to play with the different flora and fauna. “What kind of training is this?”

Kiri rolls her eyes, sighing in exasperation. “You’ll see. Tsireya and Awra just asked us to meet them there. Now stop sighing.”

“C’mon bro, don’t be like that. I’m sure it’s going to be fun.” Comes Lo’ak’s chipper response. Neteyam just sighs again.

“Yeah! It’ll be fun! I love the sea pools!” Chirps Tuk, trotting alongside her older siblings.

“You’re just excited to spend time with Tsireya,” Kiri retorts. Lo’ak narrows his eyes at his sister, and Kiri just sticks her tongue out in return. Tuk giggles beside them, and Lo’ak shoots her a glare.

“I just don’t understand–”

“You’ll get it when we get there. Now quit whining.” Kiri huffs, lugging both her brothers as the sea pools come into view. She spots the Metkayina sisters waiting in a sea pool nearer to the edges of the reef, and wades in, Neteyam and Lo’ak in tow.

“C’mon you guys!” Tuk whines, darting ahead of her siblings. Kiri smiles, pulling her brothers by the wrists as Lo’ak complains.

As they near the sea pools, Awra feels her throat dry up. Neteyam looks sour, his expression pinched as he trudges towards her and Tsireya. Even from a distance, she can tell he’s irritated by the way he refuses to look up even as Kiri tugs on his arm. Lo’ak bounds over, calling out a hey in Tsireya’s direction. Her sister giggles, and offers a shy wave in return.

“Awra! Tsireya!” Tuk exclaims, barreling towards the Metkayina girls in excitement. Awra huffs when Tuk collides headfirst into her midsection, feeling the breath get knocked out of her. She ruffles Tuk’s braids, chuffing out a happy laugh.

“Hi Tuktuk.” Awra murmurs happily, smiling at the younger girl as she leaves Awra’s embrace to offer a hug to Tsireya as well.

“Awra.” Kiri breathes out, tugging the Metkayina girl into a hug. Awra returns it, eyes darting up to glance at the oldest Sully sibling. Neteyam is avoiding eye contact, eyes disinterested as he faces away from Awra. Kiri pulls away, and turns to her older brother with an eyeroll.

“Neteyam.” Kiri utters, yanking her brother closer. Neteyam winces as he stumbles closer, sighing but still refusing to make eye contact with Awra. Awra sags a little, shooting Kiri a grimace. “Neteyam.”

“Morning Tsireya.” He finally greets, voice taut. There’s a pause, before he squeezes out: “Awra.”

“Morning, Neteyam.” Awra hushes out, wincing at how breathless she sounds. Off to a great start aren’t we.

There’s a pregnant pause in the conversation, everyone blinking as the tension grows wire thin. Lo’ak finally clears his throat, and Awra sends Eywa a silent thank you.

“So um, what’re we doing today cuz’?”

“Well, I thought today we could practice our breathing together.” Tsireya continues, glancing nervously at Kiri then at Awra.

“We came out here to breathe?” Neteyam’s remark is quick, and Awra swallows uneasily.

Tsireya eyes widen at Neteyam’s snipped remark, looking at Kiri for help. Kiri just narrows her eyes at her older brother, ignoring the way Tuk yanks on her arm.

“Yes, brother. Tsireya and Awra,” Kiri makes it a point to look at Awra before swivelling and turning back to Neteyam, “thought it’d be good we find a quiet place to focus on our breathing.”

“Yes! There are no distractions here.” Tsireya adds quickly, dissolving into awkward chuckles. Neteyam just nods, expression stoic as they all settle into the water.

The sea pool is shallow, and comes up to their stomachs when seated. Just as Neteyam lowers himself into the shallow water, Kiri grabs his shoulder.

“I was thinking,” she starts, a little too enthusiastically. Neteyam frowns. “I was thinking we should split into pairs. Tsireya was saying it might help in our focus.”

“Kiri’s right!” Tsireya chirps, face turning the faintest shade of purple. “It would be best for us to maintain our focus. If you learn to hold your breaths longer, it would help when you are riding your ilu.”

Awra can’t help the amused smile on her face at Kiri and Tsireya’s coordinated efforts, but she can’t help but wince at Neteyam’s darkening expression. He considers his sister’s words for a moment, before sighing resolutely.

“Okay, okay.” He grumbles, voice deep. “How do we pair up.”

“I’ll go with Tuk,” Kiri exclaims, pulling Tuk to stand beside her. “And Tsireya will go with Lo’ak. Which leaves you and Awra.”

“Wait–” Neteyam cuts in, tail swishing.

“We’ll take different sea pools each so we don’t disturb each other. See you guys!” Kiri hushes out, before grabbing Tuk’s arm and leading her away from the sea pool. Tuk is whining, pouting as she lets Kiri lead her to another sea pool.

“Sorry Tuktuk! I’ll see you later!” Awra calls out, waving at Tuk. Tuk just pouts, but waves goodbye to Awra anyway. Kiri shushes her, shooting Awra a look that said all the best.

Tsireya’s eyes widen as well, hurriedly grabbing Lo’ak and pulling him out of the sea pool as he splutters.

“Wait where are we going?” Lo’ak protests, tripping as Tsireya pulls him towards a sea pool on the far end of the cluster.

“That sea pool there.” Tsireya just murmurs, tail wading side to side in the shallow water. As she and Lo’ak scale the side of the sea pool, she turns to send Awra an encouraging smile. Awra returns it, already feeling the tension in the air increase as she turns back to Neteyam.

He’s standing cross-armed, in the sea pool, eyes fixed on the sparkling cerulean waters below them. His tail is flicking sharply side to side, and his ears are flat against his head. He doesn’t look up to acknowledge her, and Awra has to breathe deeply to will the nerves in her stomach to dissipate.

“So uh–”

“Let’s just get this done.” Neteyam interrupts, dropping into the water. Awra’s heart plummets, but she says nothing; settling herself into the water next to him. He closes his eyes, placing his hands flat on his thighs as he takes deep breaths.

“O–okay. Let’s just start with some deep breaths and hold first?” Awra tries, voice tentative. Neteyam just grunts, sucking in a long breath.

Awra shuts her own eyes, breathing out a shaky exhale. She sucks in a breath too, holding it before releasing it. She hears Neteyam doing the same, and they sit in silence – just the sounds of their breathing between them.

“On the next breath–”

“Stop it.” Awra’s eyes snap open at Neteyam’s voice, and she turns to him – only to find him already staring at her. There’s anger swirling in his eyes, along with another emotion she can’t quite tell. His voice is gruff, barely concealed irritation laced into every syllable.

“What?” Awra whispers, shrinking in on herself. “I–I don’t–”

“I don’t understand how you can sit here and pretend everything is fine.” He grits out, chest heaving. His stare is intense, and makes Awra’s chest tighten with remorse. “How you can sit here and–”

He pauses, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Awra swallows, tail taut behind her.

“How do you sit here and act like everything is normal when you just spent a dozen eclipses ignoring my existence.” He forces out, still staring at Awra unblinking. “You don’t get to do that to me, Awra. Not after what we’ve been through together.”

“I–”

“I don’t understand you Awra. What do you expect of me?” He mutters, tearing his eyes away. “You cannot seek me out when it is convenient, and then ignore me as you see fit.”

Awra is stuck, a lump in her throat as she watches Neteyam place a hand over his heart.

“You cannot do this to me. I am not one to play games with, Awra,” he says softly. “If it is games you seek, then please, find them elsewhere.”

His voice tapers off into a whisper, and Awra feels her heart ache at the way Neteyam sounds so small. She can’t help but think about their first night sneaking out together – the way he’d sounded so confident when he regaled his tales of Iknimaya back in the forest as she laughed into her fist. He seemed so far from that now, and she was all to blame.

“Neteyam,” she hushes out, voice shaky. He looks up at her, sadness swirling in his amber depths. She reaches for him, but he pulls away. She tries to ignore the way her heart cracks at his gesture, clasping her hands together in her lap instead. “I’m–I–”

He shakes his head, braids spilling over his shoulder. Awra feels her throat close up, cursing herself for stuttering.

“Neteyam, I’m sorry.” She forces out, voice cracking. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m tired, Awra,” he admits, voice a murmur. “I’m tired of this push and pull.”

“No, Neteyam please–” Awra tries, already feeling shameful tears prick her waterline. She sniffles desperately, trying to find the right words as Neteyam flinches away.

“No Awra,” he grits out. “I’m tired of this push and pull we always seem to do. I’m sick of the way you court me, only to speak coldly to me once a moon has passed. I hate the way I’m always left second guessing what we are, and what this is.”

Awra can feel the guilt eat her alive, swallowing what was left of her heart as she stares brokenly at Neteyam. His chest is heaving, hands clenched into fists where they lie on his thighs.

“Neteyam I can explain, please. If you just–”

“Not right now.” He cuts Awra off, and Awra can’t stop the first tear from sliding down her cheek. “I just can’t right now Awra.”

With that, he stands up, water dripping as his tail swishes in agitation behind him. Awra struggles to her feet, reaching for him as he staggers away.

“Neteyam.” Awra pleads, voice watery as he turns away. He sighs, the sound deep and ragged as he meets her stare.

For a fraction of a second, Awra sees the way his eyes soften at the sight of her tears, before they harden once more. He puts one four-fingered hand up, shaking his head as Awra stifles a sob.

“I can’t do this Awra. Do you understand?” He admits, avoiding her gaze. “I think it’s best if we just stayed away from each other. At least until you figure out what exactly it is you want.”

“No, Neteyam. I can explain, please just hear me out.” Awra hates the way she’s shaking like a leaf, tears clouding her vision as she stands forlornly in front of Neteyam. The oldest Sully just sighs again, taking a step back. Eywa, she should be stronger than this. But she can’t seem to put up a strong front around Neteyam.

“I know, I just don’t want to hear it right now. Okay?” He says, browbone pinching. Awra stops at that, his words sinking in.

“What?” She whispers, eyes boring into his.

His tongue darts out, licking over his lip as he contemplates his next words. “I meant what I said, Awra. Maybe you should stop seeking me out. It would be the best plan moving forward. I do not wish for us to have quarrels like this if my family is to stay here.”

Awra whimpers, and his ears twitch at the sound. Neteyam shuts his eyes, exhaling through his nose.

“I like you Awra, I do. But this,” he gestures between their bodies, “this is not healthy.” He opens his eyes, the flecks of gold in his irises reflecting the glint of the sun. Despite the cool draft over the sea pools, she feels like she’s suffocating, a wound in her chest like someone had carved her heart out with a dagger.

He shoots her one last look, filled with hurt and longing, before he turns and trudges out of the sea pool towards Kiri and Tuk. Awra sinks to her knees in the water, heart thrashing wildly in her ribcage as she struggled to suck in her next breath.

She can hear Kiri’s voice travel over the sea pools, a confused lilt to her sentence as Neteyam wades into the pool with her and Tuk. Guilt burns raw in her chest, and she clasps a hand over her mouth as another whimper forces its way out of her throat.

You don’t deserve to be upset.

It’s not long before she hears Tuk’s voice too, loud as she questions why Neteyam has left Awra alone in the sea pool. She hears the sound of Neteyam voice, warm and placating as he talks to his sisters. It’s in sharp contrast to the way he’d sounded just moments ago – all warmth drained from his voice. Instead, it was laced with grief – bitter and sharp as it coated his words like an acid. It burned into Awra’s mind, replaying even as she tried desperately to get her emotions under control.

“Eywa,” she shudders to no one, breath coming out in tremors. She turns her face up to the sky, sucking in a breath as she forces her heart to still.

She’s interrupted by the sound of Tuk’s laughter, and she turns; squinting in the sun. In the distance, she sees Tuk swaddled in Neteyam’s arms – laughing as he swings her around in the sea pool. He’s smiling, the corners of his mouth creasing as his eyes lit up. Her heart twinged at the sight of his carefree expression, small chuckles drifting over with the wind as Tuk splashes at him.

Her eyes wander over to Kiri, who meets her gaze from afar. The Ometicayan girl can tell immediately that something is wrong, and her eyebrows dip in worry as Awra forces a stiff smile. Neteyam catches a glimpse of Awra and for a moment, he just stares at Awra; throat bobbing. But the moment passes as quickly as it came, and he goes back to playing with Tuk.

Kiri is already wading over to Awra’s sea pool, distress clouding her delicate features. Awra hurriedly swipes at her eyes, clambering out of her sea pool and making toward the village. The last thing she wanted was to recount her horrible conversation with Neteyam – she couldn’t stomach the look of pity that would surely be on Kiri’s face. She sprints towards home, ignoring Kiri’s calls of her name. She just wanted to be alone with her thoughts right now.

Her lungs burned with exertion as she finally came to a stop near her marui, and she choked out a sob before crumbling to her knees. Shaking, she pulls herself into her marui, collapsing beside the fireplace as she covers her mouth with her hand again – muffling the sounds of her anguish.

You deserve it.

Awra gasps for air, tears wet across her cheeks. I deserve it. Her back hurt from the way she’s crouched on the floor, tail coiled around her ankle as she sobs into the crook of her arm.

She lifts herself off the floor, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. I’m an idiot, she thinks, idiot. When the tears stop, she pulls her knees to her chest, resting her cheek on them. She gazes listlessly at the fireplace, devoid of embers, just a heap of ash and char.

If you had let him in sooner, maybe he’d still be here.

She felt the first tendrils of self-loathing emerge like a wisp of dark smoke, wrapping around the fragments of her heart.

You pushed him away first.

Awra squeezes her eyes shut, breath quickening.

It’s your fault, really. Te’lau was right, wasn’t he?

She whimpers, squeezing into herself. Te’lau’s words come rushing back, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand. She could almost feel him whisper it in her ear. Who’s going to save you now, Awra?

#neteyam x reader #neteyam angst #neteyam avatar #neteyam sully #neteyam imagine #atwow #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #avatar

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 13

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

“So?” Is all Kiri says when she slides onto the smooth flat rock Awra is seated on. It’s the rock she and Neteyam had shared all those eclipses ago, when they had exchanged playful jabs and of course, their first kiss. The memory brings a warmth to her chest despite the sting of the night breeze, and she lets out a ragged sigh before finally turning to face Kiri.

“I’m sorry Kiri.” Awra murmurs, voice filled with contrition. “I really am.”

“I know, and I already told you it’s okay. So what’s up? What did you want to tell me that you couldn’t say in front of Tuk?” Kiri asks, hands grasping a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. The shawl is beautifully beaded with Ometicayan thread patterns, and Awra knows it was made with Neytiri’s help without doubt. The weaving pattern is unlike anything the Metkayina use when making clothing.

Kiri notices Awra’s stare. “My mom helped me make this. Or rather, she made it while I just helped to look for these stones.” Kiri’s voice is light and airy, the telltale sign of a giggle bubbling up. Awra can’t help but smile fondly, fingers grazing the delicate handiwork as she sighs.

At Kiri’s mention of Neytiri, Awra is reminded of her interaction with the Sully mother earlier that day. She fiddles absentmindedly with one of the stones on Kiri’s shawl – a smooth, turquoise stone that shines even in the dimness of eclipse. “Stop that!” Kiri grumbles, batting her hand away playfully. Awra chuckles, bringing her knees to her chest instead, and resting her elbows on her knees.

“Mother told me you dropped by this morning.” Comes Kiri’s questioning whisper, the Ometicayan turning to look at her.

“Yeah,” Awra chuckles emptily, “I did.”

Kiri looks on quizzically. “And for what?”

Awra laughs sheepishly. “Well, I came looking for you and Tuk. I wanted to apologise.” She replies, opting to pick at the skin on her fingers instead – a nervous tick. “But your mom, she…she wasn’t happy to see me. To say the least.” Insecurity bubbles in her gut, ugly and dark at the memory of Neytiri’s hateful glances.

“What did she say?” Kiri asks quietly, carefully watching Awra’s face. Awra shrugs, still playing with her fingers. “Well?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Awra replies, voice laced with defeat. She straightens her legs, letting her toes dip into the warm sand. “She has every right to be upset at me, after what I did. I don’t blame her. I know she doesn’t mean it.”

Kiri doesn’t argue. “Have you spoken to Neteyam then?”

Awra shakes her head. “I–I can’t.” She looks up at Kiri at that, seeing the Ometicayan girl frown. Awra bites her lip, already feeling the first dredges of shame burn its way up her throat and onto her face. “I–it’s complicated.” Is all she manages, grimacing at the cliche of it all.

“Awra.”

“I swear I’m not trying to make things difficult on purpose, Kiri. I just–”

“What is it then?” Kiri’s eyebrows raise, hand coming to rest on Awra’s thigh. “You did say not to push me away anymore.”

Awra grimaces, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah I did.” Kiri offers a supportive smile, the corners of her mouth crinkling.

Sucking in a deep breath, Awra wills the churning in her gut to cease. She peers at Kiri, taking in the Ometicayan’s windswept hair and troubled expression, and whispers a prayer to Eywa for courage. “There’s more that happened, that night. With Te’lau.”

“More?”

“Yeah,” Awra clears her throat, browbone creased. “He didn’t just call me names.”

Kiri’s eyebrows pinch even more. “What did he do?”

“When he smelt Neteyam on me, he…he held me down, on the ground. And then he–”, she sucks in a sharp breath, feeling shameful tears burn at her waterline. Keep it together. “He bit me. Here.”

She tugs away the necklace she was wearing, the intricate weaving patterns concealing Te’lau’s bite wound. Awra watches as Kiri’s eyes widen in horror, hand covering her mouth as she sees it. The bite mark is healing, but it’s one born of violence – evident in the way the skin has scarred, raised and curled as it sat on Awra’s skin. But clear as day, Kiri can see four puncture wounds – the scar tissue still a deep, inflamed pink as Awra’s body struggles to heal.

“Awra–” Kiri whispers, voice shaky as she watches the Metkayina snap her necklace back into place around her neck. “He bit you?” Kiri sounds terrified. Awra’s heart sinks at the sound – in the many eclipses she’d known the Ometicayan girl, Kiri had always been free-spirited and sarcastic. She’d heard the Ometicayan banter with her brothers, exchanging playful jabs with Tuk, but never afraid. If Awra thought about it, what did Kiri have to be afraid of? Lo’ak and Neteyam were always close-by, keeping an eye out for her. If only he’d been there that night. Maybe this would never have happened. No Awra. This is not his fault. It’s yours. It’s yours.

Awra nods. “He held me down, said he’d tell everyone about how I let–let Neteyam put h–his hands on me. He called me a whore, said he’d tell e–everyone about me and Neteyam if I said anything.” She fights at the sob tearing its way out of her chest, brushing away a tear that leaks down her cheek stubbornly. “Then he bit me.” Her voice breaks at the admission, croaking as she desperately attempts to blink away the tears.

Kiri makes an aguished sound, surging forward to pull Awra into a hug. Awra leans into the touch, resting her head on Kiri’s shoulder. She doesn’t feel like sobbing, but the tears still come; rolling down her cheeks. “It hurts, Kiri. It still hurts now. It hurts so bad.”

“Oh Eywa, Awra–”

“It hurts when he’s near me. When he talks to me, it burns. It hurts the worst when he comes close, when he tells me I’ll always bel–belong to him. It aches, like coals under my skin.” Awra shudders, body curling into Kiri’s for comfort. “It’s like a reminder that I’ll never be rid of him. And I just–”

Awra lets the first sob free. It rips violently out of her chest, squeezing at her lungs as she gasps for breaths between each heave. She presses her face into Kiri’s shoulder even harder, trying to stifle the sounds of her fear, of her sorrow and her helplessness.

“I don’t know what to do.” Her voice is small, a representation of how she feels inside. Kiri’s hold on her tightens, and she lets out a shuddery exhale.

“Oh Eywa, Awra. Please, please, please tell me you told someone. Anyone.”

Awra shakes her head, face tucked in the crook of Kiri’s neck. Kiri whimpers at that, and Awra feels a sense of loathing for herself in her gut. Would anyone have listened, even if I’s said something? Would they have believed me over him?

“I’m so sorry, Awra.” Kiri hushes, traces of tears in her delicate eyelashes. She blinks them away as she leans away from Awra, hands firmly placed on Awra’s shoulders. “I’m so so sorry I didn’t–I didn’t–”

“How would you have known, silly girl? I was busy ignoring you remember? Being stupid?” Awra teases, voice still watery with tears.

Kiri’s eyes well with that, and she shakes her head violently. Her braids whip around, grazing the tops of shoulders. “No, I was wrong about that. Eywa, I should have seen the signs. I should have asked you instead of being petty. I should have–”

“Stop that, it’s okay.” Awra interrupts, a gentle smile on her face. Despite it all, she couldn’t find it in herself to be upset at the older Sully girl. She’d made it a point to avoid everyone in hopes Te’lau would leave her be, but as soon as she noticed it wasn’t going to work, she had already pushed everyone away. “I–I couldn’t tell you either, even if you had asked, Kiri. He would have been watching me, from somewhere. And if he found out you knew, he’d–”

Awra can’t help the shudder that follows, hand resting over the bite mark. Kiri blinks in distress at the action, reaching a five-fingered hand over to tug it away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Kiri whispers, the sound almost like a plea. “I’m sorry you were alone.”

Kiri rubs over Awra’s knuckles soothingly, thumb smooth and free of callouses. “It’s okay. I–I tried to hide, the first few days after. I’d stay at home and cook, weave or try to be helpful anyway I could. Anything to keep my mind off it.” Awra gestures to the bite mark solemnly, other hand still tangled with Kiri’s. “But every night, I’d lie awake as my parents slept, and I’d feel the bite mark burning into my neck. I’d wish for the courage to tell someone, anyone, but I just couldn’t do it.” Awra can’t help but despise the way she sounded so pathetic. Afterall, she was suffering the consequences of her own actions, wasn’t she? She deserved it.

She feels a tear roll down her cheek. “So I’d just hide at home, or come here. I’d hide, like a coward. Because he’s right, Kiri. Everything Te’lau said about me – he’s right.” The self loathing and disgust crescendos violently, and the words spill forth before she can stop them.

“He’s right. I’m–I’m a whore. And I’m in this mess because I don’t listen, and I’m selfish. I let myself get swept away in something I know I can never have because I’m too afraid of admitting I’m not strong enough to be Tsahik. That I’m not good enough. Not for my parents, not for my people and not for Neteyam.”

“That’s not true, Awra. Don’t–”

“Yes it is, Kiri. I’m here because I’m selfish, and I couldn’t just keep my head down and play Tsakarem like I’m supposed to. And now I’m–”

At her last words, her voice breaks. She doesn’t realise she’s trembling until she notices Kiri’s interlaced their fingers together. She sucks in a deep breath before exhaling slowly, trying to slow her rapidly beating heart.

“I’m his now. He’s claimed me, Kiri. This bite mark, it means–it means I’ll always be tied to him.” She’d always known what Te’lau’s bite mark meant to their union, but saying it out loud felt like it had become reality. It opens up a gaping pit of dread in her core, and all she can feel is her heart sinking deeper and deeper into the endless chasm.

For a few moments, all Awra can hear is the sound of her own breathing. Kiri has her eyes shut, like she’s thinking. Eventually, she opens her eyes, and lifts Awra’s chin up.

“We need to tell someone.” Kiri’s voice is firm, unwavering despite the tear tracks on her cobalt skin. Awra shakes her head.

“Can’t.”

“We have to. Please Awra. You–”

Awra shakes her head again, freeing herself from Kiri’s grasp. “Can’t, Kiri. Te’lau he’ll–”

“We’ll tell Neteyam. He’ll know what to do.” Kiri answers, voice laced with urgency. “Come, come. He’ll know what to do. He always knows.” Kiri loops a hand around Awra’s waist, pulling the Metkayina to her feet. Awra resists heavily, panic lacing her expression at the idea of telling Neteyam about Te’lau.

“No, Kiri, I can’t. This–it’ll get him in so much trouble if we get found out. No, just no.” Awra argues, twisting herself out of Kiri’s hold.

“Awra please. I can’t let you do this by yourself.” Kiri pleads, face twisted into a grimace. The Ometicayan looks helpless, both arms wrapped around Awra’s like a vice. “Please Awra.”

Awra felt torn. She wanted to tell Neteyam, Eywa did she want to talk to him. But it wouldn’t have been right to come to him, like this, grieving; after giving him the cold shoulder for weeks. She felt torn, chewing at her bottom lip as her gaze flickered between Kiri’s face and the ground. Her heart gave a hopeful swell at the thought of finally finally getting to talk to Neteyam, but the sinking feeling in her heart reminded her of all that was at stake.

“Awra, c’mon.” Kiri sounds desperate, voice quiet as she gently tugs Awra off the rock. “Come, come.”

“Okay, okay,” Awra finally replies, “but we have to be quiet about this. Really quiet.” Awra wipes the stubborn tear tracks away, shoulders rising and falling on her next big inhale. “I’ll talk to Neteyam, but we’ll have to do it somewhere away from the village, somewhere Te’lau can’t find us. Find me.”

Kiri nods. Awra sighs, shooting the Ometicayan a weary look.

“I mean, this is if Neteyam wishes to speak with me. After everything I’ve put you guys through these past few moons.” Awra can’t help the way she sags at the admission, defeat settling into her bones as she eyes the ocean in front of her. “I wouldn’t speak with me if I were him.”

“I’ll set you guys up. I’ll tell him to meet me near the seapools tomorrow, first thing at dawn.” Kiri devises, helping Awra to her feet. Awra clambers off the rock not-so-gracefully, hand tucked in Kiri’s. “You’ll wait for him at the seapools, and then you can tell him all about it there. Okay?”

Awra makes an uneasy sound. “Wouldn’t it be too risky though? The seapools are kinda out in the open, and I just–”

“I’ll get Lo’a and Tuk to come along too, you can bring Tsireya. Tell her we’re going to train at the seapools instead. That way, it’ll make sense for you and Neteyam to be there together.” Kiri answers, hand coming to readjust her shawl. “If anyone sees us, we can just tell them you were helping us train.”

It sounded like a plan. Awra nodded, humming an affirmative under her breath. With the other Ometicayans around, she’d be able to spend time with Neteyam without arising suspicion. Besides, with other Na’vi present, Te’lau was unlikely to corner her.

Kiri’s face lights up, and she smiles warmly at Awra. “Don’t worry, Awra. You’ll be okay. We’ll make sure of it.” As she says this, Kiri squeezes Awra’s hand in hers, five fingers around four. Awra chuckles, nodding along with the Ometicayan.

As she follows Kiri back to the village, she feels a bubble of hesitation in her gut. What am I going to say to Neteyam tomorrow? What should I say? She bites her lip again, soothing over the bite marks with her tongue. Would he still be upset with her? Definitely. She just hoped to Eywa that she would be able to find the words to express her apologies when faced with the oldest Sully sibling.

“Don’t worry.” Kiri chides, a knowing smile on her face. “He misses you as much as you do.”

Awra huffs. “Yeah, sure didn’t seem like it that day he walked past me without saying hi.”

Kiri rolls her eyes. “First of all, you ignored us first. Of course you hurt his feelings.” Kiri’s chiding tone makes Awra’s ears flatten against the sides of her head, and she twirls a braid in her fingers as she avoids Kiri’s gaze.

“I know.”

“Don’t pout. You know I’m right.” Kiri retorts, giggles filling the air as her eyes squeeze into crescents. Awra pouts harder, wrinkling her nose at the Ometicayan.

“I’m just worried he won’t want to talk to me, Kiri. He seemed so upset. I guess I’m just worried I’ve ruined everything.” The little flicker of self-doubt curls in her belly again, fueled by the anxiety of meeting with Neteyam the next day.

“Like I said Awra, he misses you too. He just–needs a little time to process what he’s feeling, that’s all.” Kiri says, voice reassuring. “Whatever you have to say to him, just say it from your heart. I’m confident my brother will hear you out.”

“Yeah, okay.” Awra lets out a sigh as the village nears, the gentle glow of torches illuminating their path back to the maruis. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning then?”

“See you. Don’t forget to be brave.” Comes Kiri’s reply, before she walks briskly back to the Sully marui. Awra waves, wrapping her arms around herself as she lumbers towards her family’s marui. The chill is picking up, and she shivers as she hauls herself back into her family home. Inside, she’s greeted by the sight of her sister hunched over a basket by the fireplace. It’s warm inside the marui, and she rubs her hands together to dispel the remaining dredges of cold from her fingertips.

“Tsireya?”

Tsireya jumps up, large eyes widening in surprise. “Sister! You’re home finally. I’ve been trying to weave this pattern for so long but I can’t seem to figure it out.”

Awra laughs, striding over to her sister. She takes a cursory glance at the basket in her sister’s hands, finding that the notches had been done incorrectly. “That’s because you missed a notch silly. Here, hand it over.”

Tsireya passes the basket to Awra, a pout on her full lips as she slinks up next to her sister. Awra lets Tsireya burrow into her side, laughing quietly at the way her sister’s large eyes trace her fingers as they expertly weave and fold the tendrils of seagrass into place. She weaves in silence, nothing but the occasional crackle of the fire to be heard.

“How are you sister?” Comes Tsireya’s voice, barely above a whisper. Awra’s hands pause in their weaving, and she turns to face her younger sister in confusion.

“What?”

“I asked you how you were, silly.” Tsireya’s voice lilts at the end of the sentence, trailing off into a small giggle. Awra chuckles too, setting down the half-woven basket to pull her sister into her arms.

“I’m fine, sister. Why do you ask?”

Tsireya hums, curling her fingers around Awra’s wrist lightly. “You’ve been distant and quiet, and you…you seem sad.”

Awra huffs out a breath. “Quiet and distant huh? You sound just like sempu.” Tsireya swats at her for that, to which Awra sticks her tongue out playfully. “It’s true and you know it.”

Tsireya frowns, clambering out of her sister’s hold to sit on her haunches; legs folded demurely underneath her. Awra cocks her head, watching her sister’s long hair spill down her shoulders in rivulets. “I’m not joking, Awra. I’m really worried about you.”

“I’m fine, I promise Tsireya. I’m just dealing with some stuff now, but I promise it’s all going to be settled.”

Tsireya looks at her with barely concealed irritation, huffing as she folds her arms across her chest. “I’m not little anymore, sister. You know you can tell me if you fought with Neteyam. I don’t need to hear excuses.”

Awra winces at that, a guilty smile on her face as she reaches for her sister again. Tsireya pouts again, letting her sister pull her into a hug. “I know, sevin. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. I’m not exactly fighting with Neteyam, but there’s been other things weighing on my mind.”

“What things?” Tsireya looks up curiously, and Awra avoids her gaze.

“I–I can’t really talk about it right now, sevin.” Tsireya’s face falls, but Awra is quick to comfort her. “But I promise, once I speak with Neteyam tomorrow at dawn, I will tell you the truth. Okay?”

Tsireya nods, but tilts her head in confusion. “Tomorrow? But Kiri asked me to help–oh!”

“Yes, it’s just a cover so I can talk to Neteyam without y’know?” Awra jabs her head towards the tak’hu, where their parents were that night hosting a celebratory feast for the new warriors. Tsireya nods knowingly, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

“I’m happy for you, sister. Everytime you speak of Neteyam, your eyes just light up.” For emphasis, Tsireya drags her fingers under her sister’s eyes, watching as Awra’s expression melt into a fit of embarrassed chuckles.

“Oh yeah? How about you and Lo’ak?” Awra drags Lo’ak’s name out on purpose, watching as Tsireya flounders shyly. “Is that who the basket is for?”

Tsireya giggles, nodding. “I tried to make him a basket because he said he needed one for when we go free diving again. But I can’t help that I’m just no good at weaving.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t help it if I’m just a master weaver.” Awra shrugs, laughing. Tsireya shoves her playfully.

“I can’t remember the last time we hung out together at home, sister. Just you and me.” Tsireya murmurs, voice quiet. “It seems like we’ve been so busy, since the Ometicayans arrived.”

Awra nods. “Yeah, sorry.” She can’t help but add an apology, suddenly feeling sorry for all those nights she’d spent sneaking out to meet Neteyam. Those nights felt like so long ago now, and she heaved a sigh at the thought.

“Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to apologise for, sister. I’ve been caught up as well, and I’ve not been the best sister to you.” Tsireya’s voice takes on a remorseful tone, her body laying closer to Awra’s. “Sometimes I forget how much you sacrifice for me.”

Awra’s browbone furrows at that, facing her sister. “Don’t say that. I do it because I love you, sister. It doesn’t weigh on me.”

“I know it does. It has to, sister.” Tsireya replies, eyes soulful as she looks at Awra. “If it were me, I doubt I would have the strength to do what you do.”

Awra sighs and looks down. “It’s not like that, Tsireya.”

“I know it is. I know Mother and Father expect you to be perfect all the time, and I know you wish you could have stayed a child for longer. I know these things sister, I can see the longing you hold in your eyes.” Tsireya pauses for a breath, wrapping her thin fingers around Awra’s forearm. “I know you wish to shield me from these thoughts you have, but I am here to remind you that I am your sister. I want to be here for you, like you are for me.”

Awra stays silent, eyes downcast. Tsireya’s words hang between them like a thick veil of mist.

“Awra, sister please.” Tsireya tugs on Awra’s forearm, urging the older girl to meet her eyes. Awra does so reluctantly, suddenly too aware of the tears clouding her vision. She’s hesitant to admit how long she’d been waiting to hear someone utter those words – words of validation to her sacrifice, an admission of her desperate desire to be the best daughter, the best sister. What she wasn’t prepared for however, was how emotional it would be to hear those words from her younger sister.

Her younger sister, who wore her heart on her sleeve; with all the warmth in the world. Tsireya. Tsireya who just years ago, bounced happily in her lap as Awra braided her hair. She couldn’t help the amused sigh she lets out at the realisation that Tsireya had grown up. Tsireya frowns, tucking a braid behind her own ear as she traces the tear that slides down Awra’s face.

“Did I oversstep?” Tsireya looks guilty, hands stroking over Awra’s gently. “I’m sorry–”

“No! No. Don’t apologise,” Awra wipes the tear from her cheek, a watery chuckle emerging from the depths of her chest. “You didn’t say anything wrong, sevin. I’m just…emotional. You’ve grown.”

Tsireya growls playfully at that, narrowing her eyes. “Of course I have, sister. Did you not notice?”

Awra laughs, swatting at her sister. “Of course I have. It’s just, I guess it seemed like yesterday you were so tiny. And now look at you. Giving your older sister advice while I cry like a fool.”

Tsireya giggles at that, one that Awra returns. She smiles at Tsireya, the warmth of the fire casting a shadow on half of her face. And yet, her sister’s love twinkles in the depths of her emerald eyes, and brings a warmth to Awra’s chest.

“The truth is, there have been things that happened lately. They’ve troubled me greatly.” Awra’s voice is small in the marui, and she shivers as a stray breeze drifts into the marui. Tsireya looks on quietly, stroking over Awra’s knuckles.

“I’m sure you are aware I am to be mated to Te’lau, as Mother and Father wish.” Awra’s throat bobs as she considers her next words. “But something happened a few eclipses ago, and he claimed me. Against my wishes.”

Tsireya’s gasp is instantaneous, and she stops stroking over Awra’s knuckles as her hands fly up to cover her mouth. Awra reaches up to tug her necklace down, showing the bite mark. Tsireya’s eyes widen even further, breath caught in her throat as her tail goes rigid behind her.

“Sister–”

“Y–yeah, that happened a few eclipses ago. He smelt Neteyam on me and I guess he, he decided that claiming me against my will would be the best thing to do.” Awra lets out a shaky sigh, hands trembling where they’re clasped in her lap. Tsireya reaches for her, warm hands soothing over her bony ones. “And now, I’m stuck at a crossroads of what to do. I love Neteyam, sister. I didn’t realise this before, but I do now. But my mating with Te’lau is written in stone, and what of a sacred union when he’s forced himself on me this way?”

Tsireya’s grip on her hands tighten, as she sucks in a sharp breath at Awra’s admission. Awra just shakes her head, willing the burning in her waterline to go away. She’d wept enough tears for the day.

“I spoke to Kiri today, and Tuk too. I apologised for pushing them away, and Kiri suggested I speak with Neteyam at dawn. About this.” Awra gestures to her neck, and Tsireya’s expression morphs into one of realisation.

“So Te’lau can’t get to you.”

Awra nods, throat dry. “Yes.”

“We should tell sempu–”

“No.” Awra is quick to interject, shaking her head. “Not yet at least. Let me, let me talk to Neteyam first. And then I’ll figure out a way to deal with Te’lau.”

Tsireya’s expression is uneasy, but she nods. “I’m sorry sister. I’ve been so distracted with Lo’ak.”

Awra shakes her head. “You sound just like Kiri.” She chuckles, squeezing Tsireya’s hand. “It’s not your fault, sevin.”

“From now on, you have to promise me you’ll tell me when things like this happen. Please sister.” Tsireya begs, eyes pleading. “I cannot bear the thought of you going through such things alone. It cannot happen anymore. Promise me.”

Awra’s eyes soften at her sister’s worry, nodding her head solemnly. She clasps their hands together as an unsaid promise, a small smile on her lips. “I’m sorry, sister. I don’t mean to worry you.”

“Of course I worry! I’ll never stop worrying sister.” Is Tsireya’s answer. “You’re my only sister. I can’t lose you.”

Awra pulls Tsireya into a hug, feeling her sister melt into her.

“You won’t lose me, sevin. I’ll always be here for you.” Awra whispers to Tsireya, watching as her sister’s eyes well with unshed tears. Her heart breaks at Tsireya’s heartbroken expression, and she tucks her sister securely into her side. “I’ll always be here with you.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam angst #neteyam avatar #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #atwow #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 12

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

Awra had woken up that morning with the intention to make things right with the Sully family. Talking to Neteyam proved to be difficult, because the older Sully boy was so elusive; always disappearing right when she tried to search for him. Lo’ak seemed to be in a sour mood, no doubt from yesterday’s events, so she left him in Tsireya’s care. Her younger sister had been fawning over the younger Sully, eyes wide as she’d recounted so sweetly to Awra of her conversation with Lo’ak after eclipse.

“He’d been so sweet, sister. I cannot explain it to you.” Tsireya had gushed, hands clasped together.

“Oh?” Comes Awra’s hushed reply, eyes glinting in the dimness of the marui. Tsireya had, of course, returned home only hours after eclipse had settled, sneaking quietly into their marui long after their parents had retired for the night. “And what exactly did you two talk about for so long?”

Tsireya blushes. In the low lights, Awra can just about make out the shallow dips of her sister’s dimples. They were hereditary, of course, and both her and Awra had their father to thank for them.

“We talked about the tulkun, and I told him–,” Tsireya pauses mid-sentence, and a shy smile tugs at her full lips. Her sister ducks her head, fiddling with her fingers.

“Told him what sister?” Awra presses, eyes curious. Tsireya stifles a cheeky giggle, hand coming up to press against her mouth as she meets Awra’s eyes. Awra notices the glint in her sister’s large eyes, adoration mixed with admiration swirling in the crystalline depths.

“I told him that he’s one of us now. And that I see him.” At the shy admission, Tsireya’s blush deepens, and Awra can’t help the giggle that tickles at her chest too. The sound is bashful, and she leans closer to her sister, placing a hand on Tsireya’s thigh.

“And what of his reaction to your kind words?” Awra feels her own mood soar at Tsireya’s words, remembering the time when she would hide from their parents when it came time for chores; opting to whisper childish secrets by the seapools before they would run home guiltily. They’d grown up so much since those times – no longer children but young adults working to earn their place amongst their people. It made Awra’s heart twinge with nostalgia.

Tsireya bites her lip, looking down at her lap shyly. “He didn’t say anything sister. But his eyes.” As Tsireya recounts the expression on Lo’ak’s face, Awra can’t help but let her mind wander to the older Sully brother – she wondered if his large, amber eyes would widen in shock if she had uttered those same words. “His eyes sister. They were indescribable.”

After their hushed conversation, Awra sent her sister off to bed in a fit of cheeky giggles before tucking herself in with a full heart. She’d let herself ride on the coattails of her sister’s budding romance with Lo’ak, praying to Eywa for courage in facing the Sully siblings later that day. But alas, as she carefully approached the Sully marui, she could feel the dredges of courage escape her. She’d spent all morning working up the courage to visit the Sully marui to ask for Kiri and Tuk. She’d figured she would devise a more strategic plan in approaching Neteyam, so it could wait. For now, she wanted to tackle her consequences one at a time – starting with the Sully sisters.

Jake Sully sits with Neytiri on the edge of their marui, tending to some cooking. She can smell a fire going, and if she cranes her neck, she can see Neytiri gently folding meat into large leaves for preserving. Awra clears her throat, treading lightly up to the lip of the marui.

“Hello Mr Sully, Mrs Sully.” She greets politely, dipping her head in respect. Jake looks up first, head tilting in confusion at the sight of the Olo ‘eyktan’s daughter outside their marui. Neytiri looks on cautiously, turning subconsciously towards her mate, eyes never leaving Awra’s face. The expression on Neytiri’s face makes Awra shift uncomfortably. While Jake seemed more perplexed than threatened at Awra’s presence, the Sully mother looked extremely displeased. They both regarded her apprehensively, and she really didn’t blame them. The last time she was here, she was being carried in, bloody and bleeding in the arms of their oldest son. Thinking back, she’d never offered an explanation to that ordeal. Not even a thank you, she winces to herself,

“Hello Awra, what can we do for you?” Comes Jake’s voice. He puts on a courteous smile, setting aside the wooden board he’d been using to prepare food on. “Is everything okay?” Despite the facade he puts on, Awra can tell the way apprehension bleeds into the lines on his face, pulling at the edges of his gracious front.

She nods uneasily, eyes flitting between Jake and Neytiri. Neytiri has since stopped folding the meat into the leaves, turning to face Awra fully. Her lips were set into a firm line, the corners dropping to show her displeasure with Awra. Awra couldn’t help but fidget uncomfortably under Neytiri’s stare, tail swaying slowly behind her as she stood.

“Neteyam is not here.” The Sully mother remarks suddenly, voice sharp. Jake turns to his mate, eyes wide. “So you should go.”

Awra cringes, swallowing hard at the sound of Neytiri’s voice. She sounded upset, tone sharp as she glared down at the younger Na’vi girl. Awra could see the way Neytiri’s shoulders squared almost imperceptibly, a show of dominance as the older Na’vi woman straightened her posture. Neytiri’s message was clear: leave now, while you can.

Jake chuckles awkwardly, trying to alleviate the tension. “Hey! Hey, let’s not scare her away.” He starts, a hand coming to rest reassuringly on Neytiri’s thigh. Neytiri doesn’t budge, gaze still fixed firmly on Awra. “I apologise for my mate, she’s not in the best moods after what happened yesterday. You must forgive her.”

That earns him a stern glare from Neytiri. “Do not apologise for me,” she hisses at Jake. The Sully father wrings his hands out in a placating manner. Awra watches silently, humiliation burning in her gut. She sees the look in Jake’s eyes, large and round as if pleading for his mate to stand down. Awra bites her lips, fiddling with her fingers as she watches this exchange. Did they hate her this much already?

The guilt builds to a crescendo in her gut, punctuated by feelings of self-loathing and deprecation. It finally spills forth in an ugly flurry. “I’m sorry, I should go.” She blurts out, grimacing. “I’m so sorry Mrs Sully.”

“Hey wait, Awra–” Jake reaches for her, stepping out of the marui. Awra flinches away on instinct, and Jake’s browbone creases in concern. He tilts his head, but Awra avoids his gaze.

“Awra, why did you come here? Was there something you needed?” He asks, gentler this time. He sounds like a father, voice placating as he crouches to get to her eye-level. She turns to face him, taking in his features – feathery eyebrows pinched in concern, long dreadlocks spilling over his shoulders. He’s intimidating despite his gentleness, and she has to take a deep breath to find the bravery to speak.

“Yes Mr Sully, I was wondering if Kiri and Tuk were here?” Her words come out shaky, and she can’t help the wary glance she spares at Neytiri. The Sully mother was still sitting on the lip of the marui, glancing down at Awra with barely concealed irritation. Her tail flicked and twitched behind her, indicating annoyance. Awra’s heart sinks to her feet, but she forces herself to tear her eyes away to focus on Jake instead.

Jake spares a look up at his mate as well, who shakes her head at him. It’s a quick shake, barely perceptible, but it tells Awra all she needs to know. She notices the look on Jake’s face as he turns back to face her – he looks torn between decisions. His eyebrows are furrowed and he bites his lip, looking away for a moment before sighing heavily. Awra’s heart sinks at his reaction, fully prepared to make the shameful walk back to her marui alone. But Jake fixes her with a soft expression, placing a large five-fingered hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but they’re not here.” He finally admits, voice soothing. “But I think I heard Kiri say she’d be by the seapools today. You can try looking for them there?” Awra lights up at his admission, tail swishing in excitement; but she hears Neytiri click her tongue.

“Jake–” His name sounds like a warning on Neytiri’s tongue, and Awra’s insides twist. She dared not look in the Sully mother’s direction, swallowing nervously as Jake gives her a small push away from the marui.

“Go on then!” Jake interrupts, an encouraging smile on his face. Awra shoots Jake a grateful smile before signing a ‘thank you’. He nods, waving her off. She almost trips herself when running on the netted pathway to the seapools, sprinting away from the Sully’s marui where Neytiri was no doubt, swearing her back to her ancestors.

It pained her to know how much Neytiri had detested her, but she figured it was in a mother’s instinct to want to protect her children. Awra had afterall, deeply upset all of her aforementioned children; so it was no wonder the Sully mother was so protective. It still hurt nevertheless, and made shame burn in her cheeks. She coudn’t help but wonder what Neteyam had said to Neytiri, or what Lo’ak, Kiri or Tuk had shared to make Neytiri so upset with her. Her stomach coiled with anxiety, and she could feel her palms become clammy at the thought of talking to Kiri and Tuk.

She let her muscle memory guide her to the seapools, and by the time she’d arrived, there was already a thin sheen of perspiration forming on her forehead. The seapools sparkled with the sun’s warm rays this early in the morning, and framed by the great expanse of ocean behind it, the view was breathtaking. The water is a vibrant cerulean, clear enough so that you could see the bottoms of each shallow pool. As a child, the seapools were her favourite place to find special rocks and shells for her hair ornaments – the gentle lull of water here preserving the unique shape and markings of the delicate materials while cleaning them of dirt and grit. It was always great fun to scour the shallow pools for new shells to add to her collection as well, and she used to spend hours wading around in the knee-deep water with Tsireya to evade their chores.

It wasn’t hard to spot Kiri and Tuk, their dark cobalt skin a stark contrast against the other Metkayina villagers. They were crouching together in a seapool, and she could see Tuk talking animatedly to Kiri as the latter nodded and smiled softly. As she walked over, she could feel the trepidation manifesting in the form of a rapid pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath in, letting the air fill her lungs and instill a false sense of bravery. As she neared the girls, Kiri abruptly stood up, and Awra caught her eye. The smile on Kiri’s face faded to something like a frown, and Awra could only force a stiff smile in return. Placing a hand over her heart to will it to calm, she hurriedly leapt into the seapool with the Kiri and Tuk, wading in with her hands.

Tuk pauses, a fistful of shiny searocks in her hand. Her shoulder sling looked taut, the material damp as the wetness of the freshly collected stones seeped through. Tuk’s smile drops from her cherub face, lips turning down as she quickly stuffs the handful of stones into her already filled sling. She turns away from Awra, sniffling.

“Kiri–” Tuk starts, voice barely above a murmur. Awra’s heart breaks at the sound of Tuk’s pitiful whine, wanting nothing more than to reach out and pull the youngest Sully into a hug. When the Sullys first touched down on their shores, she recalled being extremely fond of the youngest girl – what with her eyes large with wonder and curiosity; she reminded Awra so much of Tsireya when they were younger. It triggered her protectiveness, and she spent many hours with Tuk during their first eclipses here talking about the way of water; and she’d never forget the way Tuk would giggle as she asked question after question about Awra’s strangely-shaped tail and arms. To have that familiarity stripped away pained Awra more than she could express.

Kiri rolls her eyes, ignoring Awra’s pleading stare. “Kiri, can we talk–”

“Let’s go, Tuk.” Kiri grabs Tuk’s arm gently, trying to drag her sister away and out of the seapools. Awra’s ears flatten against her head, stepping in front of the sisters to block their way. “Wait, please. Kiri, I can explain.”

Kiri scoffs incredulously. “There’s nothing to explain.” She drawls, refusing to meet Awra’s eyes. Tuk stands beside Kiri, arm still held in Kiri’s hand. The younger Sully is looking up at Awra with sad woeful eyes, lips formed into a pout.

“You’re mean Awra!” Comes Tuk’s cry. “You’re a big meanie because you ignored us! And you made us all sad.” Tuk tugs her hand out of Kiri’s grasp, folding them in front of her chest. She shot Awra a disapproving glare, and Awra felt herself deflate at the youngest Sully’s comments.

“She doesn’t care Tuk. I already told you. She has better things to worry about.” Kiri bites, still refusing to look at the Metkayina. Awra worries at her lip, hands strung together as she frantically tried to think of some way to defuse the situation. When Awra doesn’t respond, Kiri looks up at Awra, finally finally meeting her gaze. Kiri’s eyes are full of disappointment, but she can see the underlying hurt in the way the Ometicayan girl’s eyebrows crease and dip. Kiri huffs, shaking her head.

“Let’s just go Tuk–”

“I’m sorry.” Awra utters, head hanging in shame. “I’m sorry Kiri, and I’m sorry Tuk. I’m a horrible friend, and you guys deserve to be mad at me. But please, please just hear me out.” Awra looks at Kiri, and then at Tuk, blinking to keep her tears at bay. This was no time for crocodile tears.

Tuk turns to Kiri, and both girls seem to converse with their eyes for a beat; before Kiri nods. She still looks distrustful, lips turned down at the corners. Awra can’t help the small sigh of relief.

“Thank you, thank you.” She heaves, and Kiri just nods, face still stoic. Awra swallows, taking a deep breath before exhaling. Tuk watches her closely, arms still folded in front of her as she blinks up at Awra.

“I like Neteyam.” She starts cautiously, eyeing the Sully sisters to gauge their reaction.

“That much is obvious.” Comes Kiri’s snarky reply. Awra nods stiffly at her curt response, before continuing.

“We met, a few days ago in a cove near the end of the island. We…we spent some time together there, and we left separately that night to head back to the village.” Awra had chosen to omit the part where she’d seen their brother naked and writhing – she figured it was for the best. Kiri’s eyebrow quirks in response, but she says nothing.

“When I left, I ran into Te’lau.” She sees Tuk’s lips part, and Awra is quick to explain. “Te’lau is to be my mate. My parents have promised me to him. He is to be Olo’ eyktan and I am to be his Tsahik.” At that, Tuk’s frowns, opening her mouth again but Kiri shushes her gently. Tuk pouts, but stays quiet.

“He could…could–” Awra stumbles on her words, shame in her gut. Taking another deep inhale, she steeled her gut and tried again. “He could smell Neteyam on me, saw the marks he left behind. He cornered me and–” Awra stops, voice shaky as she forces herself to recount what happened that night after she’d left Neteyam at the cove.

She squeezes her eyes shut. “He–he pushed me down. He held me down, on the ground and called me names.” Her voice comes out warbled, and she fiddles restlessly with her hands. She bites down on her lip, humiliation stinging her cheeks. She’s afraid to look up at Kiri, afraid of the disgust and rejection she’d see on their faces. She thought about telling them about the bite, feeling it throb under her skin. Her hands itch to cover it up, but she pushes the urge down. She didn’t want to talk about the bite in front of Tuk.

“I tried to get away, I did, but he was too strong. I tried, but I fainted and I woke up in his marui. So I–” She pauses to breathe, her frantic pace leaving no space for a breath. “I–I got away, but he found me. Neteyam was there, but he promised to hurt me, threatened to expose me for being with Neteyam and I just couldn’t–”

At the admission, Awra sucks in a shuddery breath, suddenly aware of the tears at her lashline. She hastily wipes them away on the back of her hand, exhaling. “I couldn’t deal with the thought of Te’lau exposing us to my parents. I’ve already caused them enough disappointment. I didn’t want any of this to reach Neteyam or any of you either. I didn’t think, so I just…ran.” Awra admits, voice a murmur. She can hear her own voice reverberating in the quiet around them, and she couldn’t recognise herself. She sounded so weak and defeated. How could she have let it get this bad?

“I just ran away. I left him there. I left Neteyam in the village and I ran home. I just thought if I stayed away from him, I’d be able to keep Te’lau quiet. If my parents find out about me and Neteyam, I–I don’t know what they’ll do, and I couldn’t forgive myself if your uturu was jeopardized because of me. I don’t want to make things worse. Looks like I did anyway.” The last part is a whisper, and Awra feels incredibly small. She can feel the Sully sisters’ stares burning into her face, and she forces herself to meet their gaze. What would she see? Anger? Betrayal? Resentment? Disgust?

Instead, she sees sorrow. Pity. She barely registers the emotion flitting through Kiri’s face before glancing down at Tuk. Tuk is looking at her, warm yellow eyes sad as she reaches for Awra. She’s still pouting, but Awra lets Tuk crush her in a hug.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tuk whines into her belly, voice muffled. “We could protect you.”

Awra can’t help the watery laugh that escapes her. “I didn’t want you to have to, Tuktuk.”

Tuk pulls away, pouting up indignantly. “Daddy says Sullys stick together. No one can hurt us when we’re together.” She exclaims defiantly, bearing her small canines. Awra chuckles, eyes still wet.

“Okay Tuk, you’re right. I’m a big meanie, and I made a mistake. I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?” She asks, voice still weary and shaky. Tuk nods once, a small smile on her face.

“As long as you promise never to ignore me again.” She mutters, poking Awra’s stomach. Awra smiles, and nods affirmatively.

“Promise Tuktuk.” Awra says, clasping Tuk’s small hand in hers. “Thank you for forgiving me.” Tuk just nods, before turning to peer up at her older sister. Kiri looks confounded, brows pinched.

“Kiri, you have to forgive her!” Comes Tuk’s whine, voice high as she tugs on Kiri’s hand. “C’mon!” Tuk drags out the word, yanking on Kiri’s arm. Kiri huffs, rolling her eyes again. Tuk lets go of her hand, wrinkling her nose at her sister.

Awra gazes uneasily at the older Sully sister, staring hopefully as Kiri finally opens her mouth.

“You’re stupid, you know that?” She huffs, crossing her arms. Awra blinks, but nods sheepishly.

“Yeah, I got that.”

“You’re stupid for trying to keep all that a secret.” Kiri snaps, eyes boring into Awra’s. Awra’s lips part to explain herself, but Kiri cuts her off. “Let me finish.”

Awra’s jaw snaps shut. “You’re stupid for thinking you have to do this alone. You’re stupid for thinking you could do this alone. And you’re especially stupid for pushing us away.” Kiri voice is taut with frustration, and by the end of her sentence, Awra could see her chest heaving with exertion. “You’re stupid for not letting us in, stupid.”

Awra smiles, but it’s more like a grimace. “Got it, I’m stupid.” She affirms, fidgeting. Kiri glares at her, eyes shutting in exasperation before she sighs, a hand coming up to rest over her eyes. Awra’s eyes follow the movement of her hand, taking in Kiri’s posture that was fraught with vexation.

And then, Kiri sighs long and slow. “Why didn’t you tell us? Tell me?” Kiri asks, voice pointed. Her hand drops from her eyes, revealing a deep sorrow for Awra’s plight. “You know I’m here for you. Why didn’t you come to me?”

“I’m here too!” Tuk chimes in, much to Awra’s amusement. Kiri shushes Tuk, and Tuk pouts at her sister.

“Thank you Tuktuk.” Awra replies gratefully. Tuk beams at her, pearly whites on display.

Kiri smiles too, hand tucking a braid behind Tuk’s ear. She turns back to Awra, and her expression turns serious. “You–

A horn blares in the distance. Awra’s head snaps in the direction of the horn, ears swivelling. “Something is happening at the village. We should–” Awra falters, hating that her conversation with Kiri was interrupted. Kiri just nods, eyes softening.

“We should go. I’ll meet you after dinner, near the pier. And we’ll finish talking about this. And don’t you think about slinking away this time.” Awra nods gratefully, and slips Tuk’s hand in hers before leading the Sully girls out of the seapools and back to the village.

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Back at the village, there’s a crowd gathering near the tak’hu, and sounds of cheer can be heard. Men chorus in triumph, bellowing sounds of congratulations as a group of young warriors appear by the pier on their skimwings. The young men are weary, fatigue written into their expressions as they climb onto the pier slowly. The commotion only grows with every young warrior that emerges onto the pier, soaking wet as they stand proudly on the netted paths.

“Let us welcome back our brave warriors!” Awra hears her father’s booming voice at the lip of the tak’hu, and she can just about spot him standing on the lip of the clan marui with her mother. They’re wearing large smiles, nodding proudly as they usher in the young Metkayina warriors. “Today is a day of celebration! Our people grows strong with our new warriors!”

“What’s happening?” Kiri murmurs, sidling up beside Awra as they take in the commotion.

Awra’s eyes dart through the young warriors standing in a row, chewing on her lip nervously as she waits to spot Te’lau. She wasn’t sure if he had joined this first group of young warriors in this moon’s Iknimaya. “It’s the end of this moon’s Iknimaya. These are the young warriors who have returned successfully.” She answers absentmindedly, grip on Tuk’s hand tightening. She knows her parents are urging the crowd to dance and celebrate, and as the bodies around them surge, Awra tries to shuffle the Ometicayan sisters towards the edge of the mass of bodies.

Kiri just hums, blinking as the crowd seems to disperse slightly, forming a large circle around the young warriors. Awra counts seven of them, eyes hardened as they signal their skimwings to leave the pier. Her eyes dart from face to face frantically, trying to see if Te’lau were here. For a moment, she doesn’t spot him, and she feels relief flood her chest.

Around them, the celebrations continue to build to a frenzied high. Villagers growl and snarl at one another, their cries ululating through the circle. Tuk shrinks into Awra’s side, overwhelmed by the intensity of the ritualistic behaviour. Awra squeezes her hand reassuringly, offering the youngest Ometicayan a gentle smile. “Don’t be afraid. They are happy. This is just how my people celebrate the young warriors who have completed their Ikinimaya.”

Tuk meets Awra’s gaze apprehensively, nodding her head. “I’m sorry,” Tuk says, rubbing her eye. “We celebrate differently back home. In the forest.”

Awra smiles, the uproar fading into the background. She crouches down next to Tuk, smoothing down the girl’s braids. “Oh yeah? How did you guys celebrate Iknimaya?”

Tuk’s eyes light up at the mention of her home, tail flicking in interest. Awra smiles, listening to Tuk talk excitedly about Ometicayan traditions and rituals, chuckling and nodding at the younger Na’vi’s enthusiasm. Kiri watches on, an amused smile on her face as Tuk rambles. Just then, someone whoops loudly and Awra turns slightly, adjusting herself on her crouch. As she does, her gaze sweeps back over the commotion just in time to see another Metkayina warrior clamber onto the pier. Her heart stops.

Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him.

It’s Te’lau. As he hauls himself onto the net, his shoulders square and he wears a smirk on his face. He rolls his right shoulder once, twice, before wringing water out of his braids. Awra watches, icy fear gripping her chest, as he stalks over to join the other young warriors in the middle of the merrymaking. She can’t hear Tuk anymore, words fading into a buzz as she stares at the way he laughs, unpleasant guffaws travelling through the noise and sending chills up her spine.

He’s completed his Iknimaya successfully. That means–that means he’s free to mate. He’s free to claim me as his. He’s free to–

She’s shaken from her reverie by Tuk shaking her shoulder. “Are you listening Awra? Stop spacing out!” She complains, browbone creased in a frown.

“Sorry–sorry Tuk.” She rasps out, shaking her head. She forces herself to tear her eyes away from where Te’lau is standing, ears twitching at the sound of his laughter. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking you a question! While you were spacing out.” Tuk chides, crossing her arms. Kiri jabs Tuk for that, frowning. Tuk simply sticks her tongue out in retaliation as Awra lets out a forced chuckle. “What happens when you finish your Iknimaya here?”

What timing. She can’t help the fearful glance she makes over at Te’lau – he’s still facing another young warrior, his side to her. She’s sure he can’t spot her through the throngs of villagers, but his presence alone makes her skin crawl. Awra clears her throat.

“Well, you uh–can, you are recognised as an adult in the people.” She starts, willing herself to sound at ease. “You can decide if you wish to be a healer, forager or–or a hunter. Then, you can choose a mate.”

“Cool!” Tuk exclaims, eyes shining up at her sister. Kiri just nods, looking into the crowd disinterestedly. “Kiri are you listening!”

Kiri groans. “Yes, Tuk.” Awra forces a tight smile, watching as Tuk pulls her older sister down into a crouch next to Awra. She shuffles over, making space for the Ometicayans. They’re hiding near a marui, away from the ruckus of the celebrations. As she watches villagers dance in groups and roar with laughter, Awra finds herself glad that she’s more or less hidden from sight.

“When is your Iknimaya, Awra?” Tuk asks. Awra bites her cheek, blinking down at the youngest Sully.

“Soon, Tuk. In a couple of moons, it’ll be my turn up on that pier.” Awra jokes reluctantly, laughing listlessly. The crowd thrums with energy, the netted pathways shaking with the movement of the crowds. At the corner of her eye, she sees movement and turns to see what it is.

She whips her head around, braids falling around her face. And there he is. Te’lau stands, one hand on his hip and another waving at her. He’s smirking, his expression dark as he catches her eye. Awra gasps, falling back as he stares at her, the tip of his long canines poking out from where his upper lip is curled menacingly. Her eyes widen, breathing speeding up as he just stares. Nobody around him seems to notice this exchange, as the crowd moves around him – tugging and pushing.

She feels as if she’s stuck in some sort of trance – her body feels like the roots of a great tree; rooted firmly into the ground beneath her. She can’t move, stricken with panic as Te’lau simply waves. Kiri notices her odd behaviour – eyes enlarged with fright as one hand grips the netting below her. Alarmed, Kiri reaches out to touch Awra’s shoulder. “Hey Awra, are you okay–”

She’s taken aback when Awra whimpers and flinches, turning to face Kiri with glassy eyes. “Awra?” Awra doesn’t register her name, scrambling onto her feet as Kiri looks on in confusion. “Awra? Awra!”

Tuk grabs Awra’s hand, and Awra chokes out a “no”. She yanks her hand out of Tuk’s grasp, barely registering the crestfallen look on Tuk’s face. Awra eyes snap down to Kiri, and Tuk’s, before she looks back in Te’lau’s direction. Kiri turns her head too, eyes searching through the crowd for what Awra is staring at, but finds nothing outstanding in the horde of bodies.

“Awra! Awra hey! You’re scaring Tuk. What’s going on with you?” Kiri demands, hands planted on Awra’s shoulders. Awra shakes in Kiri’s grasp, eyes unfocused as she continues staring at one point into the crowd. Kiri’s frown deepens, forcing Awra back onto the net as she peers into the crowd to get a better look. Kiri doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary for a moment, nothing but masses of happy Metkayina villagers. But then she sees a young warrior – he’s built, tall frame hovering within the mass of villagers but somehow remaining imperceptible. He’s got a smirk on his face as he stares at Awra, with an expression Kiri can only describe as condescending.

She turns to her Awra, grabbing her arm firmly and pulling the Metkayina to her feet. Awra blinks, letting herself be manhandled by Kiri. He doesn’t seem to be doing anything other than waving, but something about his demenour screams predator, and the expression on his face leaves a deeply unsettling feeling in Kiri’s gut.

“Tuk! Grab her other arm. We’re getting her home. Now.” Tuk nods, slipping her arm under Awra’s armpit and helping Kiri lift her to her feet. Together, the Ometicayan siblings half carry Awra back to her marui, but not before Kiri shoots Te’lau one last glance. She memorises his face, the way his braids look, the way his browbone creases before pulling Awra out of sight.

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By the time they arrived at Awra’s marui, Awra feels more lucid. Her heart wasn’t pounding anymore, and she could wiggle her toes. She coughs, planting her feet into the ground a few paces away from her marui.

“Sorry about that.” Awra apologises, voice small. She pulls herself out Kiri’s grasp, before gently untangling Tuk from her. “I don’t know what happened.”

Kiri stops mid-step, one hand on Awra’s back to steady the Metkayina girl. She can’t help but notice the way Awra seems to shrink in on herself, one of her large hands resting on a spot on her neck. “Are you okay? What happened back there?”

Awra just clears her throat, looking at Tuk’s worried expression. She forces out a believable chuckle, ruffling Tuk’s braids playfully. Tuk frowns, shaking Awra’s hand off. “You scared us Awra. We thought something bad was happening.” Comes Tuk’s chiding tone, large eyes rounded in concern.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Sorry for scaring you guys.” Awra says, straightening her posture as her tail hangs low near her ankle.

Kiri suppresses the urge to roll her eyes again. “You’re so obviously not fine.”

Awra winces, remembering Kiri’s words earlier that day. Stop pushing us away. She clears her throat, eyes darting to Tuk as she tries to send Kiri a message with her eyes. Kiri blinks in confusion at first, but as she look between her sister and the Metkayina, realisation dawns. Let’s talk later. Not in front of Tuk.

At that, Kiri just sighs long and deep. “Alright. Alright then. Come along Tuk, we’re going home.”

Tuk protests at that, a whine on the tip of her tongue as Kiri tugs her away from Awra’s marui. “But–”

“Mom and Dad are probably wondering where we are. C’mon! Don’t wanna get in trouble like Lo’ak right?” Kiri jests, shooting Tuk a look filled with mirth. Tuk nods begrudgingly, lips creased into a pout as she lets her sister pull her towards the Sully marui. Tuk waves at Awra, who returns the wave with a small smile.

As Kiri leaves, she turns back, fixing Awra with a look. Awra nods in response. See you later. Don’t even think about slinking out of this one.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam avatar #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam angst #atwow #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #avatar

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 11

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

It’s agony, Awra thinks, having to spend so much time with her parents and the clan elders; but anything is better than accidentally running into Te’lau in the village again. Or Eywa forbid, Neteyam. After her unceremonious departure a few days prior, she’d been ignoring the Sully family all together – even Kiri and Tuk; the latter who had sent her hurting glances during clan dinners or when they’d breeze past each other in the village. Awra’s heart had broke when she saw Tuk tugging on Kiri’s arm in sadness, whispering about Awra’s absence while her eyes watered. Kiri had said nothing, placing a gentle hand on her sister and tugging Tuk away with the rest of the family. Great, now Kiri hates me too, Awra sighs to herself.

At the beginning, Neteyam being the sweetheart that he was, had tried his best to reach out; but to no avail. She’d made sure to avoid all his usual haunts, and that meant having to give up her favourite weaving spot down by the beach. It pained her to weave in the silence of her family marui instead of by the ocean, but she really couldn’t handle having that conversation with the Ometicayan right now. He had tried for days to see her, only to get silence in return. Neteyam had even gone as far as to try waiting outside her family’s marui pod for her at sunrise, hoping to catch her before she disappeared into the buzz of village life. His presence outside their home had caught the attention of her mother, who quickly demanded an explanation.

“Why has he been loitering outside our marui?” She had questioned, hands on her hips. Awra just sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat. She could not find the strength to argue nor defend herself. She put down the strands of sea leather in her hands, staring up at her mother wearily.

“I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m not trying to see him anyway.” Her reply was haphazard, and a little rude in hindsight, but her mother just nodded and let her be; reassured by the disinterest on her daughter’s face. Safe to say, her mood had been sour the past week, and with her Iknimaya coming up, it was set only to get worse.

Awra spent all her free time at her family’s marui weaving – baskets, mending loincloths, pieces of tapestry and ceremonial garb for other young hunters. She’d knotted and strung until the tips of her fingers were raw, folding and bending seagrass and sea leather from dawn to eclipse every single day. Her shoulders ached viciously at the end of every day, but she couldn’t stand to be alone with her thoughts. Every waking hour was filled with chores – mundane tasks to keep herself busy and take her mind off Te’lau.

“You know ma’ ite, there is more to life than…weaving.” Her father had commented one night, as their family gathered around the fireplace in their marui. The flame crackled, spitting embers that danced in the cool night air before drifting down onto the pieces of charred coal below. “You should be spending more time outside. With others, preparing for your Iknimaya.”

Awra stared mutely at the fire, eyes gazing into the depths of the orange and amber. She nods, sighing quietly as she pushes a strand of her out of her face. “I know, maseumpu.”

“You look sickly. Have you been eating?” He pushes, raising a hand to lift a bowl of water to his lips. He takes a sip carefully and swallows. It’s deafeningly quiet in their marui – it was well past eclipse and the village had long gone to bed after a day’s work. Her mother was cutting fruit on a block of wood, humming under her breath.

“I’ve not been feeling well, masempu.” She answers, crossing her legs to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. She inspects the way her arm bands glint in the light of the fire, the turquoise stones catching the gleams of amber flickering in the fireplace. “I’ve been worried, about my Iknimaya. I’ve been troubled, so I’ve not been well.” She admits, a half-truth.

He nods, still facing the fire. For a beat, all she can hear is the gentle thudding of her mother’s knife raking against the block of wood, the soft squelch of fruit being cut. Then, her father speaks. “You should consult Te’lau. He is a fine warrior, and will be able to guide you in your preparation.” She feels her heart shrivel. Her father continues. “It will be a good chance for you two to get to know each other.”

He chuckles at that, but all she can feel is the massive lump in her throat. She hugs her knees tighter to her chest, lungs constricting. Her father doesn’t notice her change in demeanour, low chuckles reverberating through their marui. Her mother offers slices of fruit on a wooden board, to which Awra politely declines. She had been sneaking away from meals, avoiding her parents every chance she could when there was food present. She didn’t want them seeing the way she’d stopped eating – her appetite almost non-existent now. They’d been burdened heavily with other clan matters, the last thing Awra wanted was for them to start worrying about her. So she’d spend mealtimes hidden away in the seapools, tinkering with sea critters or hunting for interesting rocks to pass time. Her stomach growled, but food tasted bland on her tongue. Everything she bit into, she’d spit up later, so she stopped eating entirely.

The tension inside their marui was palpable, but Awra was too tired to care. She could feel her mother staring perplexed at her, eyes no doubt tracing the lines of her ribs. Her parents share a knowing look, and her father clears his throat.

“I remember when I was courting your mother,” her father starts, a small smile on his stern features. Awra looks up at that, interest sparked by the unusual sentence. Her father sounded so casual, and if she were being honest, it was a little strange given the circumstance. She stared at his facial tattoos, taking in the way they flickered in the dimness of the marui, illuminated by the fire. He looked less fierce now, smaller and more approachable like her masempu, and not mighty Tonowari the Olo’ eyktan. She used to adore his tales of courtship and Iknimaya when she was a child, giggling as he bounced her on his hip. As she got older, his stories jaded her, and she grew distant. Now sitting there, she missed this – the feeling of togetherness, sharing nostalgic stories over fruit in their family marui. It all seemed so long ago, and she couldn’t help the smile that tugs on her lips when her mother claps her father on the back in embarrassment.

“Aren’t you done telling that story?” Her mother retorts, an amused smile on her face. “I’m sure ma’ ite is tired of hearing it by now.” Her father laughs at that, a hearty sound that rumbles from his chest. She’d forgotten how much she missed his laughter, how it filled her with warmth and feelings of security as a child; dashing around their marui during tickle fights or games of tag. She covers her mouth to stifle a giggle, mood feeling lighter for the first time all week long.

“I’ll always tell the story, no matter how old we get.” Is her father’s smug reply, eyes softening in adoration as he looks at her mother. Her mother rolls her eyes, nudging her father good naturedly. He chuckles at that, and Awra can’t stop the smile that tugs on her lips at that. Her parents were always so serious during the day – fulfilling their duties to the clan, watching over the welfare of others. She rarely got to see this side of them anymore, teasing and bantering with each other so freely in the comfort of home.

Home. That concept had seemed so foreign up until this current moment. Watching her mother teasingly swat at her father, their smiles illuminated by the gentle ochre of a fire. Watching the shadows dip and twirl in the marui as her father retaliated with a playful block and hearty chuckle. Awra giggles at their playful tussle, the atmosphere blissful despite the earlier heaviness. For a long moment, all Awra could hear was the sound of her parents’ childish bickering and the gentle crackle of the flame, as well as her own soft puffs of laughter.

“Even our daughter laughs at your childish ways.” Chides her mother, a cheshire grin on her usual stoic features. She swats at her husband, laughter ringing out inside the marui. Awra brings a hand up to stifle the sound of a snort, amused by her mother’s antics, as her father raises his hands.

“I am not doing anything. I am simply sitting here, as you try to swat me to death woman.” Comes her father’s cheeky reply, laced with mirth as her mother gasps in indignance. Awra shrieks with laughter at that, breath coming in hiccups as she watches on. Her mother’s tail is thumping the ground in mischief, fruits long forgotten on the wooden board as she lunges at her husband. Awra watches her father’s eyes widen in shock, before he raises his arms to block his mother’s teasing shoves.

“You–” Her mother is about to rain another impish blow on her husband, but the sound of a horn erupts through the village, tearing through the silence like a dagger through fabric. The sound is piercing, and immediately, the peace and fun of the evening is shuttered to a grinding halt. Like the pair of well-practiced soldiers they are, Awra’s parents leap apart, grabbing their spears and darting out of their marui. Awra struggles to her feet, days of not eating making her fatigued. She stops to grab a beaded shawl to cover herself with before running after her parents. As they make their way towards the edge of the netted pier overlooking the South of the village, Awra feels her heart sink. The horn was not a sound associated with positive events in the village.

As she approaches the pier, she notices a crowd has gathered, looking out eagerly at the sparkling waters. Her parents are talking to someone in the crowd, and she stands a distance away, not wanting to get pulled into the mass of bodies. She cranes her neck, and narrows her eyes at the sight of a village boy, Ao’nung, standing on the pier as Neteyam yanks on his queue fiercely. She can’t help the way her breath hitches at the sight of the Ometicayan boy, blinking as she takes in his visage against the backdrop of the sea at eclipse. He’s breathtaking.

She steps closer to the crowd. She can’t hear what is being said, but Neteyam looks upset – anger marring his beautiful features. Ao’nung looks remorseful, a bruise under his eye as he violently shrugs off Neteyam’s grip on his queue. A sound from the water draws her eyes, and she is shocked to see Lo’ak getting off an ilu. The younger Sully boy has murder on his expression, and the way he glares at Ao’nung speaks depths of his fury. What did Ao’nung do this time?

She watches her father exchange words with Jake Sully and his son, before Ao’nung is being forced into a crouch. She’s watching intently, ears straining to pick up a shred of the conversation. There’s a tense buzzing among the Metkayina villagers near her, and she hears whispers of the words ‘beyond the reef’. Her heart stops at those words, eyes flitting between Ao’nung and the younger of the Sully boys. Surely that troublemaker Ao’nung had enough sense not to take a prank too far, right? Going beyond the reefs was a death wish and a half. The deep waters were home to Akula, dangerous beasts who hunted anything that splashed and moved; including Na’vi. She bit her lip, dragging her eyes back to Neteyam’s form. Awra takes in the way his back is straight, his chest rising and falling as he stares Ao’nung down. His fists are clenched tightly at his sides, tail standing straight up behind his back. From this angle, she can’t really see his expression, but he looks livid. And then, as if sensing her stare, Neteyam pivots on his heel and turns ever so slightly. His eyes meet hers, and for a second, all she can see if the unadulterated wrath swirling in those amber depths. His lip turns down, and he breaks the eye contact, turning back to his father.

Something in her twists painfully, but she doesn’t have time to dwell on it. The Sully family stalks past her, dragginf Lo’ak back to their marui. She watches them leave with a heavy feeling in her chest as she dares to allow herself one glance at Neteyam’s retreating form. It stings – the way he doesn’t pause in his gait as he strides past her, and the way he doesn’t stop to acknowledge her at all. She feels rejection burn in the depths of her gut, but she says nothing; just clutches tighter at the shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Jake and Neytiri follow closely, holding Lo’ak by his arm. Neytiri doesn’t spare Awra a glance either, preoccupied with staring her youngest son down as he rolls his eyes. Jake offers her a curt nod as he passes, and she returns it with a stiff grimace. She turns, seeing Kiri and Tuk trailing behind. She catches Kiri’s eye, and forces a smile on her lips, hoping to at least make peace with the Sully girls. Tuk frowns, eyes downcast as she holds Kiri’s hand. Kiri’s frown deepens as well, holding Awra’s eye contact before shuffling past quietly.

Awra takes in a long breath. It fills her lungs with the cool night air, but anxiety and guilt swirls in her stomach. So I’ve managed to make the entire Sully family hate me, she thinks. Fantastic. Just fantastic. She chews her lip to ribbons, and a cursory swipe with her tongue picks up the metallic tang of blood. She picks at it with her canines, watching the Sully family grow smaller and smaller as they advance towards their marui. She forces her eyes away, lip still caught between her teeth.

That’s when she smells him. Alkaline and bitter – like unripe fruit. It burns her nose, and her lip curls in disgust. Te’lau emerges from her peripheral, a smug look on his face as he takes in her expression.

“Getting ignored I see?” He sneers, daringly placing a hand around her shoulder. Awra recoils, his clammy flesh against her back and neck revolting to her. He grins, canines on display, taking joy from her discomfort. “Aw, don’t look so sad. Don’t you think it’s for the better?”

Awra hisses at him, baring her teeth. She shrugs his arm off, readjusting her shawl around her shoulders. “Leave me alone.”

Te’lau just snickers, retracting his arm as he stares her down. His eyes flit from her face, to her chest then to her legs, before roaming back up to her face again. He licks his lips, tilting his head as the horrible sneer on his face widens. “Might as well give it up, princess. They hate you now. Don’t go chasing after things you can’t have.”

His tone is condescending, like a parent scolding a child for stealing fruits before mealtimes. It irks her deeply, and she scowls at him. He cocks his head in the direction of her parents, who are speaking to a handful of villagers at the netted pier still. She glances over at them, and her father shoots her a small smile when he notices Te’lau. His eyes dart between her and Te’lau’s larger form, and nods his head reassuringly at her. Almost as if to say, here’s her chance.

“Even your father thinks this union would be for the betterment of the clan.” He says coyly, reaching for a braid dangling near Awra’s right ear. She flinches, and he sniggers, grabbing the braid and twirling it in his fingers. “Stop wasting your time with those…outsiders.” He spits the last words, spittle flying out of his mouth. Awra shivers in disgust, tail coiling around her thigh as the seconds grow more and more unnerving. Te’lau senses her distress, lips pulling back into a frightening smirk. He releases the braid, and it falls against her face.

“Leave me be, Te’lau.” She tries, willing her voice to be strong. “I won’t repeat myself.” She puts up a front, squaring her shoulders as she stares him in the eyes. He snarls at that, and she fights the urge to bare her neck. She can feel her eyes water at the sound, and she takes a step back instinctively.

Leaning in, he bares his long fangs at her menacingly. She shivers. “Or what princess? What will you do. Little Awra, without her saviour.” Her stomach twists in a mix of fear and shame, and she takes another step away. Her arms are curled protectively around her middle, almost as if to shield her body from his gaze. He licks over his teeth, and she feels her neck start to ache.

“You’re mine, Awra. Do you understand? You’re mine. And there’s nothing you, or your pathetic forest boy can do about it.” The aching increases tenfold, and she whimpers discreetly. He steps towards her, casting a careful eye over his shoulder to make sure no one is watching this exchange. She realises woefully that the villagers have started to dissipate, and her parents’ backs are to her – caught up in conversation. She bites back another whine, hand coming up to cover the bite wound on her neck.

His eyes rake over her neck, watching the way she clasps her fingers over it. He grins wickedly, taking delight in her pained expression. “It hurts, doesn’t it? I’ll bet it does. It’s meant to hurt. So you’ll never forget who you belong to.” He snickers darkly at the pinch of her brow, leaning closer until his breath is hitting her cheek. “Who’s going to save you now, Awra?”

Awra feels her knees buckle, and she catches herself before she falls. He sneers at her, looking down at her as she sits on the netted path. He shoots one more vile smile in her direction, before turning and running off. With him away, she feels like she can finally breathe; and she takes greedy mouthfuls of air. Her head spins, and the aching in her neck and shoulder finally starts to ebb into a dull throb instead. She shudders involuntarily, a hand coming to lay over her heart; pulsing erratically under her skin. In, out, repeat. In, out, repeat–

“Awra? Awra!” Awra looks up, and her sister is barrelling towards her with unshed tears in her eyes. She looks distraught, lips turned down into a frown. Awra’s arms open immediately, swaddling her sister as Tsireya collapses into her side with a small sob.

“Tsireya? Where have you been? What happened?” She asks, untangling herself from her sister to swipe at Tsireya’s cheeks. Her sister is sniffling, doe eyes glassy.

“I–I was with Tuk.” At the mention of their names, Awra feels a pang of hurt flash in her chest. She ignores it in favour of pulling her sister closer to her. “We were by the seapools but–” Tsireya chokes on a small sob, and Awra rubs her back soothingly.

“Mawey, sister. Tell me what happened.” Awra reassures, browbone pinching.

“I–I heard Neteyam and Lo’ak got into a fight–”

Awra blinks. “They got into a fight?” Tsireya nods, sniffling. “What about? And with who?”

“It was Ao’nung, and a couple of his friends. They were bullying Kiri, and then Neteyam and Lo’ak got into a fight with them on the beach. It was bad I heard.” Tsireya’s eyes are still watery as she binks up at her sister. “I heard Lo’ak was made to go apologise, but Ao’nung pranked him and left him outside the reef.”

At that, Tsireya’s lip wobbles. Awra shushes her, cradling her close to her chest. “I was so scared when I heard sister, I thought he wouldn’t make it back.” Tsireya whispers, voice shaky. Awra nods solemnly, heart twinging at the sound of her sister’s hurt. She knew Tsireya had a crush on Lo’ak, and cared deeply for him – even if he was a troublemaker sometimes. Knowing he was out there, alone, had been too much for Tsireya’s sensitive heart to bear.

“It’s okay now, sister.” Awra says, voice a soothing hum. “Lo’ak is back, and he is safe. There is no need for tears.” Tsireya just nods, wiping at the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” She asks, looking up at Awra with puffy eyes. “Jake–Mr Sully seemed very upset.”

Awra hums, nodding. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. But if you want, you can go check up on him; make sure he’s okay and has someone to talk to. In case he needs it.”

Tsireya nods in agreement, giving her sister one last squeeze. “I will do that. Thank you Awra. You always know what to say.” Awra smiles at her sister, hugging her tightly in return.

“Now go on then, I’m sure he can’t wait to see you.” Awra teases, urging her sister in the direction of the Sully marui. Tsireya just giggles shyly, leaping to her feet before waving Awra goodbye. “Don’t be home too late! I won’t cover for you if masempu asks!”Tsireya smiles and nods, before taking off, tail waving behind her as she runs.

As she watches her sister leave, she lets her smile drop. She blinks wearily, clambering to her feet. She meets with her parents, both of them with disappointed expressions on their faces. Her father’s lips are set into a thin line, frown lines set deeply into his forehead. Her mother spares on last glance back at the pier, before pulling Awra back in the direction of their home.

On the walk back to their marui, her mother rehashes the tale of what happened. Awra pretends to be surprised, gasping and nodding where appropriate. She can feel herself simmer in irritation at the mention of Ao’nung’s deplorable pranks, and can’t help the sick satisfaction at the thought of Neteyam being the probable cause of that nasty bruise under his eye. Deserved, she smiles to herself. She was never one for violent confrontation, but she loathed the idea of bullying; especially when it concerned Kiri or Tuk. The Sully girls were mild-mannered and kept to themselves alot, which is their silence hurt even more.

Back at their marui, her mother busies herself cleaning up the mess from dinner. The mood inside the marui is sullen after the night’s events, and Awra busies herself helping around the marui to prepare to go to sleep. The wooden boards for food are stowed away while the uneaten fruit is discarded. Awra unfurls the large sleeping mats, setting them down meticulously.

“Where is Tsireya?” Her mother’s voice breaks the silence.

“She told me she’d be busy for a couple of hours, mother. She will be home soon.” Awra lies, nervously avoiding her mother’s gaze.

“Busy? At this late hour?” Her mother questions. Awra bites her lip.

“I didn’t ask with what, mother. But I believe she is helping Nysu’ri blend herbs.” Awra is picking at a corner of the sleeping mat nervously, praying to Eywa that her mother buys the excuse.

“I see. She could have least told us before going.” Her mother chides, and Awra heaves a sigh of relief. It goes unnoticed by her mother. “You children will be the death of me.”

She tries to ignore the twang of hurt she feels at how easily her sister gets to spend time outside of her duties. She pushes it down, deciding she didn’t have energy to dwell on it at this current moment. She lays down on her mat, curling up on her side. She watches as her mother settles down next to her, hand cradling her belly. A beat of silence passes.

“You look troubled child.” Awra hadn’t noticed her father entering the marui. He sets down his spear by the door, before crouching down on one of the sleeping mats. “Care to speak your mind?”

He stares at her expectantly, eyes warm. Awra feels strangely vulnerable, fiddling with her fingers as she stares up at the ceiling. “Not really.” She whispers.

“And why is that?” Her father questions. Her mother is sprawled quietly on the mat next to her father, placing a hand on his thigh.

“Just–nothing to talk about I guess.” She lies, picking at her nailbeds.

“It is not good to keep things to oneself.” Her father says, voice deep. Awra shrinks even more at that, cheek smushed into the sleeping mat.

“I know–”

“And yet you choose to do it.” His reply is laced with mirth, and she huffs indignantly.

“Yeah well, I just–” Awra trails off, not quite knowing the next words to say. Tell them about Neteyam? That’d mean certain death. Kiri and Tuk?

“Awra–”

“It’s about Kiri.” She rasps, finally meeting her parents’ gaze. “And Tuk.”

“What about them child? Are they troubling you during lessons?” Her father asks. “Last I recall, it’s your sister who’s been training them whilst you’ve been unwell.” At that, her father glances towards the entrance of the marui where Tsireya was surely out with Lo’ak. While I’m stuck here.

“They’ve been distant. And I don’t know why.” Another lie. She knew exactly why, she just couldn’t bring herself to face it.

Her father hums thoughtfully. “Have you tried asking them why?”

Awra shakes her head. A few stray braids fall against her cheek, and she sighs wearily. Her mother frowns, shooting her father a concerned look. Her father’s gaze softens, eyeing his daughter’s small form, curled up on the sleeping mats.

“Maybe you should take a break from your duties tomorrow.” Awra’s head shoots up from where she’d been resting it on her knees, an incredulous expression on her face. Had she heard that right?

Her father chuckles, shaking his head good naturedly. “Yes, yes. Take a break tomorrow, and sort out whatever it is going on with the Tuk and Kiri.” She gapes at her father, before her mother narrows her eyes at her.

“Don’t think this means you can skip on your chores forever, ma’ ite.” Her mother adds sternly, much to Awra’s chagrin. “We noticed you’ve been…distant and sickly. If these matters plague you, we simply wish for you to tackle them so you may feel better. Your rites are approaching, and we want you to be healthy and ready when the time comes.”

Awra nods, a little too excitedly. She smiles, excited at the prospect of a day of freedom and rest. “Thank you mother, thank you father. I will spend my day wisely.” She replies, canines poking out. Her father nods, a rare gentle smile on his face.

“And take a break from weaving.” He adds, a small chuckle rumbling. “We have enough baskets to last the hunting party ten eclipses.” Awra giggles at that, nodding. Her mother smiles at that, staring pointedly at the heaps of seagrass baskets stacked in a corner of their marui.

“Off to bed now.” Her mother orders, gesturing towards the sleeping mats on the floor. “Your father and I have clan matters to attend to at sunrise tomorrow, so make sure you prepare your meals and keep the marui clean.” Awra nods, biting her lip to stop her excited grin from peeking out. It was going to be a great day.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam angst #neteyam imagine #neteyam avatar #atwow #avatar the movie #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar

6 notes · View notes

cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 10

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

When she wakes up, it’s with an unpleasant jolt. She’s breathing heavily, and her body burns with exhaustion. For a moment, memories of Te’lau come rushing back, and she whimpers in fear. Her eyes squeeze shut and an influx of images of her pressed into the dirt, choking, screaming for help come flooding back like a tidal wave. A horrible mix of shame and terror brews in her stomach, and bile rises in her throat. She leans over, throwing up violently on the floor next to her. She heaves painfully, the smell of vomit is acrid in the air. When she’s done, she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand, before falling back down into a fetal position; tired out.

She feels a stray tear drip down the side of her face, pooling in her ear before dripping onto the floor. She tries her best to stop the tears from coming, pinching her lips shut as she tries to steady her breathing. In, hold and out. In, hold and out. She chants this mantra in her head, focusing on clenching and unclenching her fists clenching where they lay at her side. Her body is in excruciating pain – an acute soreness that is present all over her torso; particularly around her neck and chest. She winces when her breathing exacerbates the ache, gingerly placing a shaky hand on her chest to calm herself down.

A shout sounds out in the distance. She cracks open her eyes, taking in her surroundings for the first time. She’s in a marui, that much is obvious from the webbed ceiling made of seagrass and pelts; to the fireplace and soft seagrass bedding. It’s familiar, but not. She doesn’t recognise the scent of the marui – it’s a lot more bitter, sharp and tangy like salt. The belongings strewn around don’t look like her parents’ either, so she must be–

Her heart sinks into her stomach at the realisation that she must be in Te’lau’s marui. She feels her stomach turn, and she fights the urge to vomit again. “Eywa–” She heaves, panic already making her hair stand on edge as she struggles to her feet. Her back stings terribly at her movement, and her sore joints protest. But she desperately scrambles onto her hands and knees, before using the lip of the marui’s entrance as purchase to hoist her body up. Her legs feel heavy, almost like they’d fallen asleep; making walking difficult. Yet, she persists, tumbling out of the marui and limping in the direction of home.

Outside the marui, it’s village life as usual. Metkayina villagers traipse past with baskets full of fish and other pickings of the day, no doubt fresh off the morning’s hunt. A hunt that she’d missed because Te’lau had–

She shakes her head, trying to rid it of the traumatising flashbacks. She shudders in fear, shambling towards the Tak’hu. She hoped and prayed to Eywa that Te’lau wouldn’t be there with his family, but in her pain, Awra was just desperate to find her parents. She grunted in exertion, the bite wound on her neck stinging ferociously. She whimpered at the feeling, having forgotten all about it. She felt her eyes water at the thought of him biting her, violating her in such a vile manner. Awra clasps a hand over the wound, shielding it from sight. She hobbles faster towards the marui, reaching the lip before her knees collapse.

She lets herself fall, crumbling into a heap just outside the Tak’hu. She could hear voices inside, ears straining for Te’lau’s voice. She can feel her heart pounding excruciatingly in her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible to hide from danger where she lay on the netting. A few minutes pass, and a male voice appears right at the entrance of the marui. It’s a lot deeper than Te’lau’s, and has a strange accent. Jake Sully.

“What was the one thing I asked? The one thing!” Jake’s voice radiated frustration, and she cowered instinctually.

“Stay out of trouble.” Lo’ak, she registers. It’s followed by another male voice, “It was my fault–”

She swallows. Neteyam. It was Neteyam’s voice. At the sound, she can feel herself whine; reaching out for him where he stood just out of reach. At a time like this, the timbre of his voice was soothing – a comfort from the terror she’d experienced in the last 24 hours. “‘Teyam–” she whines, eyes squeezing in agony. Her hand comes away from her neck wet with blood, tinged with yellow pus. She retches at the smell, bile rising in her throat again.

“Yeah I don’t think so.” Jake answers sternly. She listens in, biting her lip to stop herself from making noise. “You gotta stop taking the heat for this knucklehead.” There’s silence for a bit, before Jake barks out a, “Dismissed”. She hears someone dart out of the marui, and she reaches a limp hand out to call for help, but her throat is sore and nothing comes out. She frowns in frustration, trying to pull herself up to call for help.

The sound of Jake’s voice interrupts her efforts. “What’d the other guys look like?” A beat of silence.

“Worse,” comes Neteyam’s reply. “Much worse.” She can almost hear the smugness in his voice, and if not for her predicament, she would have smiled too. But all she could manage was a grunt as she tried to pick herself off the netting again.

She feels the netting bounce abruptly, shaking her back into a crouch. She panics, whipping around to face the person who’d just exited the marui. She feels her ears press flat against her skull in fear, ready to bare her teeth, when she’s met with alarmed golden eyes.

“Awra?” Neteyam scrambles to his knees, reaching for her as she leans in his touch. She whimpers, grabbing onto his arms as she tries to drag herself closer to him. He pulls her into his lap, cradling her head delicately in one arm. “Awra? Awra! What happened?” He asks, voice shrill with panic.

She feels relieved, melting into his warmth as he holds her. She feels her eyes flutter, opening her mouth to reply but no words come out. Her throat burns, and her lips are cracked and bitten. The wound on her neck is raw, and smearing blood over Neteyam’s arm.

“Is this blood– what happened Awra? Hey!” He’s panicking now, amber eyes wide with fear and confusion. He’s shaking her, trying to coax a response out of her but to no avail. Awra just moans in discomfort, sweat beading at her hairline. Exhaustion weighs down her limbs, and she allows her eyes to slide shut. So tired, just want to take a nap, she thinks. She can feel him shaking her, but she can’t seem to force her eyes to open. Everything hurts, hurts so bad ‘teyam.

Neteyam shakes her again, stroking her cheek frantically in an attempt to keep her from closing her eyes. “Awra! Hey! Stay awake, please. You have to stay awake for me.” He pleads, placing a hand over the wound on her neck to stop the bleeding. His hand comes away crimson, the blood sticky where it pools in the divots of his palm. He grimaces, bracing a hand on the back of her knee and hauls her into his arms. He stands, bouncing on the netting and clambers ungracefully back into the marui.

“Dad! Sir! Sir!” Awra can hear muffled shouting, and swaying like she’s being carried. It reminds her of the way she used to be swaddled as a baby – her father carrying her in his arms as he toddled around the marui doing chores or attending to his hunters. It was a comforting sensation, and for a moment, she felt at peace. Her limbs no longer hurt, and her neck didn’t sting anymore. She felt like she was floating.

Jake rushes up to the entrance of the marui, eyebrows knitting together at the sight of his son holding the Olo’ eyktan’s daughter. “Neteyam? What’s going on?” He demands, already helping Neteyam lay Awra down on the floor. Awra can hear them conversing, bits and pieces of the conversation as she drifts in and out of consciousness. She can make out the panic and worry in Neteyam’s voice, and the confusion in Jake’s. She feels hands adjusting her more comfortably, and her eyelids flutter.

She can hear Jake calling for someone, and then the marui is bustling with commotion. There’s a strong stench of herbs, and she barely registers her mother’s voice. She tries to open her eyes, but her eyelids feel heavy, and her head lolls to the side. There are hands pulling and tugging on her torso, and she furrows her eyebrows in discomfort. Awra can barely understand what’s happening around her, sleepiness tugging on the edges of her consciousness.

The last thing she hears before falling asleep is her name being called.

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When she wakes up again, she’s comfortable. Her body is warm, like there’s something large draped over her. She purrs in the back of her throat, snuggling deeper into the warmth surrounding her.

The mass on her body shifts, grunting. “Neteyam?” She rasps out, voice hoarse. She winces at the sound of her own voice – foreign and croaky.

The Ometicayan boy shoots up, relief flooding his delicate features. “Awra!” His arm is curled protectively around her midsection, and he must have fallen asleep waiting for her to gain consciousness. His eyes are still sleepy, and his voice is also raspy with misuse. “You’re awake. Thank Eywa.” He whispers, eyes boring into hers.

She smiles, hand coming up to cup his cheek. He’s smiling down at her, braids falling over his shoulders where he’s leaning over her form. “I’m awake.” She rasps, thumb sliding over his cheek.

He exhales, his breath coming out shuddery. “Are you feeling okay?” He hushes out, face contorting in worry. “I saw you–there was so much blood.” He mutters, hand coming to rest over hers on his cheek.

She winces at this words, a stiff smile on her lips. She nodded slowly, forcing out a: “I’m fine ‘teyam.” Neteyam doesn’t look convinced at her words, eyebrows dipping even more with worry. She chuckles airily, cautious of the burn in her throat. She swipes at the space between his eyebrows, pressing down on the folds of skin where they creased in his concern. “Who’s going to get wrinkles now, skawng?” She teases but her voice is devoid of its usual playfulness. Instead she sounds tired and wary.

Neteyam doesn’t answer. He reaches for a small bowl of water, and brings it to her lips. “Here you, drink.” She sips at the water slowly, letting it wet her tongue. She smiles gratefully, swiping away the excess water droplets on her lips. He puts the bowl down, and shifts next to her. It’s silent, but the way he’s fidgeting tells her he’s trying to work up the courage to talk.

“What is it ‘teyam?” She asks softly. He perks up at that, tail swishing side to side on the floor behind him.

“What happened?” Comes his questioning reply, eyes boring into hers. “I was worried…so worried Awra.” He reaches for her hand, sliding their palms together. As he does so, he shoots a quick glance at the entrance of the marui they’re in. She realises belatedly they’re in the Sully marui, and she blinks in confusion.

“I’m in your marui? Where–my parents? I heard them just now. Before I passed out.” She stumbles, eyeing the marui entrance wearily.

He strokes comfortingly over her hand. “They’re away for now, clan business. My parents went too, so we have some time alone.” He says, smiling. She returns the smile, squeezing his hand just a little in appreciation. “They’ll be back to check on you in a bit, so I should go soon. I stayed because I–”

“You were worried. I know ‘teyam.” She finishes his sentence for him, a tiny chuckle rumbling in her chest. He smiles bashfully and dips his head. “You don’t have to worry though. I am fine.” She adds, using her free hand to gesture at herself.

The smile on his face dampens, and his eyebrows furrow again. “Awra–”

“Shush. I am fine. I just need to rest.” Liar.

He doesn’t look convinced, just holds her hand as a comfortable silence envelops them. She hears his lips part, and she turns her head to look at him. Hesitation is written all over his features.

“Who bit you?” His voice shakes with the question, and he swallows as he lets his eyes graze past the wound on her neck. Awra blinks, hand coming up to cover the wound from sight instinctively. He lets go of her hand, reaching over to stop her from clamping a hand over her neck. “Awra, please.”

Awra swallows, shaking her head. “It’s nothing.” His eyebrows dip even further, his tail thumping on the ground. Liar, Awra. You’re a liar. Not just a whore, but a liar too.

Her eyes squeeze shut at the memory of that word, the way Te’lau had spat it at her when he–

“Nothing, it’s nothing. I promise.” She inhales, breath shuddery and broken. She looks into his eyes – filled with so much warmth and concern, and it breaks her heart. She could never let him know what happened – he’d never forgive himself for letting her walk to the village alone. She also feared the repercussions with Te’lau; he could out her secret relationship with Neteyam, and then what? She would have to live a life disgraced? Disowned? She’d be known as the girl who brought shame and dishonour upon her family. She’d never be able to look her father in the eyes again.

“Awra, please. It’s not nothing.” He pleads, lifting her hand to get a look at the bite mark. “Baby please, just tell me what happened.” His heart breaks at the sight of four puncture wounds, deep enough to reveal the blue of her flesh under the skin. The area is inflamed and raw – long scratch marks surrounding the bite wound that are crusted with blood. It looked like someone had bit her hard, sunk their fangs in until she’d been unable to move. He knew she’d fought back, the scratch marks were evidence she had tried to shield herself from her perpetrator. The thought makes him sick with disgust and anger, and sends his stomach coiling in pain for her.

Awra sees his face contort in pity, and wrenches free of his grasp. Clamping a firm hand down on the bite mark, she wrestles herself to her feet, whimpering in pain. “Neteyam, please. Just forget it okay? It was nothing.” He persists, grabbing her free hand to stop her from leaving. “I just got into a fight with another Na’vi, and they bit me. It was an accident.” She lies, already feeling self-pity flood her throat. Liar, you’re a liar. Protecting Te’lau because you’re a whore. A whore who got what’s coming to her.

She whimpers – in pain, in fear in hate. Hate for herself, for Te’lau and for her family. “Neteyam!” She pleads, yanking her arm away. She bares her teeth at him when he doesn’t release his grip, and his face crumples with hurt. It shatters her heart. “‘Teyam–”

His grip slips, and she manages to get her hand free. “Awra–” He scrambles to his feet, reaching for her as she makes a break for the doorway. A hand still covering her neck, she slips from the marui and sprints towards her marui. She can feel him chasing after her, and she turns around to see him weaving through the village in pursuit.

“Awra!” He shouts. “Awra stop!” She faces away and bites her cheek, dodging village folk left and right. His footsteps are gaining on her, thundering behind her as she runs. At this point, people are giving them weird looks, stopping to wonder why the strange Ometicayan boy is chasing after the Olo’ eyktan’s daughter. Murmurs rise in a few hunters when she dashes past, but she doesn’t stop to acknowledge them.

“Stop following me Neteyam!” She hollers back, turning back to look at him. “Stop–”

She collides with someone, and it sends her sprawling into the ground. The impact leaves her seeing stars for a second, before she blinks and–it’s Te’lau. He’s standing there rubbing his chest where she’d bumped into him, squinting down at her before realisation crosses his features. Then, he’s sneering knowingly, taking in the hand she’s got covering her neck and her panicked expression.

“Oh? Out so soon?” He starts, crouching down to eye level. She scoots away, baring her teeth. He just smirks, taking another step closer to her. “I really thought you’d be down for longer…after what happened. Guess you’re a lot tougher than I thought.”

He’s so close she can feel his breath breeze over her face, and she has to stop herself from gagging. “Leave me alone, Te’lau. Leave me–”

He snarls at her lowly, and her jaw snaps shut in terror. The sound of his hiss sends chills crawling up her spine, and almost immediately, the wound on her neck starts to sting and ache. She whimpers, tail curling around herself in protection.

“No matter, girl.” He spits, that horrible sneer on his face again. “A tough girl like you can take more, don’t you think? All the more for me to–.”

Her breath catches in her throat, humiliation gripping her chest in a vice at his words. All she can is his rough hands strangling her, cutting off her air supply. Him pressing her into the ground, viciously clawing and scratching at her skin. Her blood, pouring down her shoulder as he–

And then, a dark blue arm comes into view, pushing hard at Te’lau’s right shoulder and sending him tipping onto his behind. He growls, and the sound is met with another growl. Awra stops breathing. Neteyam. She’d forgotten he was behind her, running after her through the village. God, he can’t be here. Te’lau will know it’s him, he’ll tell–

She can feel herself start to panic again, chest becoming stuffy. Neteyam is completely unaware, standing next to her, shoulders squared in a protective stance. “Back off.” He says lowly, pointing a finger in Te’lau’s direction. “Now.”

Te’lau tilts his head, staring up at Neteyam where’s crouching on the ground. His expression is stony, eyes wide as he stares the other male down. He looks like he’s thinking, and then a knowing smirk comes over his features. He sneers at Awra, licking his lips as his expression morphs into something predatory. She instinctively backs away from him, and Neteyam steps in front of her to shield her from his gaze.

“I see.” Is all Te’lau says, clicking his tongue as he smiles sickly sweet at her. “I see.” He repeats the phrase with a look of understanding, gaze trailing up to fix on Neteyam’s stoic one.

Neteyam’s growl rumbles in his chest, and she can’t help the little tumble her heart does at the sound. He’s being protective, she thinks, and curses the way her stomach flutters as the way he’s putting himself between her and Te’lau. “I said back. Off. You won’t like it when I repeat myself.” He warns, eyes boring holes into Te’lau’s forehead.

Te’lau just snickers condescendingly, lips turned upwards in a devilish smirk. He says nothing, just raises his palms in a mock surrender as he gets to his feet. Neteyam takes another step forward, but Te’lau just sneers and steps away slowly.

“Smart choice.” Is all Neteyam says in return, staring the Metkayina boy down until he walks away. Only when he disappears from sight does Neteyam finally let his guard down, imaginary hackles lowering as his stance relaxes. His shoulders slump, and he sighs to alleviate the tension in his body. He spins on his heel, extending a hand and pulling Awra to her feet.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” He asks, worry clouding his handsome features. He gives her a once–over, checking for more scratches from her fall. “Who is he?” Neteyam asks, still scanning Awra for hurt.

When she doesn’t answer, he looks at her face, seeing tear tracks on her cheeks. He stops, eyes widening. “Awra? Why’re you crying?” He asks gently, a hand coming to rest on her back. She doesn’t answer, shrinking into herself. Awra can’t bring herself to make eye contact. There’s shame burning in her every vein, but also fear; raw, concentrated terror at her encounter with Te’lau. She feels a sob come on, and she gnaws at her bottom lip to stop it. Neteyam is bending down, cupping her cheeks; urging her to look at him.

“Awra, my darling.” He soothes, shushing her. “What’s happening? Talk to me, my darling.” She shakes her head, pushing away from his grasp fervently. His ears droop, hands resting firmly on her shoulders. “Awra.” And he pulls her firmly into his embrace, bracing her head against his chest.

She struggles against his grip, much to his dismay. She wrenches free of the hug, wiping at her cheeks hastily as she clears her throat. She spares a glance at his face, and her heart breaks at his pained expression; eyebrows pinched and mouth parted in confusion. I’m sorry.

“Awra?” Comes his hurt whisper. She feels her eyes water and takes in a shuddery breath.

“I can’t do this, Neteyam. Not here, not–,” she chokes on her exhale, and a tear slides down her cheek. She wraps her arms around herself protectively, cheeks burning in shame. She feels like the village folk are staring, and her ears twitch at the sound of confused murmuring all around her. Panic rises in her chest, and she looks up at the Ometicayan boy again, eyes brimming with tears. “I have to go. Please let me go. My mother, she’ll,” she chokes on a sob, “she’ll–they’ll get mad if they see me here.” She feels incredibly naked standing in the middle of the village, Netetam staring at her.

“Awra, please–” He tries, distress lacing his voice.

“I’m going to go. Thank you–thanks for standing up for me. I appreciate it.” She collects herself and hushes out a reply. Arms still wrapped tightly around herself, she makes for the direction of her family’s marui, willing herself not to glance backwards at the Ometicayan boy. She bites her lip in aguish, tears clouding her vision. Humiliation, fear and panic floods her veins like a dam, and her heart clenches painfully in her chest. All she can think about is Neteyam’s brokenhearted expression when she’d turned away his affection. The way his golden eyes had crumpled in desolation while his hands twitched by his side. His touch was burning on her skin – on her forearms, stomach and shoulders. And then there was Te’lau.

The thought of the Metkayina boy’s name sends nausea rolling in her gut. On cue, the bite mark on her neck starts to ache in the worst way, and she whimpers in pain and grabs at the wound as she runs. Her other arm is still curled around her own midsection, tail wrapped around her thigh as she darts through the buzz of village life. He’s blackmailing me, she thinks, eyes watering. The realisation makes her stomach sink to her feet, and the self-loathing that coils in her belly is unexpected and takes her by surprise.

You brought this upon yourself, she thinks. She wipes at her eyes aggressively. You brought this upon yourself. This is all your fault. Mother told you not to mess around with the Ometicayans, and what did you do? You ignored her. You CHOSE to ignore her. And now, you reap what you sow. Stupid, stupid Awra.

She collapses in her marui, her breath knocked out of her as she falls. She can’t feel the pain when she lands on the floor, limbs feeling cold and numb. She curls up, finally allowing herself to cry. The sobs leave her body in painful spasms, fraught with anguish. She claws at her neck and face, feeling disgusted at herself for allowing this to happen. Your fault, she chides herself, all your fault. You deserve this. All of this. She cries until her throat is raw, and her eyes are tender to the touch. All she can think about is Te’lau’s sneer, his sharp canines glinting in the light. She shudders, eyes rolling back. The pain is all-consuming, and her body aches with tension.

For the first time in her young life, Awra realises she’s afraid. Deathly afraid of what tomorrow might bring. She felt paralysed, laying on the floor of her family home – limbs cold and frozen where she’s curled up into a fetal position. Her breath coming out in choppy pants as she blinks away the residual tears, the droplets sliding down her cheeks and pooling in the divots of her neck. She’s not cried like this since she was a baby. When all the tears were cried, and no more came when she tried, she laid there on the floor – numb. And nothing crossed her mind but the realisation that she had no idea how to fix her problem this time. So she just let herself lay there, still, till morning.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam angst #neteyam avatar #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #atwow #avatar the movie #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 9

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

When they return to the village that evening, they do so seperately. Cleaning up had been punctuated by giggling and feathery touches, and when Awra finally parted ways with Neteyam to head back, she’d done so with a peck on his cheek. He had smiled bashfully, eyes darting down at the ground as if they’d not just seen each other naked.

“I’ll see you later, Awra.” He’d whispered, pressing a kiss on the back of her hand as she turned to walk away. Awra felt her heart flutter at the feeling of his lips across her knuckles, biting her lip to suppress the silly smile tugging stubbornly at her features. She bade him farewell, and started her lighthearted trek back to her family’s marui. It was necessary to return one after another – to avoid suspicion within the village. She was sure her parents had eyes and ears everywhere, so she wanted to make sure she kept her little secret with Neteyam a secret for just a while longer.

The walk was short, but gave her time to ponder. Time flew by when was with the oldest Ometicayan boy for sure, but even time well spent couldn’t distract her from the looming doom that was her coming of age ceremony. She sighed, kicking away twigs and branches in the dirt as she trudged. She’d tried valiantly to push the morning’s events with her parents to the recesses of her mind, but it proved futile. Her Iknimaya was upon her, and her parents were obviously insistent on their decision on mating with Te’lau.

She shuddered at the thought of Te’lau’s hands running up her body, or his kisses on her skin. It just wouldn’t feel right. Not after knowing how Neteyam kisses, that’s for sure, she thinks to herself. She snorts at herself, rubbing her hands up and down her arms for warmth. The path back is secluded, and shrouded in vegetation. It’s also chilly, and every tickle of the wind sends goosepimples rising across her arms and legs. Shivering, she squeezes her arms around herself, picking up her pace as she sees the village in the distance.

Sure, Te’lau seemed like a nice guy – he was hardworking, a great hunter and smart. He would make a great Olo’ eyktan for her people. But she didn’t want Te’au. Didn’t know him at all or see him romantically – never did and probably never will. How her parents had come to the decison that they’d be compatible potential mates eluded her. “None of this makes sense.” She grumbles under her breath. Sometimes, this entire situation made her feel like a commodity – an object of value meant to be traded for use and leverage. The thought reminds her of her fainting spell earlier that day, and makes her skin crawl with disgust. She sighs again, deeper and more longing. She really really liked Neteyam.

“To be fair he’d made a perfect Olo’ eyktan too. He was set out to be one if not for moving here anyway.” She gripes to herself, voice echoing out in the emptyness around her. She’s nearing the village now, and she can feel her stomach turn with worry at the prospect of having to explain her extended absence to her parents. I could tell them I went out exploring and fell asleep? Yeah, kinda stupid but believable I guess. Or that I got lost? No, that’s definitely stu–

“Awra? Hey!” A voice rings out to her left, startling her. She gasps, eyes widening and straining to adjust in the darkness.

As she peers into the shadows near the outskirts of the village, a male sillouhettle appears slowly. He’s obviously Metkayina from the shape of his tail, and he towered over her easily. She furrows her eyebrows, taking a step back from the man. As he steps further out into the path, the moon illuminates his features and her breath hitches unpleasantly.

“Te’lau? What’re you doing here?” She asks. She swallows nervously. Speak of the devil, she thinks queasily.

Te’lau just grins, a wide toothy smile. He strides up to Awra, extending a large hand in front of himself. She hesitates, but grabs it. He picks up her hand, and leaves a kiss on her fingers. She has to physically stop herself from recoiling at the action, not wanting to be rude. She forces a smile, nodding in acknowledgment as he smiles down at her.

“I visited your mother today, to offer my courtship to you. Our parents have great plans for our union after your Iknimaya.” He answers, voice loud. She winces, a twinge of betrayal making itself known in her chest. So this was all premeditated after all. She gently wrestles free of his grip, much to his dismay. His smile drops slightly, but he doesn’t say anything. She clutches her hands protectively to her chest, voice small.

“What?”

His smile widens. “Surely they must have told you of this! Olo’ eyktan and Tsahik visited my family an eclipse agp to propose a union between our families. You and I are to be mates.” He exclaims, spittle flying out of his mouth as he does so. She jerks back on instinct. He steps forward, smile still on his face. It’s unnerving how wide his cheeks split when he smiles, sharp canines on full display. Unlike the warmth she feels when Neteyam smiles, Te’lau’s smile feels manufactured and forced; and makes her uncomfortable. “You are to be my Tsahik, and I am to be future Olo’ eyktan.”

Something about the way he says ‘future Olo’ eyktan’ makes Awra sick to her gut, and her head swims with disgust and fear. His posture makes her feel small, the way he looms over her has her licking over her canines to suppress the urge to submit. The square of his shoulders blocks off her path, and she stares longingly at the village behind him. He’s staring intently at her, gaze lowering from her face to her neck and lingering at her collarbones. His eyebrow twitches, and for a second she’s about to lash out about his staring, when his eyes widen in realisation.

“You were with someone.” He states flatly, pointing a finger at the base of her neck. All of a sudden, she can’t breathe again. Panic blooms hot and heavy in her chest, like a scaldingly hot piece of metal twisting around her neck.

“Wha–” She stutters, breath coming out in uneven bursts. She wraps her arms protectively around herself, stepping away from Te’lau as he grows more agitated.

“You were with someone!” He roars, baring his teeth at her. She whimpers, dropping to her knees as she shields her face from him. “Who! Who was it.” He barks at her, snarling as she cowers desperately.

“Wasn’t–I wasn’t–” She tries, voice breaking in pure panic. Her breaths are choppy, and she can feel the beginnings of tears forming. Why is this happening, why is this happening, she chants in her mind. Eywa help me please.

He’s furious now, pointing at her accusatorily as she shies away from his finger. “Please stop. Please–” She begs, covering her neck as she shivers in fear. Te’lau is leaning over her, grabbing at her hands and trying to forcefully pry them away from her neck.

“Let me see, let me see!” He shrieks, voice shrill with anger. Her head starts to feel fuzzy again, chest tightening as she starts to feel like she’s suffocating again. She gulps air desperately, trying to fill her lungs but to no avail. He’s scratching at her, clawing at the delicate skin of her neck and collarbone in an attempt to see the mark left behind. She can feel herself crying, body thrumming with tension as her hands are yanked away. Her elbows scream in protest, hands burning where they are crushed between his larger palm.

“Please, let me go please,” she begs, voice hoarse as she chokes on her own breath. “You’re hurting me please.” She absolutely hates how pathetic she sounds, begging and pleading for him to release his hold on her. She’s kicking now, trying to squirm out his grip. He doubles down, face livid as he uses his elbow to press her neck down onto the ground while keeping her hands above her head, pinned by her wrists. She screams in fear, voice raspy from the pressure. He’s choking me, I can’t breathe. Her head swims from the lack of air, and he twists her head to the side violently. Her eyes squeeze shut in fear, chest heaving in exertion.

“I knew it.” He whispers, and she stops for a moment. “I knew it.” He bellows, turning to face her. Her eyes are wide with fear, and when she meets his, her heart stops. He’s wild with unbridled rage – filling his eyes with a wildness she’d only seen in hunters mid-hunt. He snarls at her, and presses down on the spot between her collarbone and neck. A threat. Submit or fight. Her body goes limp against her will, and she cries in terror as her body goes numb. She can feel herself shaking in both pain and fear, biting her lip until it bleeds to stifle her cries as he growls at the mark on her neck.

“Whore.” He spits, and she whimpers, feeling blood pooling on her lip where her canine had nicked it. “Who’re you fucking around with, huh?” He sneers at her, sharp canines coming dangerously close to her neck. She can’t breathe, but her body doesn’t respond and she simply lays there limply. Awra can hear his heavy breathing next to her ear, the unpleasant feeling making her heart race as more tears leak from her eyes in desperation.

“Your parents promised me the perfect mate.” He growls in her ear, making her freeze in fear. His tone is condescending and sarcastic, and sends an icy chill up her spine. He drags his teeth across her ear, and her snap open in panic.

“St–stop” She begs, flinching away from the sensation. It sends nausea coiling in her stomach, and she heaves at the feeling. He growls again, the sound deep and guttural. She whimpers submissively in response, curling into herself for protection.

“Shut up.” He grits out. “Fucking whore. What would your parents think of their precious little girl sleeping around with un-mated men huh?” She chokes out a sob at that, tail curling around her thigh in fear.

“Please–please. Let me go, please.” She sobs, shaking in his grip. He chuckles darkly, hold getting tighter as she grunts out her pain. She was going to have a difficult time explaining the bruises. She feels faint, eyelids fluttering as she starts to feel her heartbeat pound in her ears. Am I dying?

Then, she feels canines graze against the junction between her collarbone and neck. It ignites a panic so deep it gives her a burst of strength despite her predicament, and she struggles viciously against Te’lau. She kicks and screams until her throat burns, pushing and clawing at him until her hands hurt. He fights back, hissing at her as he braces all his weight on her body, forcing her down against the damp earth. Her right cheek is pressed into the damp soil, the smell musty and earthy. She’s drained of all her energy, and he smirks when he feels her stop struggling, body slumping into the earth beneath them. He’s a coward, she thinks spitefully, cornering her when she was defenseless. Alone.

“This is going to hurt. But I’m going to enjoy it.” He snarls into her ear before she feels him bite down. The pain is searing, she feels her body shudder. It makes her body submit against her will, and she melts into the earth, letting darkness consume her. The last thing she hears is his condescending sneering, “You’re mine now.”

#neteyam avatar #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #atwow #neteyam angst #neteyam imagine #neteyam fanfiction

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 8

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

When she rouses again, she thinks she’s still dreaming. The air is warm, and she feels lethargic; like her bones were weighed down with a thousand stones. When she moves her head, her neck protests, a sharp pain on the side of her neck richochets down her chest and back. It’s agony when she tries to sit up, and she hisses in pain. As she does, she hears gentle footsteps clatter towards her. Warm hands find themselves on her shoulders, and a familiar face comes into view.

“Mother?” She asks, and realises how hoarse her voice sounds. “What happened? Where am I?”

Her mother shushes her, sliding a hand under her head to support it as she helps Awra to sit up. Awra feels her back protest, a soreness down her back that makes her wince. “Ouch.” She mutters, hand coming up to massage at her neck, fingers kneading into the muscle for some relief. Her mother gently pries her fingers away, and Awra groans from the pain.

“You fainted,” her mother answers, voice clouded with worry. “And you took a great fall.” She reaches for a salve on the nearby table, stirring the mixture with her fingers before slathering it over Awra’s neck and back. The salve is balmy and viscous, providing a cooling sensation which helps with the pain. Awra lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

I fell? I don’t remember– And then it comes back to her. All at once, her head flashes with hurt – memories from earlier today flooding back. The panic, fear and suffocation. Her head pounds, and she groans as her eyelids flutter.

“My beloved? You need to rest.” Her mother hurriedly places the bowl of salve down, the bowl clattering noisily against the wooden table. She feels hands on her shoulders, urging her to lie down again. “I was hoping to let the salve dry, but it’s better if you lie down and get more rest.” Awra hums in agreement, bile rising in her throat as her head throbs. She hadn’t felt this sick since she was a child – she really wasn’t looking forward to the vile medicines she’d surely have to take.

As she settles herself against the pile of bedding, her vision clears up. Lying down helped with the headaches and nausea, and she finally notices she’s in one of the many healer maruis. They are smaller than the average marui – fully stocked with medicines and other mixtures of her mother’s concoction. These marui are meant for healing, meaning the Metkayina visit them only when injured or ill. She hadn’t been in here since she was a child, and she lets out a huge breath, taking in her surroundings.

The marui is dark, with little windows letting light in. She’s thankful for that, because the light would surely hurt her eyes and make her headache worse. It smells medicinal, with a woodsy undertone from the tools the younger healers would use to pound herbs for medicines. She turns slowly, wary of the twinge in her neck. There’s a small wooden table, where her mother is currently busying herself pouring and mixing. Ugh, she groans, medicines. Her stomach churns at the thought, groaning in protest.

“I can hear your thoughts from here, my beloved.” Her mother says, mirth in her voice. “Don’t think you can squirm out of your medicine this time.” Awra snorts, typical of her mother to read her mind at all the wrong times.

“I know.” She lets out a low chuckle, throat raspy and dry. “Could I get a drink of water too?” She asks, rubbing her throat tenderly. Her mother nods, slipping out of the marui with promise of a drink. She relishes in the silence, shutting her eyes as she exhales. With her mother out of the marui, she could finally let her mind wander to this morning. What exactly had happened? She was still confused about what happened. She had been talking to her parents about Iknimaya when they brought up Te’lau. Oh. She had started having difficulty breathing when they had mentioned Te’lau, and suddenly she just fainted. She shudders at the memory, the ghost of the feeling of drowning of land still breathing whispers over her throat and in her chest.

Get a grip Awra, get a grip. She places a hand on her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow. Inhale, exhale, just like you teach the Sullys, she thinks. The irony of it all has a small smile tugging at her lips. Look at you now. What would others think of you – crying over your Iknimaya when the Ometicayans were out there fighting a war with the Sky people. The thought has her gulping, an image of a battle-torn Neteyam flashing in her mind. What would he think if he saw me like this. Probably that I’m a weak, frail little girl. She lets out a shuddery exhale.

Her ears twitch as footsteps enter the marui, and a small bowl of water is placed near her mouth. She lifts herself up slowly, bracing on her elbows as she takes a sip of the water. After being unconscious, the water tastes like heaven – refreshing on her parched tastebuds. After, she takes the vial of medicine handed to her, gulping the bitter liquid down hastily. She swallows her saliva to rid her mouth of the taste, feeling her nausea wane slowly and her stomach settle. Her mother is next to her, holding the bowl of water while running a hand down her braids comfortingly.

“Drink slowly, my beloved. You don’t want to choke.” She hums, tucking a braid behind Awra’s ear. Awra nods, swallowing another small mouthful of water before lying down again. The bedding is scrumptiously soft against her back, and she savours the feeling as she blinks up at her mother. “You gave me and your masempu quite the scare this morning.”

Awra forces out a guilty chuckle, swiping at her lips to rid it off the water droplets. “Sorry.” She mumbles.

“Is something happening with you?” Her mother asks, placing a hand on Awra’s forehead. “You’ve been different lately. Is something on your mind?” Awra hates the way her stomach sinks when her mother asks her that – she knows her mother means well; but she’d never divulge how she truly felt. She’d be disappointing her too much, and it would hurt to see her mother disappointed.

She swallows. “I’m fine mother.” Her mother doesn’t react for a moment, just smoothing over her hair gently.

“My beloved, one does not simply faint while feeling fine. Surely you must know I will not believe that.” Her mother chides. Awra cringes, mind racing with excuses.

“Uh–”

“Is she awake?” Thank Eywa. At that moment, her father enters the marui, holding a spear in hand. “Ma’ite, how are you feeling?” He asks, walking over and crouching down next to her mother. Her mother acknowledges his presence with a nod, and he nods in return. They’re achingly formal, and she thinks about her potential mating with Te’lau. Was she destined to a life preceded by an arranged union? Misery, she thinks.

“I’m fine, maseumpu.” She answers, swallowing. “Just a little dizzy, but I should be fine.” He nods satisfied, before turning to her mother with a huff.

“The Sullys are trying out the Tsurak now,” he lets out a disbeliving chortle. “Toruk Makto is keen on mastering it today.” Awra smiles at that, thinking of her favourite Sully. She imagines Neteyam on the back of an ilu, pretty braids falling to frame his face; and that smile. Dazzling and so genuine, it makes her heart ache with want. She tries desperately not to let her mind wander the the previous night’s events, afraid of the lovesick expression she might wear. It would be hard to explain that to her parents.

Her mother stifles a laugh as well, standing up with help from her father. “He is as brave as he is stupid.” She utters in a hushed whisper, bracing a hand on her belly. “But he has a strong heart. That I can see.”

Awra stares on at her parents exchange words, laying on the bedding unmoving. She can feel the salve work wonders on her back and shoulders – the ache already lessening into a dull throb. When she shifts, it no longer sends shocks of pain down her body. She heaves a sigh of relief – she wouldn’t have to spend the day bedridden then; stuck under her parents’ watchful gaze. She was already itching to sneak out, maybe ‘accidentally’ run into the oldest Ometicayan boy. The thought made her smile, and she pursed her lips to stifle it. I’m such a child, she thinks, giggling like a child over a silly crush. Eywa, what would others think.

“Your mother and I are going to tend to the Tsurak, “ her father interrupts suddenly, lightly tapping the base of his spear on the floor, “get some rest then join us for dinner in the evening.” Awra just nods, mind already formulating ways to excuse herself to see the Sullys. Her mother leaves her with a gentle pat on the head, and her father leads them out of the marui and off in the direction of the cove where the Tsurak are tethered.

“Finally.” She heaves, body melting into the bedding. She rolls her shoulder, slowly bringing her body up off the soft pile of animal pelts. She gingerly rubs her neck, still a little sore before giving herself a quick sniff. “I stink.” She groans disgustedly. Hours laying still left her feeling stiff and smelling less than pleasant. A quick shower would do me some good, she grimaces, and a change of clothes too. She realised she’d been wearing the same top for days – a change was definitely in order.

After retrieving a change of top and loin cloth from her family’s marui, Awra sprints towards the small cave hidden at the far end of the village. It’s secluded here – water trickling from up the island formed a small clear pool; wearing down the rocks till it formed an overhang. The cave was her own personal haven, nothing but the sound of dripping water to lull her into relaxation. No one but her sister knew about this cave, it was their secret hideaway when the pressures of life proved to be too much.

She lets herself float in the water, cherishing the rare moments away from the hustle and bustle of village life. The water laps at her braids, gently washing away the dirt and grime in her hair. She undoes her braids slowly, letting her wavy locks dip in the cool water. It feels heavenly against her scalp, and when she rubs her fingers into her hair to clean it, she feels a purr rumble in her chest from the sensation. She scrubs at her arms, then legs, humming quietly to herself. Her humming echoes in the cave, and covers the sound of tentative footsteps approaching.

“Awra?” She barely registers herself scream, the shriek bouncing off the walls as she rushes to cover herself. “Sorry!” Comes the person’s reply, but she doesn’t look up at the person; too flustered and worried about covering her body.

“Sorry Awra, I saw you come in here and I–”

“Neteyam?” She shrieks, confused. She looks up with a flush, to find him standing with a hand over his eyes. The Ometicayan boy is perched ramrod straight at the entrance of the cave, one hand clamped over his eyes while the other is extended towards her. “What–how?” She yells.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry. I just saw you leaving the village, and I followed you here but I had no idea you’d be–I didn’t mean to–” He’s stumbling over himself, a purple flush on his cheeks that is now travelling down his neck. “I wasn’t trying to peep or anything. I–” He takes a deep gulp of air, hand falling to his side. “I was just trying to talk to you.”

Awra has one arm over her breasts, neck-deep in the clear water. She can feel her cheeks warm at being in such close proximity while nude, but a tickle of anticipation flickers from chest to tail. She clears her throat, the sound ringing out in the cave.

“I can leave. I’m so sorry again. Please forgive me.” He says, turning around slowly, still blind. “Lo’ak told me you were coming this way and I just hoped to speak to you about yesterday to see if you were okay. But I’ll go now, sorry–”

“You could join me,” she starts, heat rising to her face. “If you’d like.”

Neteyam freezes where’s standing, tail going stiff at her words. She bites her lip. Awra’s never been this bold before, and even now, she’s not sure where this courage is coming from. She chalks it up to the medicine her mother had gave her earlier – she must be on some sort of bravery streak. The silence stretches on, and slowly morphs into an awkward tension. She’s panicking now, spiralling as Neteyam stands still at the entrance of the cave. She lets her eyes travel up his back, following the natural curve of his spine. She notices the dimples, was it what it was, at the bottom of his spine; right above his tail. His arm quivers where he’s been holding it to his face, desperate not to let himself peep. What a gentleman, she thinks.

He’s still silent. Standing rooted in that one spot. Awra’s heart sinks, and embarrassment grips her. It’s official. She’d ruined their friendship or whatever this was. Her question was completely unacceptable, and had either offended or disgusted the Ometicayan boy. She was going to have to apologise, preferably while dressed, apologise to his parents or–

“Okay.” She freezes. Okay? Did he just say okay? She blinks in trepidation, not believing what she just heard. Her ears swivel, trying to listen out for his response. As if he read her mind, he simple repeats: “Okay.”

“What–”

In one swift motion, Neteyam turns with his hands still on his eyes and removes his loincloth. It’s her turn to flush violet, face dropping to look down at the water immediately. “Neteyam–”

A loud splash, and he’s wading up to her with one hand. She’s still in shock by the time he’s right in front of her, towering over her with a small smile on his lips. She’s a little over 8 feet, and he’s easily 10. “You–I can’t believe you just did that!” She whisper-shouts, smacking him on the chest.

He chuckles. “Can I remove my hand?” Her mouth drops open at his question, and for a second, she thinks he’s trying to tease her. But his expression remains serious, a hint of a smirk on his lips. She mulls over it for a second, biting her lip at the tell-tale warmth that coils in her belly. “Awra?”

“Okay.” She says, she lets her hands fall from her chest and they float beside her. “You can see.” He smiles, and brings his hand away from his eyes. She expects his eyes to drop to her chest and roam across her body, but he stays at eye-level, gazing at her with a soulful expression. She’s suddenly overwhelmed by the pure intimacy of it all – they’re standing chest to chest, naked in a cave far away from the village. Eywa must be testing me.

He tries to act nonchalant, gazing up at the ceiling in an effort not to stare at her. “Do you come here often?” She’s buzzing with nerves, and barely hears his question.

“Huh? What?” She blanches, and he laughs.

“Do you come here alot?” He repeats, looking at her. He’s incredibly close to her now, and if she inched just a bit closer, she’d be able to feel his breath on her lips. That would be nice, she thinks, but inappropriate.

“Yes. Some–sometimes when I need uh, a break from my parents.” She says, stuttering. “It’s my secret spot, only Tsireya and I know about this place.” He smiles at that, eyes turning into half-moons. “And I guess now you do too.”

He chuckles. “I guess you’re right. I promise to keep it a secret.” Awra smiles, resisting the urge to shove him playfully. The water feels warm now, gently lapping against their bodies. Her eyes drop to his chest, eyeing the many dark blue freckles and markings. Each one is unique, and forms a constellation on his chest. Neteyam stifles a laugh.

She looks up, an indignant expression on her face. “What! I was just admiring your skin. It’s so much deeper than ours, it’s interesting.” As she says that, she lifts a tentative hand out of the water, letting it graze across the top of her pectorals. He flinches slightly, but doesn’t pull away. She can feel his chest rising and falling under her finger, and just to tease him, she lightly scrapes her nail across the plane of skin.

“You’re making this very hard, Awra.” Comes his voice. Awra’s eyes widen, and she snaps up to look at him. The expression on his face makes her tail curl and thighs tremble.

Neteyam is staring at her, eyes lidded as he pants. His jaw is locked, and he’s licking over his lips like he’s annoyed. There is audible tension in his breathing, and his body is flexed like he’s restraining himself. The thought sends a wave of heat downwards, and her tail flicks in interest in the water behind her.

“I’m not doing anything–”

“I didn’t want to go too far that night because I wasn’t sure if you were sure of your feelings–for me.” He explains, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want you to regret being with me.”

“Neteyam, I–”

“Awra you’re the daughter of Olo’ eyktan and future Tsahik, I was worried about what this,” he gestures between their bodies, “would mean for you. I didn’t want you to have to carry that burden by yourself. But I see now that I was wrong to be worry for you.”

Awra stays silent, heart brimming with an emotion she can’t quite recognise. He looks away, before locking eyes with her again. This time, he brings his thumb and index finger under her chin, lifting her face up. She’s sure her face is bright purple now, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care anymore.

“I spoke with Lo’ak that night, when you ran off. He saw me sneak out, and uh, forced me to come clean if not he’d tell on me to Dad.” He recounts with a small laugh. Awra smiles. “When I told him about what happened, he gave me some advice; put things into perspective.”

Awra laughs at that, small giggles emerging from her chest at the thought of troublemaking Lo’ak giving his older brother advice about relationships. How the tables have turned. He chuckles too. “I know, who would have thought my baby bro had it in him. But without him, I would not have earned your forgiveness, I don’t think.”

She hums thoughtfully. “And what advice did Lo’ak give you?”

“That I should worry about you, and not for you.” He answers quickly, gazing down at her. She tilts her head, pondering over a reply.

He chuckles. “Yeah, I didn’t understand the difference at first either. But he told me that I should follow my heart. And that things would work themselves out.” As he says this, he places a hand on his chest. “I like you, Awra. And I see that that is all that matters now.”

She feels her heart well with emotion – love, happiness and confusion; a potent mix that sends tears down her cheeks. She’s crying, again, and again he’s there – wiping her tears away with small pearls of laughter. She’s happy, incredibly so. He’s smiling too, and she realises through her weary gaze that she’s so in love with his smile.

“You’re such a cheese, Neteyam, you–” she sniffles, laughing even as the tears fall. He’s shushing her, hands cupping each cheek. “Why didn’t you just say this shit from the beginning. You’re such a huge–”

Their laughter rings out in the cave, echoing through the space. Awra feels good and content, despite the morning’s traumatic events with her parents. She can almost forget about their conversation with the way Neteyam is smiling at her – an adoringly wide grin that splits his cheeks and puts his canines on full display.

“Can I kiss you now?” He asks, voice dropping to the same hushed tone as before. She nods eagerly, surging forward and throwing her arms around his neck. He catches her, lifting her up by the backs of her thighs and wraps her legs around his waist. She’s acutely aware of how naked they are, but his skin feels good against hers and she whines into the kiss. Their lips meet in a flurry of motion, a peck, and then another and another. Her tail flicks in interest behind her.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He gasps, pulling away. He’s panting, licking the saliva off his lips. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

She shudders, chasing after his lips again. “Awra, I need an answer.” He huffs out, voice desperate. “Please.”

“Yes. Yes you dumb forest–” He leans forward, slotting his lips over hers. His tongue prods at her lips, licking into her mouth like he’s dying to taste her. She whimpers, gripping the back of neck as her legs tighten around his middle. He kisses her over and over, tongue curling over her teeth and sucking on her bottom lip. She’s trembling, clawing his collarbones as his kisses turn her knees to jelly.

His hands are spread out on the undersides of her thighs, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin like he’s asking for permission. “Please, Neteyam.” She breaks away to huff out, lips puffy from the abuse. He smirks, before scraping his sharp canines down the slim column of her neck. It’s not enough to break skin, but the sensation sends her back arching towards him. He laves over the area with his tongue, circling over a spot near the juncture between her neck and collarbone and bites down. She keens at that, gasping as he sucks. His hands caress her thighs, moving higher up her thighs inch by inch. She feels her legs spread for him, inviting him to touch her more.

He’s a huge tease for a prude, she thinks, biting her lip. His hands are large and warm, and make her toes curl with need. “Neteyam–” she gasps, desperate. He shushes her, adjusting his hold on her thighs before walking towards the lip of the pool. He sets her down on her back gently, and then he’s hovering over her on his forearms. His body is pressed onto hers tightly, and she wraps her legs around his waist. He groans quietly, licking into her mouth hotly. She shivers, letting her hands trail down his body again, just like last time.

She feels his chest, and then down to his abs which quiver and flex under her touch. “Awra–” he gasps, pulling away for air. She smiles at him, eyes hooded as she palms over his chest and back. Just like that night on the beach, she runs a finger across the strip of skin on his lower belly. “Eywa–” His head drops into the crook of her neck, panting wetly against her skin. The feeling is intoxicating – the control she had over his pleasure made her insides melt and twist.

“Please just, do whatever you want,” he grits out brokenly, “I’m yours, just please–”

Awra smiles, scraping a nail more forcefully against the tender skin of his lower belly and hearing Neteyam’s breath hitch. She lavished in the feeling of his panting, wetting her collarbone with condensation. It’s humid inside the cave, and a thin sheen of sweat is starting to form on their bodies. He shudders against her, pressing tightly to her body. Awra reaches down, holding him firmly in her hand. She huffs out a small giggle, heart pounding with excitement at the feeling of him hard and leaking for her.

“Awra–”, he gasps out frantically, and she melts. She wraps her fingers around the width of him, rubbing a timid finger over the tip. She moans when it comes away hot and damp, clinging to her thumb as she glides down the rest of the shaft. He’s panting heavily, breathy groans as he struggles not to buck his hips. A gentleman at all times, she thinks.

Her soft giggle catches his attention. He lifts his head, and their eyes meet. His large amber orbs, usually bright and inquisitive, are now clouded with lust; and as he leans down to kiss her his hand comes to rest on her side. She hums, gripping him firmly and sliding from base to tip. He breaks away with a harsh pant, face growing taut with pleasure. “S’good,” he slurs, swiping his tongue across his lip, “feels s’good Awra.”

A shy smile tugs at her lips. She leans forward, kissing him while dragging her palm up and down his length. He’s whining softly into her lips, and she smiles into his mouth. She pulls away, and he looks at her with confusion. She pulls her hand off him, spitting into it, before sliding her fingers around his girth once more.

“What–” He’s cut off by her dragging her hand up and down the length of him, flicking her wrist at the tip. The reaction is immediate. His back bows inwards to her, and his eyes roll back into his skull as he groans; deep and throaty. “Eywa–”

“You shouldn’t call upon the Great Mother at times like this.” She teases, still stroking him. He doesn’t answer, but his hips start to buck into her fist. It sends a fresh lick of heat to her core, and she can feel how wet she is under his pelvis.

“Sorr–sorry Awra.” He stutters, eyes still shut with pleasure. “I can’t stop.”

She giggles again, other hand coming up to muffle the sound. He forces his eyes open, taking in her form lying prone beneath him, splayed out under his body. He groans, hips bucking faster – a lewd squish emanating from where he’s thrusting into her hand. The sensation makes her giddy, and makes her core tingle at the thought of him thrusting into her. She shifts her hips, trying to find relief where she throbs desperately. He senses this, hips slowing as he opens his eyes.

“Can I touch you?” He asks, chest still heaving. “Please. I have to touch you.” He added, tone pleading. She nods desperately, sitting up as he leans back on his haunches. He spreads her legs, sliding his palms down the backs of her thighs to where she’s aching for his touch.

“You’re so wet down here.” He breathes in awe, a shaky hand coming to swipe at her slit. She whines, falling back against the ground as her back arches. “So pretty, Awra. You’re so pretty here.” With one hand, he holds her open for him. She feels incredibly vulnerable – all her most secret parts laid out on display for his eyes. And yet, she feels safe. His other hand traces the outline of her pussy, collecting the droplets of moisture. Using his thumb, he rubs over her clit, catching on the nub before releasing it. Awra gasps, legs trying to shut at the stimulation. He forces them open, sliding his thumb further down and pressing. She keens at the pressure, a low sound in her throat. She can feel herself shaking, and she grabs at him, trying to get closer.

“Hold on pretty girl, I want to make you feel good.” He says lowly, voice a raspy timbre. It makes her tingle with want, and she feels herself throb at his words.

“Neteyam, please.” She begs, eyes watering. He smiles, shushing her.

“Have to stretch you first, don’t want to hurt you pretty girl.” He hushes out. “Can I touch you inside?” She nods, a tear slipping out the corner of her eyes as she blinks. He smiles and slowly presses one slim finger inside. It stings, and her eyes water even more. She bites her lip, stifling her sounds of pain.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, brow furrowing with concern. “I can stop–”

Awra shakes her head, holding onto his forearm to keep him in place. “It’s–it’s fine. Keep going.” He nods, turning his attention back to her pussy. He sinks his finger in, swallowing at the way she’s wet and grips at him.

“You’re so tight, pretty girl. Relax for me.” He leans down, kissing her deeply. She exhales, deep and shuddery and tries to focus on him. The way his skin feels against her chest, the way he’s looking at her like she’s the most precious thing in the world, the way he’s panting. She closes her eyes, and he murmurs: “That’s it, Awra.” She feels his finger sink all the way in, and she whimpers. His eyes are glued to where his hand is insider her, licking over his lips.

She revels at how full she feels with just his finger inside her, and as he begins to move it slowly she gasps. “That’s it pretty girl, that’s it.” He encourages, massaging her walls with the tip of his finger. “You’re so soft inside, baby.” He grits out, eyes hazy. She can’t help the wanton sounds she makes, feeling her body open up to him pliantly. He groans at her sounds, hand reaching down to stroke himself. She whimpers, body hot as the pleasure turns her stomach molten.

“Awra, hng! Please–” He tilts his head back, putting his neck on full display as he works himself over her body The sight makes her pussy throb. There’s a damp patch where the tip of his member is laying against his stomach, and her pussy burns with arousal at the sight. He’s so desperate, and it’s all for me, she thinks. She feels her belly grow warm, but his fingers have stilled where they’ve sunk insider her. She growls in frustration, yanking his fingers out. He snaps out of his pleasured daze, hand stilling where its wrapped around him.

“Awra–” He gasps, hands comig to grip her hips. She snarls, lunging forward and grabbing him by his shoulders. He topples backwards, eyes widening in surprise as his back collides with the wet ground behind him. She’s straddling him now, tail alert behind her as she eyes him. He’s panting, neck stretched out on display for her as he licks his lips. He looks beautiful, and she feels herself grow wet at the idea of sinking down on him and just making him take it.

“You’re so submissive, Neteyam.” She pants out, a smirk tugging on her lips. His eyes widen in surprise, lips snapping shut into a thin line. He’s embarrassed, she realises with mirth. He doesn’t retaliate, the grip on her hips loosening ever so slightly. His chest is heaving up and down, and she grinds down against him to test the waters. He groans, the sound loud and unabashed.

“Aw–awra.” He grits out, fingers digging into the softness of her hips. His eyes are half-lidded, trained on her face. She grinds down again and he gasps, the sound a lot higher and breather, and it makes her core shake. “I–I can’t.” He huffs out, blush across his cheeks. She ignores him, grinding firmly against him.

She closes her eyes in pleasure, the feeling of his hardness on her bare pussy makes her mind spin. Her wetness lubricates the slide, and the head of his member catches on her clit on every upstroke. His gasps and moans are all she can hear, and she plants her arms firmly on his chest, grinding in long strokes until he’s reaching for her desperately.

“Awra stop–I,” he huffs out, voice strained. “Eywa, please Awra–” He reaches forward for her, but falls back against the floor. “Close–close.” He trembles as he says that, nails digging raw into the dip of her waist. She isn’t close yet, but she’s desperate to see Neteyam come undone. The thought of him in a pleasured daze with her sends liquid pooling downward, and the friction between their bodies becomes that much sweeter. His eyes are squeezed shut, eyebrows scrunched as he shudders.

“Awra, my love,” he heaves, back arching off the ground. “Sorry–I can’t” And suddenly, there’s liquid heat splashing all over her inner thighs, across the outside of her pussy and smearing across his stomach and groin. He’s almost whining, and his grip on her waist is tense. His knuckles are white, and he bites on his lip to muffle his sounds. She feels herself throb harshly at the sight of his pleasure, looking down at the translucent white mess between their bodies. She whimpers, feeling how sticky and dirty she’d become. Neteyam came. All over himself. All over me. The thought has her shivering in arousal, and she can feel how wet she is.

Neteyam is gasping, catching his breath. There are goosebumps all over his skin, and Awra traces over them with her fingertips. He smiles tiredly at her, eyes half-lidded still as he looks at her. “Sorry. I didn’t get to help you–” He starts, sitting up quickly but then grimacing at the mess between their legs.

She giggles. “It’s okay, ‘teyam. We don’t have to do anymore if you’re tired.” She placates, wrapping her arms around his neck. He hums contentedly, leaning towards her with a small sigh. She rests her head in the crook of his neck, nose pressed to his skin. He wraps his long arms around her back, and she catches the way his breath hitches at the feeling of her bare breasts on his chest. She smiles, but doesn’t say anything. It’s extremely intimate though she’s sticky with his release – just breathing in his scent and playing with strands of his braids. She could stay here forever with him.

“Are you sure? I must apologise if I lack experience. I’ve never–” He rambles, face hot. She smiles endearingly, shaking her head as she tightens her hold around his neck. He shivers, resting his chin on her head.

“Don’t apologise ‘teyam. It’s okay. We’ll have plenty of chances to do more next time.” She answers, a laugh bubbling up in her throat. She feels him laugh, chest rumbling with it.

“Since when did you start calling me ‘teyam?” He teased, leaning back to cup her face. “It’s always just Neteyam. Or ignoring me.” She gasps at him, and he does nothing but smile goodheartedly. His eyebrow raises, almost expecting a reply.

She blows a strand of hair out of her face, sticking her tongue out at him playfully. He chuckles, pulling her in against his chest once more. “Why can’t I call you ‘teyam. It’s a nickname. It’s cute.” She gripes, mumbling into his collarbone. She nips him playfully, and he laughs. She can’t stop the smile on her face at the sound of his laughter.

“I like when you call me that.” He finally answers, smiling. “You should call me ‘teyam all the time from now on. Okay?”

Awra smiles, digging her face into his neck even more. “Deal.”

#neteyam avatar #neteyam sully #neteyam #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #atwow #neteyam angst #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam fanfiction

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 7

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

Awra registers that she’s warm and comfortable, and the bedding she’s curled up on is soft and downy against her skin. She can hear her parents’ voices talking in hushed tones, punctuated by the crackling of fire and the buzz of village life. She hums contentedly, snuggling deeper into her bedding.

“Awra, are you awake?” Comes her father’s voice. It’s still got an underlying rasp at this time of dawn, and it reminds her of childhood – when he used to shake her awake with threats of giggles as she laughed and squirmed in his grip. She smiles at the memory, a smile dancing on her lips as she cracks an eye open at her father’s question. Her parents are sitting in front of the fireplace in the centre of their marui, gently stirring something in a pot. The steam curls upwards from the fireplace, white tendrils licking at the straw and seagrass woven together to form the ceiling.

“I’m awake, maseumpu. What’re you guys making?” She stretches her arms over her head, easing the tension from her joints. Her father nods towards the stone pot, and her mother pats the ground next to them. Awra stands, tail swishing as she moves to crouch next to her mother in front of the fire. She peers into the stone pot, the contents thick and green as it bubbled and frothed. “Medicine?” She asked.

“Herbs, for your mother.” Her father answers, still stirring the mixture gently. She sniffs the pot tentatively, recoiling at the strong, astringent smell. Her face contorts, and her mother laughs gently.

“My beloved, it is made from luak’li leaves. You should not smell it unless you find yourself in dire need to.” Awra chuckles in embarrassment, and for a moment, she just watches the medicines simmer and bubble in the pot. It’s pleasantly warm in front of the fire, and for a moment, it’s peaceful inside their marui. Nothing but the gentle bubbling inside the pot and the crackling embers can be heard – and Awra feels herself grow drowsy once again.

“Where’s Tsireya?” She hums, looking around their empty marui for her sister. Her mother hums, eyeing the entrance of the marui.

“She went to forage for some herbs, for the baby.” Her mother says, hand on her pregnant belly. Awra nods at that, a spark of jealousy igniting at her sister’s freedom. Something I’ll never have, she adds bitterly. But she says nothing, just lets her eyes trace the tattoos swirling on her mother’s turqoise skin. They’re artfully intricate – lines and symbols intersecting and branching to form patterns that spread out over her mother’s belly. Each line and stroke is a symbol of something – strength, confidence, bravery, speed; a trait that is favourable to the people. Each one an icon of something great, showing each Na’vi’s skills; almost like a roadmap on their skin.

“Where were you last night, ma’ite? You did not eat with us.” Her father’s voice breaks through her reverie. All of a sudden, she feels the air shift. Awra wills herself not to panic, turning ever so slightly to face her father. He’s looking at her, fishing the ladle out of the pot and laying it on the ground next to the fire.

“I was unwell.” She lies, forcing out a pathetic sniffle. “I went out for some fresh air.”

Her father just grunts. “You should have stayed. Dinner with the people is an important part of your future as Tsahik. How do you expect the people to respect you if you are constantly sneaking away.” He scolds, and Awra’s ears flatten against her head. She plays with a loose braid, teasing it between her fingers. He clicks his tongue, before adding: “Do not forget about your Iknimaya coming up. I expect you to prepare yourself before then.”

Awra sighs internally. The dreaded Iknimaya. “Yes masempu. I will prepare myself.” She bites her tongue to prevent herself from saying more. Her Iknimaya loomed over her head like dark rain cloud, casting a shadow over her everyday life. I still have time until I turn twenty, what’s the rush.

Her father huffs in reply, hands on his lap. Her mother places a hand on his shoulder, and he turns to face her with an unreadable expression. She sees her mother nod, and something in her gut sinks. What’s going on, she thinks. It cannot be good.

“Ma’ite,” her father starts, “you have caught the eye of someone.” He starts, and Awra feels her breathing speed up. No, no. “His name is Te’lau, and his parents are Mo’saat and Rak’yuuten. He is a fine warrior, and will make a strong mate.” Awra smiles uneasily, a stiff disgruntled expression on her face. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this–

“Me beloved, we are not asking you to mate him now.” Her mother interjects, voice gentle. “All we ask if you consider him. Get to know him.” Awra bites her lip, canines digging into her lower lip. She swipes her tongue over the wound, soothing it. It burns, but the aching in her chest overpowers the sting in her lip.

“But–” She tries, but her father silences her with a single raised palm. Her mother shakes her head at her, eyes sternly asking her to stay silent. Awra shrinks into herself, swallowing.

“You know our expectations of you. You are lucky to have caught the eye of such a fine warrior in our clan. Many Metkayina women are dying to mate with him, you should consider this a blessing from our Great Mother.” Her father declares. His voice is assertive, and and his chest is puffed out – he looks the way he does when he’s addressing the clan. Awra hates it, hates the way she automatically curls into herself when speaking to her father. Hates the way that stupid lump in her throat always makes itself known at the worst times. Hates the fact that she’ll always have to live in this cycle of pleasing and praying. Awra lets out a small, shuddery exhale at her father’s words, and she can feel her mother looking at her with concern.

“Ma Awra, are you feeling okay?” Her mother asks. She nods, placing a hand over her chest. She wills herself to answer, but her voice comes out shaky. She hates herself for it – she’s expected to sound forthright and confident. Older sister and future Tsahik, there is no room for weakness and indecisiveness; as she’s come to learn. And yet, when she needs it the most, her voice and heart betrays her.

“I’m fine, mother.” She forces out, voice almost a whisper as she glances at her mother. Her mother’s lips are set into a thin line, but she nods at Awra’s words. “I’ll think of him, father. Thank you.” She squeezes out, a weak smile on her lips.

At that, her father finally smiles – a foreign expression on his usual stern face. It’s almost strange the way his face lights up, cheeks stretching and teeth showing. She has to stop herself from recoiling, just forcing out a stiff smile in return. “I knew our daughter would see the way.” He says to her mother, but she knows the statement is for her. Her heart squeezes painfully in her chest. Disappointment, she thinks, all I am is a disappointment. Her mother smiles in return, eyes turning into half-moons and she claps her hands. All of a sudden, the room becomes hazy and she can’t seem to breathe. Her vision fades at the edges, and she struggles to inhale.

Her parents don’t notice, busy smiling and nursing at the mixture still simmering away over the flame. She gurgles, choking on her next inhale. She can feel her chest heave with the effort, and she’s grasping at the floor; trying to haul herself to her feet without alarming her parents. “I’m–” She chokes on her words, coughing as she she inhales but no relief comes. She feels like there’s vacuum in her chest.

“Awra? Are you okay?” Her mother asks, finally noticing something amiss. Awra’s eyes are unfocused, shifting between her parent’s faces and the floor. She tries to nod with a smile, but her head pounds viciously – saliva collecting in her mouth at the pain and panic. “I–fine, just–” She desperately tries to get a word out, but her tongue feels like lead in her mouth.

“Awra!” Her mother yelps, her parents rush over by her side as she feels her knees hit the floor. They’re going to bruise, she thinks. But her mind is worlds away, fighting to breathe as she claws at her chest. Each gasp feels like fire, and belatedly, she can feel tears leak out of the corners of her eyes. “Ma’ite, what is the matter!” She hears her father say, voice raised.

It does nothing to quell the furious pounding of her heart, the swell of fear and panic. What’s happening to me, I can’t breathe. I can’t– She chokes again, saliva trailing out the side of her lips. On all fours, she can see the floor beneath her fingers spin, fading in and out of focus. “I don’t kn–what’s happening,” she grits, angry at herself, at her body for betraying her this way in front of her parents. Her head feels like she’s in a bubble, hearing muted and faraway like when she’s underwater. Goosebumps break out on her arms and chest, and suddenly, she feels nothing. Her limbs are numb, and her hands are stuck outspread on the floor. She can feel her parent’s hands on her, shaking and screaming her name. But she can’t seem to move, throat closing as her eyes close.

The last thing she hears is her mother’s voice screaming her name, shrill with panic before her eyes slide shut and she falls.

#neteyam avatar #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam angst #neteyam fanfiction #atwow #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #avatar

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 6

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

“Do you wanna talk about what happened? I saw you talking to your father and you seemed upset.” Neteyam starts gingerly, almost as if he were afraid to broach the subject.

“Yeah well…he’s always upset at me.” Awra responds dejectedly. “Or should I say disappointed.” She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her arms as the night chill set in. Neteyam had offered to take her down to the beach for a stroll, and as much as she’d wanted to put up a fight and stay angry, she just couldn’t resist alone time with the Ometicayan boy. Being with him was electrifying and for the first time in years, she felt free. Free from the shackles of responsibility, of the looming doom of having to mate with someone she didn’t love. Besides, the beach was beautiful during the eclipse, and after the day she’d had, it was the perfect way to clear her mind. Neteyam just happened to improve the entire experience, she’d convince herself wryly.

Neteyam is silent at her answer, and for a while just the crunching of their footsteps in the sand can be heard. She’s at ease for the first time in days, because she knows her mother would be busy entertaining as Tsahik back at the mass dinner. No prying eyes or questioning gazes. The one time responsibility has worked in my favour, she thought bitterly.

“Y’know my father came from a star,” he says suddenly, pointing a slender finger at the sky. Awra looks up, taking in the magnificent expanse of stars and planets she could see. The Pandorian eclipse was truly a sight to behold. Splashes of indigo and violet interweaving with strips of the milky way and silvery stars – if she closed her eyes she could just about imagine herself far away from here. With the wind on her face, and the smell of the sea on her tongue she felt alive. Free.

“A star?” She answers, a small smile on her lips. She knew of Neteyam’s father – Toruk Makto, rider of Last Shadow. His story was famed throughout Pandora and Na’vi worshipped him. But afterall, stories were just that – stories. And meeting Toruk Makto in real life for the first time proved to be an underwhelming experience. She recalls the day they landed on the Metkayina shores – pleading desperately for uturu. She’d glanced inquisitively out from her family’s marui then, intrigued by the unfamiliar sound of ikran. She’d shuddered at the sight of the great beasts – hostility bleeding out of every pore. Nothing like the gentle playful ilu she was so familiar with.

Jake Sully had stepped off his ikran with his family in tow, their hands raised non-threateningly as her father approached. A crowd had gathered at this point, and she’d been too nervous to join the rest of her family on the beach. Outsiders, she remembered thinking. They’re a long way from home. She had strained her eyes to catch just a glimpse of Toruk Makto – mighty warrior who united the Na’vi in a legendary fight against the sky people. Instead, she saw Jake – Na’vi, father of four, whose eyes looked more tired than war-thirsty and whose resolve had weakened in his pursue of revenge against the sky people. She had cocked her head then, confused. He looked nothing like a battle-hardened warrior she’d heard tales of. He just looked like a tired father. As her eyes travelled over the rest of the dark blue-skinned Na’vi, she spotted Neytiri, then Kiri and Tuk. Behind them emerged Lo’ak and then finally, Neteyam.

She was captivated immediately, embarrassingly so. He was wearing a warrior’s cummerbund, accentuating his thin waist and lean physique. His eyes were large, doefully so, and from far away, still seemed earnest and curious. She’d felt butterflies then – tickling her stomach as her cheeks warmed quickly. He was attractive, extremely attractive, the most attractive Na’vi I’ve ever seen. The sound of a horn snapped her out of her trance, and she’d darted back into her marui in absolute humiliation; spending the rest of the day weaving in an attempt to get the Ometicayan boy out of her head.

Now looking at Neteyam as they walked on the beach, she couldn’t help but smile to herself. The memory of their arrival felt so long ago, and she’d sworn to her parents to stay away from the Ometicayan boy and yet here she was. Neteyam was chuckling, a low sweet sound. “Yes, he came from a star. From another planet. He’d come for Science in the body of a Na’vi.” He answered, still gazing wistfully up at the plethora of stars.

“That sounds cool.” She hummed back, taking in his side profile. The way his forehead connected to a strong brow bone, punctuated by the most devilish markings. The slope of his nose and the slant of his ears as they twitched, and the way his lips would fall into a slight pout when he was thinking. She followed the thin trails of each individual braid on his head, wonderfully weaved with beads and other Na’vi ornaments – relished in the way they tinkled as he walked besider her; blissfully unaware of her scrutiny.

He laughs again, a throaty chortle. She can’t stop the smile this time, her cheeks stretching as her eyes squint. “Yes, I guess you can say it’s pretty cool.” He replied, finally turning to look at her. He’s got a beautiful smile, she thinks. Expressive but so genuine, it lifts his cheeks and turns his eyes into half-crescents. But he has an underlying smirk – almost mischievous in the way he regards her. She can see his resemblance to Lo’ak – a leader at heart but still innately a troublemaker. “You should do that more often.” He offers quietly as he looks at her.

“Do what?” Awra replies, hand coming up to cover her mouth. She’s still smiling, she realises.

“Smiling. Laughing.” He says, and her eyes widen. “You look beautiful when you do.” The word troublemaker comes to mind again. She can’t stop the way her breath hitches at his comment – said so blatantly as if he were commenting about the weather.

“Shut up.” She laughs, shoving at his shoulder playfully. He almost giggles at that, hand coming to rub at the sore spot on his arm. His laughter rings through the night air, a cheerful and warm sound that sets her insides ablaze. Deep down, her heart was doing leaps – hearing Neteyam say that had set her heartbeat soaring. But of course, she’d never let him know.

“It’s true! You’ve got a cute smile, Awra. You should smile more. Instead of frowning all the time.” He drags out his last syllable cheekily, poking at her cheek to her surprise. “Mother tells me this is why girls get frown lines so much faster.”

She gasps at that, reaching a hand to smack him. He laughs, playfully dodging her blow by stepping away. She narrows her eyes at him, reaching for his tail to yank on it. “Take that back! I do not have wrinkles!”

“Sure you do! I can see them already.” He teases, just stepping out of reach as she chases after him. Now she’s laughing to, silly giggles spilling over as she reaches her hand out for his tail. It feels like a game of run and go catch she used to play as a child – nostalgia filling her chest in a wave of warmth.

“Get back here!” She screeches, laughter rising in the clear night air. She’s running after him now, but he’s just too fast; too limbre. He steps out her grabs easily, swatting her hands away with ease as she huffs in playful frustration. His smile is so wide his canines are showing, and she feels her heart skip a beat. He’s smiling at me, she thinks bashfully, he’s smiling and it’s all for me. The thought makes her heart race faster, and in a last ditch attempt, she leaps forward onto him and sends them both tumbling into the sand.

She hits the ground hard, feeling her eyes close on impact. Belatedly, she can hear him wheezing with laughter and she opens her eyes to his sly smirk. “I guess you caught me.” He says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He’s laying down on the sand, back surely covered with the warm crunchy stuff. His tail is flicking playfully by his thigh, as she struggles to her hands and knees.

“Ugh great, now I’m covered in sand again.” She whines, dusting off her elbows and knees disgruntedly. She can’t help but feel a sense of deja vu at their current predicament – how similar this was to a few nights ago when they’d fought. The memory leaves a sour taste on her tongue. Before she starts spiralling however, his voice breaks the silence.

“Frowning again. What did I say? Wrinkles.” He teases, finger poking at her cheek again. She squints her eyes at him, rubbing at her cheek.

“You got sand on my face you little–” She stops herself, sticking her tongue out at him playfully. He just cackles at her childish behaviour, sitting up on the sand while wiping himself down. All of a sudden, they’re sitting face to face again on the sand, and her heart gives a little painful twinge. “I should–”

“You have these, um–” he says suddenly, stopping her mid-sentence. Awra looks on in confusion.

“What?” He’s sitting there, staring wistfully at her face. Do I have sand on my face or something? Before she can start feeling self-conscious, his face lights up.

“Dimples!” He states victoriously. Awra smiles, albeit confused. “You have dimples.”

“Dimples?” She asks, rolling her eyes at him. Neteyam just smiles, a different smile – this one doesn’t make his eyes disappear or stretch his cheeks wide. It’s gentle, loving, and suddenly Awra felt way to intimate sitting opposite him. He leans towards her, and in a bout of panic, she feels herself pull away instinctively. “Please don’t–”

He prods at her cheek, right next to her lips. “Dimple. Here.” He says almost proudly. Awra sputters, turning away. He chuckles at that, pointing to his own cheek. “I don’t have any, but you do. Mother tells me it’s a sign of good luck.”

“I never noticed it.” She mumbles, looking down at her hands shylyl. He huffs out a small laugh, before reaching a hand out for her. She can feel herself turn purple, a blush rising to her cheeks. “What?”

“Give me your hand, you.” He just says, making grabbing motions. She rolls her eyes, placing her palm in his. He smiles, turning her hands over in his palms as if to check for something.

“What are you doing? Checking me for bad luck or something?” She mutters, watching him stare at her palms with morbid curiosity.

“No, I’m just admiring how little your hands are. Smaller than my baby bro’s.” He teases, gesturing to her fingers. “Tiny hands.” She feels her stomach twist at that, butterflies erupting in gallons in her gut. What is he doing?

“My hands are not tiny.” She stumbles out. She hates the way her voice comes out thin and raspy, like she’s nervous. She wants to come off nonchalant, like she isn’t at all bothered by this cat and mouse game they’ve been on. If anything, she should be slapping his hands away, yelling at him for dishonouring her and their friendship. And yet, she feels like she stuck here, on this beach with him, glued to his side. He’s magnetic, and she can’t seem to find the strength to pull away.

She bites her lip as she notices how large his hands are, and the memory of their encounter on the beach a few nights ago comes rushing back. It sends tendrils of heat licking viciously up her spine, and her tail twitches in interest.

“Do you like my hands?” He asks innocently. Awra blushes furiously at that. Had she been so obvious in her ogling? He laughs when she doesn’t respond, body shaking with gentle chuckles as she freezes rigid at his question. “I’m just kidding.”

His hands are warm, painfully so, and lined with tiny scars. No doubt from his father’s missions against the sky people. Letting her eyes rake upwards, she focuses on his forearms this time – smooth skin lined with the same dark blue markings, speckled with bioluminescent freckles. They glow in the dark, creating lines of silvery-blue up and down his arms and legs. “Beautiful.” She hushes out quietly.

Unbeknownst to her, Neteyam caught her and felt himself grow warm. She delicately traced the veins on his forearms, circling around the pretty glow-in-the-dark freckles, and zigzagging through his unique markings. His tail flicks in interest behind him, swallowing as she continues her ministrations. The air between them grows thick with tension, but Awra doesn’t address it; doesn’t even look up. She scrapes a fingernail down his arm, watching goosebumps rise in its wake.

“Do you get hurt alot? When you were back home?” She asked timidly, still tracing circles on his arms. He shivers.

“I–I guess so. But it’s fine. I’m a warrior, I’m supposed to fight.” She can’t help but notice the last part sounded desperate, almost like he were pleading.

“You don’t have to fight here. You’re safe.” She answers. “You don’t have to worry about being a warrior here.”

He doesn’t answer, just hums thoughtfully. She presses her thumbs into a divot at his wrist, feeling his heartbeat. She can feel him shift, discreetly sliding himself closer to her on the sand. She forces down a smile, biting down on her lip as she feels his heartbeat speed up under the pads of her thumbs.

“I want to fight. It’s my duty, as a warrior.” He finally says slowly – almost feeling each word as it leaves his mouth. “I have a duty to protect my people. My family. And–” As he says that, he trails off, looking straight at Awra’s face.

She can feel his stare, inhaling at his words. Protect me? She pretends not to notice, still playing with his palms. “You worry too much Neteyam. You need to learn to let loose once in a while.”

He snorts at that, a funny almost obscene noise. She looks up and shoots him a funny look, which he returns with a dazzling smile. Snickering, he says: “You sound like Lo’ak.” Awra rolls her eyes at him.

“Don’t compare me to your troublemaking younger brother. We are poles apart. Some of us actually have responsibilities too.” She replies flatly, placing his hands back in his lap. She hugs her knees to her chest, resting a cheek on her knee. “I’m such a hypocrite. I say to let loose, but it’s the one thing I’m not supposed to do.”

He nods slowly, listening. She loves the way he’s so attentive – pondering over every word she utters, even if it’s stupid. The yearning look on his face when she smiles at him makes her heart stop every time.

He laughs, filling her chest with something warm and fuzzy. It reminds her of the way her dad would chuckle when she was a child – doting and gentle. Her expression becomes stoney at the thought of her father and their earlier conversation, and she looks up at the gentle crashing waves in the distance.

“My father, he was talking about Iknimaya.” At that, Neteyam’s expression becomes one of worry.

“Iknimaya? He repeats. Awra nods.

“My father expects me to find a mate once I complete my rituals. He is to become Olo’ eyktan when father returns to Eywa. I am to become his Tsahik. It has already been decided, from my birth.” She reveals. Her voice feels small, far too small, and she hates the way he’s looking at her with pity in his eyes. She sighs in defeat. “Yeah. That was what we spoke about earlier, at dinner.”

Neteyam is quiet. She takes it as a hint to continue.

“He used to bring me to Tak’hu, or clan marui, and make me stand in the centre while others eat. He hoped that I’d catch the eye of a warrior, and that maybe we would mate as he wishes.” Neteyam’s eyes harden. “But this is normal practice for us. To become one of the people is to accept this.”

“Awra–”

“It is not the life that I want. And it is not a life I would wish on my sister or anyone else.” She adds. “But it is the life that my parents wish for me, and I do not wish to disappoint them. Not anymore than I already have.” The mood is solemn now, serious. The chill prickles at her skin, and her hair shifts with the breeze. Sitting up straight, she shakes her head and shrugs.

“It is not the worst. I still have some time before Iknimaya, and time before I have to choose a mate. I wish to live my days out with no regrets.” She says, smiling softly. Neteyam’s eyes soften at that, hand reaching out to gently weave through her hair.

“I see.” He starts, and she looks up at him. His face is gentle, a small adoring smile on his lips. She feels herself melt under his gaze, willing her traitorous heart to stop beating so fast. “I understand what you mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Before we left the forest, I had just completed my own Iknimaya. I was also set out to choose a mate, but we left before that could happen.” Awra listens intently, enjoying the timbre of his voice. “I mourn the life I left behind, and I know you know how that feels.”

She nods. “But the Ometicayan have a saying. Every person is born twice – once when they are born, and the second is when they become one of the people forever.” As he says this, Awra notices his eyes cloud over with a faraway look, like he’s reminiscing his days in the forest. She reaches a hand out gently, lacing their fingers together. The contact brings him back, eyes darting down to their connected hands before he smiles shyly.

“I knew that Eywa had a plan for me.” He said, looking up at the sky. “And I embraced my new life here, with the Metkayina people. I still have to look for a mate, and I see now that I was always meant to find her here.”

Awra stares at him, taking in his last sentence slowly. I was always meant to find her here.

He smiles at himself, almost like he’s embarrassed of his next words. “My grandmother used to tell me that we feel it here. When we mate.” He reaches his other hand and places it on her chest. She feels herself gasp at the contact, heart racing. She prays to Eywa he can’t feel how her heart is pounding in her ribcage. “That what we do must come from inside.”

She sighs at that. Tsireya’s words echo in her mind. “I know–”

“You know, but you do not believe.” He interrupts smiling. “We all have duties and responsibilities, Awra. But when Eywa gave us life, she wanted for us to do with it as our heart asks.” He pats her chest twice gently. His eyes are incredibly soft, yearning. She clears her throat, sucking in a shaky breath. All of a sudden, she feels like crying. There’s a lump in her throat, and she can feel her palms become clammy.

“When my father came to Pandora, to be with the Na’vi, his duty was to the sky people. But all that changed when he met my mother. Their story showed me that we are not…ordered by our duties. Rather, by our heart.”

Awra feels a tear slip down her cheek. She bites her lip, squeezing her eyes shut. A wave of desperate grief floods her chest – a feelig of loving of her father for the hero that he was to her, but also grappling with the reality of his disappointment. It hurt, more than she could believe. He smiles gently, wiping it away, but doesn’t say anything. “In many ways, I am like my father. And you are, in many ways, like yours. But sometimes, we need to follow our heart to truly live our lives.”

At his words, she thinks about the nights she’d lie awake in her marui, pleading and begging on a shooting star. Begging for Eywa, someone, anyone to take her grief away. To show her how she was meant to live – torn between the life she wanted, and the life she was meant to live. As a young girl, she’d pray and pray until her knees gave out, perched by the entrance of her family’s marui as they slept. Choking her sobs as she willed herself to be strong, to do as she was told, to stop being a disappointment.

“I–” She stops, because her voice shakes. She sucks in a breath, swallowing hard. “I just don’t know what to do, Neteyam.” She starts, voice croaky. “I know I cannot be the daughter that they want, because the life they have chosen is not one I wish to live. And it pains me to know I’ve hurt them, that I’ve disappointed them, that I failed–”

At that, she cries. She feels the dam break before she can stop it, and with a shuddery gasp, the tears come in waves. They spill in rivulets down her cheek, soaking into her cheeks and dripping down her chin. She hurries to wipe them away, sniffling quietly to stifle the sobs. Her chest aches with the effort of suppressing her sobs, and she grabs at her top in desperation. The grief stings, and makes her head pound viciously. She can feel him staring at her, watching her cry and sob like a teenager–

And then, she feels warmth. He’s hugging her sideways – having leapt from his position in front of her. She burrows her face into the crook of his neck, crying like a child into his collarbone. She’s embarrassed, body going rigid as she bites her lip to stop more noises from escaping.

What she didn’t expect was how deep and intense her grief was. Years of repressed feelings come flashing back, and she feels her body shake with release. Years of being misunderstood, humiliated and paraded around like an object – stifling her own torment for her family’s sake. She’s holding onto him now, surely leaving indents in his arms from where she’s digging her nails in to ground herself. But he’s silent, holding onto her as he rocks back and forth. His other hand is rubbing circles into her back, and she feels like a toddler being coddled. He’s a reassuring weight against her body, warm and heady scent flooding her nostrils as she inhales and exhales against his skin. He smells like salt and sand, with a hint of the wood he used to make his bow. It’s intoxicating, and helps to calm her as she sobs.

After a while, her sobs quieten into sniffles, and she sits back on her haunches as she wipes at her face. Her face is puffy, and she feels like she’s just run the entire length of their village. “Are you feeling better?” He asks gently, hand on her thigh when she pulls back.

She sucks in a shaky breath. “Yes, look Neteyam–”

“You don’t have to say anything. I understand. We can pretend this never happened if you feel…embarrassed.” He teases playfully. She laughs, and it comes out a choked watery sound.

“It’s okay, I appreciated that. I guess I never realised how little I’d been taking care of myself. With my Iknimaya coming up, i guess I just got overwhelmed.” She responds, placing a hand over his. He nods at that, lacing their fingers together again. It’s an intimate gesture, and feels oddly comforting even as she wipes snot from her nose.

“I’m always here for you Awra.” He starts, looking at her intently. She avoids his gaze, so he chuckles again. “Look at me, please?”

She relents and does so, and he smiles. It’s a sweet smile, canines on show. “I’m sorry, truly sorry about how I hurt you those nights ago. And I want you to know that I treasure you, I do. I just have a harder time showing it.” She bites her tongue. Her heart feels lighter after crying, and his apology felt genuine.

“I want you to know that you can come to me, and I will be here waiting. Because you called.” He says, cheeks tinting purple. She smiles through watery eyes, snickering.

“Hey I’m being serious–”

“I know, I know. You’re just…the cheesiest person ever Neteyam. Who knew you had it in you” He squints at her. “But I love that about you. Thank you, you skawng.”

He chuckles lightheartedly, squeezing her hand tighter in his. “You’re most welcome, Awra.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam avatar #neteyam sully #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #atwow #neteyam angst #neteyam imagine #neteyam fanfiction

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 5

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

Existence was truly a miserable thing. Awra could testify for sure. She was sure the Great Mother was playing tricks on her to prolong her suffering.

She’d gotten little sleep last night – what with the late hour and the frequent tossing and turning. Every subsequent waking hour was spent ruminating over what happened with Neteyam, upsetting her mood and making her completely disinterested in doing remotely anything around the Ometicayan people. Much to her despair however, she’d forgotten she had agreed to help Tsireya teach the Ometicayans how to freedive near the reef today. Outstanding, she gripes. Another day spent having to dodge and avoid Neteyam always bode well for the day.

When they reached the end of the first circle of corals, Tsireya gestured for the Ometicayans to dive. Out of the corner of her eye, she could feel him; staring intently down at the seabed pondering his next move. She rolled her shoulder out of habit. At least he’s not staring at me. Tsireya dove, followed by Lo’ak, ever eager to impress. Awra turns towards Kiri, who shoots her a small smile before diving forward and swimming after her brother. She pauses, glancing at Neteyam from the corner of her eye. He’s still not moving, eyes transfixed on the water surface. Immediately, she feels an awkward tension in the air.

“Are you just going to ignore me again?”

Awra startles at the sound of his voice, smooth and almost confident in the way it carries across the water. It almost irritates her how he doesn’t sound the least remorseful, and she bites her tongue. At her lack of reply, he sighs her name. “Awra.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” She answers, voice clipped with annoyance. She finally turns to face him, both of them treading water to stay afloat. He’s effortlessly beautiful under the sun, as usual, gazing at her with an unreadable expression.

“Must you make this so difficult? I said I was sorry–”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Neteyam. Can’t you get it?” She bites back, baring her teeth. “This isn’t a situation a simply sorry can fix.”

“I don’t like it when you ignore me.” Frustration bleeds into her words, making her throat close up. She’s never seen him angry before, he only ever uses this tone of voice with Lo’akl. “All you do is ignore me. Pretend I’m not there. I don’t understand why.”

Awra groans in irritation. “You don’t understand why? C’mon Neteyam, that’s just playing dumb as this point.” She feels herself getting more agitated in the moment, voice raising in pitch. “I literally kissed you. Kissed you! And you pushed me away.” She trails off, averting her eyes. She hates to admit how much his rejection had stung, how much it had hurt when he’d told her it was a mistake. But she was too proud to tell him.

“Look, I know what I said. I didn’t mean it that way.” He offers placatingly, trying to wade closer. She backs away unconsciously, putting distance between them. His ears turn down, swallowing. “I didn’t mean it that way, Awra. I promise you.”

“Sounded pretty clear to me.”

He clicks his tongue. “I said it was a mistake because it was late, we were tired and alone. I didn’t want us to do something we would regret in the morning.” Awra feels her heart sink even more at that. So typical of Neteyam to be all prudish and responsible at the wrong time. “Do you understand me? Awra?”

“Doesn’t change what you said.” You whisper. “Sounds like you were trying to find a way out. And if that’s what you want, then you don’t have to have this conversation with me right now. I’m telling you I hear you loud and clear Neteyam. I get it.” Her eyes sting, but she refuses to cry. Not in front of him.

“Awra, I–” He pauses, biting his lip; contemplating. “I’m sorry. For saying it was a mistake. It wasn’t, and that’s not what I meant.” She rolls her eyes.

“Sure. Okay.” Awra begins wading back to shore, the urge to run away again stronger than ever. She wades with more intensity than necessary, sending sea water spraying back at the Ometicayan with every stroke of her tail. So maybe she’s upset, he should know.

“Awra please, listen to me.” He pleads, and she can hear him swim after her. She doesn’t stop, wading quickly through the crystalline waters to the shoreline. She hears a splash from behind her, and he grabs her by the arm. She’s yanked backwards from the force, and forced under the water’s surface. All at once, there’s water rushing up her nose and into her mouth, her eyes clamping shut as she flails her arms around for purchase. She feels the vice grip on her arm disappear, and pushes herself upwards for air.

“Shit–!” She hears him panic as she resurfaces, coughing salt water out of her nose. She glares at him, making his ears flatten against his head.

“You really have a knack for getting on my nerves.” She says simply, voice betraying her irritation. “And you never seem to get the hint.”

“Just listen to me, please?” She really didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t help but notice how pretty he looked in the sun – dark blue skin glittering with water droplets. She doesn’t answer, a silent cue for him to continue. He takes a deep breath, a stern look crossing over his features. It’s a look she’d come to associate with Lo’ak, because it’s the expression Neteyam makes when he’s about to chide his younger brother for doing something reckless. Awra scowls at that.

“Don’t patronise me, I’m not–”

“Awra.” The sound of her name makes her stop in her tracks. He doesn’t sound condescending in the least, more tired and wary than anything else. “Listen.” She sulks, but stays silent, childishly avoiding his gaze when he tries to make eye contact. He shakes his head at her, an incredulous smile on his lips at her petulant behaviour.

“I meant it when I said I was sorry for hurting your feelings. It was not my intention. Not in the least.” He starts gently, still holding her arm. “But I was serious when I said I didn’t want us to do something rash that we’d regret in the morning. I have – we have responsibilities, and it wouldn’t be right for us to throw it all away for something we aren’t sure about.”

“I was sure.”

“How can you be certain? You do not know me.” It’s an innocent statement, but it hurts. It hurts because it’s true. The realisation makes her throat close up – and solidifies her worry that this entire roulette they’d been playing was one-sided. She thought about the nights she’d spent sneaking out, loitering precariously around his family’s marui just to make jokes and talk. Had it all been friendly then?

“Look, Awra, I like you. I do, but –” He stops himself, biting his lip.

“But what?” She snaps, making him look up. “If you didn’t want me to kiss you, you shouldn’t have kissed me first. You could have pushed me away, told me to go away, hell anything. But you– you just let me kiss you. I let you touch me, Neteyam. I guess I just thought–” Her voice cracks, and she curses her voice for wobbling. She dares to look up at his face, just to see his reaction. He’s looking at her with almost pity, eyebrows furrowed in the middle as he bobs up and down on the surface of the water.

It’s silent, suffocatingly so. She can’t stop the tears from escaping her eyes, clearing her throat and swiping at her face. Anything is better than having Neteyam feel sorry for her. Eywa forbid. She didn’t need his affection, nor his attention nor his pity. No, he could keep that to himself.

“Hey guys! You coming or what?” She’s snapped out of her reverie by Lo’ak’s voice. She didn’t notice him coming up for air, but he’s waving at her and Neteyam. “Bro get over here! I wanna show you this cool new trick Tsireya showed me!” Neteyam just gives his brother a thumbs up, but looks on with worry as Awra wipes at her eyes.

“Awra–”

“Coming!” She shouts, cutting him off. She didn’t want or need to hear anything more the Ometicayan had to say. She didn’t want anyone else catching on either. As she dove into the water, she could feel him there, behind her. Almost following her with each stroke discreetly as he could. She blew bubbles in annoyance, using her tail to speed up, cruising through the water until she reached the first cluster of brightly coloured corals on the seabed.

At this time of day, aquatic life was vibrant – and the corals were full of fish and other sea critters. Oranges and purples bled together in the clear water, and seaweed tickled at their toes as they dove for seashells. She could see her sister off to a corner of the reef foraging for a special kind of rock, probably to give to Lo’ak. She couldn’t help but smile. The younger Ometicayan was a troublemaker, but at least he didn’t kiss girls then claim it was a mistake. She rolled her eyes when Neteyam appeared beside her, holding onto a piece of coral for leverage under the water.

Leave me alone, she signed angrily. He shook his head, cheeks puffed out comically as he held his breath.

Can we just talk about this please? He signs back. She shakes her head, blowing bubbles in his direction as she swims towards Tsireya. Her sister notices her, cocking her head in confusion at the frown that is surely still on her face.

Are you okay? Tsireya asks, signing quickly as she looks on in worry. You look upset.

Awra shrugs, sighing and letting out another stream of bubbles which float to the surface. She gestures to Neteyam, who is still hovering behind them at a cluster of corals hesitantly. She can see him watching her and Tsireya, but doesn’t make any move to swim over. He doesn’t look remorseful or angry – just confused. Awra tears her eyes away from him, looking at her sister and signing, meet me at the surface. Tsireya nods, carefully stowing away a smooth, flat stone she’d collected into her shoulder sling before pushing off the seabed. Awra does the same, using her arms to make large strokes to carry her up to the water’s surface quickly.

She breathes in, the air clean and salty as she inhales. Tsireya surfaces next to her, shaking the water droplets out of her hair. “What’s wrong sister? I haven’t seen you this upset in a long time.”

“It’s Neteyam.” Awra admits, albeit a little worried. Tsireya’s eyebrows raise, but she says nothing. “Something happened yesterday, and it’s just–”

“You didn’t mate with him, did you?” Tsireya interjects, voice dropping to a sharp whisper.

“No!” You shriek. “Of course not. I’m not stupid enough to do that.” Tsireya looks relieved, shoulders slumping Awra’s response.

“Thank the Great Mother.” Tsireya sighs in relief, hand resting over her heart. “Eywa knows what mother and father would do if you had.”

You huff. “Yeah, I’m well aware of their expectations.” Awra bites out scornfully. Tsireya places a comforting hand on Awra’s shoulder, swimming up next to her sister.

“Then what’s wrong, Awra? You guys seemed to be getting along so well.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. But I’ve been wrong all along it seems.” Awra huffs. Around them the waves move gently, rocking their bodies gently. Tsireya urges her to continue, rubbing soothing circles into her arm.

“We–we kissed, last night.” Tsireya gasps at that, hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock. “Yeah, I know I know. But he kissed me first, and I just thought that maybe it meant he liked me. Y’know? So I went along with it.”

Tsireya frowns, worry all over her gentle features. “Sister–”

“But I was wrong okay? He kissed me, and I kissed him back and he told me it was a mistake.” Awra rambles, facing away from her sister. “I–” She hesitates, biting her lip. “I let him touch me Tsireya. I let him touch me, and he told me he didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Tsireya’s frown deepens, and her grip on Awra’s shoulder tightens. Her sister looks sad and worried all at once, lines marring her features as she takes in Awra’s slumped shoulders and defeated expression.

“I don’t know what to do now sister. I thought after he kissed me that maybe he liked me back. But it appears I have been delusional all this while.” You mumble dejectedly. “It hurts. I try to ignore it, and pretend I don’t care but I can’t. It hurts, and it burns in my chest and it’s all I can think about whenever I see him.”

Tsireya’s eyes dart around, trying to find something to say but nothing comes. All that she can do is hold on to Awra tightly.

Awra sniffles, clearing her throat. “He tried to talk to me, just now, when we were diving. I couldn’t get him to leave me alone. Everytime he talks to me, or looks at me, I feel breathless like I’ve been underwater for days. Everytime I see him, I feel like I’ve resurfaced for air. But it pains me knowing he doesn’t feel the same. And maybe, deep down, I don’t want to make up and play nice because I want him to hurt. I want him to know how this feels.” At that admission, she lets a tear slip, and she feels it run molten down her cheek. She doesn’t try to hide it, and Tsireya gently rubs it away with the pad of her thumb.

Awra looks up at her sister, large aquamarine eyes clouded with worry and sadness. “I’m sorry, Awra. You should have told me sooner. I didn’t know you were in so much sadness alone.” At that her sister wraps her in a hug, and Awra buries her face in her sister’s neck. They’re treading water on the water’s surface so it’s awkward, but it feels good to finally have some comfort. Awra feels herself melt into Tsireya’s embrace, more tears rushing to her eyes. She hears Lo’ak’s voice in the distance, accompanied by Kiri’s nagging and Tuk shouting. If she strains her ears, she can just about make out the sound of Neteyam’s quiet nagging as he asks his siblings to quiet down. She hides her face, not wanting the Ometicayans to see her cry.

“Tsireya, Awra! Are you guys coming? We’re going to check out the sea pools!” Come Kiri’s voice, lilting over the sound of the waves.

“Yeah!” Comes Tuk’s excited shout. “Kiri and I are going to look for special stones to put in my hair!”

“Later you guys! Why don’t you go ahead first, Awra and I will catch up!” Tsireya answers, gently pulling Awra towards the shore on the other end of the sea pools.

“Are you sure!” Lo’ak chimes in, waving from atop his ilu. “We’ll see you guys there right?”

“Yes, don’t worry! Go ahead!” Tsireya waves the Ometicayans goodbye, before checking on Awra. Awra wipes the tears from her cheeks, letting her sister guide her towards a rocky part of the shoreline.

“Did he go with them?” She asks, voice raspy. Tsireya just nods.

“He’s really sweet to you.” Awra says with a watery chuckle. “Lo’ak.”

Tsireya turns purple at that, a flush rising to her cheeks. “Oh, well, yes. He is.” She says, a shy smile on her lips. They settle comfortably on the rocks, tails curled behind them as they watch the water glitter under the sun’s rays.

“I really like him, ‘reya.” Awra admits quietly, gazing down at her hands. Four fingers, and a thumb. “I like him a lot. More than I care to admit.”

Tsireya giggles, hand coming up to cover her mouth as she does so. Awra can’t help the smile that rises at the sound of her sister’s infectious laughter. “What’s so funny!”

“Nothing sister, it’s nothing.” Tsireya teases, dimples showing. “It’s just that, I’ve not heard you sound so in love since well, y’know.”

Awra smiles shyly in return. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It has been a while hasn’t it.”

Tsireya nods, grabbing Awra’s hands and interlacing their fingers. “Listen here sister, you should go and tell Neteyam how you feel.”

Awra shakes her head fervently. “You don’t understand ‘reya. I already did. Or is kissing someone not enough of a declaration of feelings. How obvious do I have to be?” Tsireya just shakes her head again, smiling at her sister.

“You do not understand the way of men, sister. They are,” she thinks of the next word slowly, “slow.”

“Slow? What do you mean slow. Neteyam is like, the smartest Na’vi. Or something.” Awra trails off at that, embarrassment curling at how quick she was to praise the Ometicayan boy. “Not that I care or whatever.”

Tsireya shakes with laughter. “No Awra, you’re not listening to me. Men are…simple. Straightforward. You cannot beat around the bush about your feelings. He’s probably afraid of hurting you, you see?”

“He won’t hurt me.” Awra sulks.

“He doesn’t know that.” Tsireya placates. “All he sees is you. Future Tsahik, oldest daughter of Olo’ eyktan Tonowari and Tsahik Ronal. He knows what you hold upon your shoulders, sister. He’s probably the only one who understands.”

Awra nods. “I know–”

“He knows your romance is,” Tsireya pauses, “unbecoming. And that’s why he probably hesitates to pursue you as a mate. Because he knows it cannot be.” At that, Tsireya untangles their hands, placing one over Awra’s heartbeat.

“But you cannot let these things stop you, sister. You must tell him you feel. And it has to come from here.” Tsireya pats Awra’s chest, over her top where her heart would be. “Inside here.”

“But what if he rejects me anyway. I don’t–I can’t deal with that ‘reya.” Awra admits, head hanging low as she thinks about the look of anger and confusion on Neteyam’s face earlier that afternoon. “I’d rather not.”

“No, sister.” Tsireya interjects, shaking her head. Her long ornate braids fall over her shoulders, framing her face. Her sister is beautiful, and Awra can’t help but smile at the thought of her and Lo’ak together.

“I don’t know what to say.” Awra sighs. “I’ll just make things worse like I always do. And then mother and father are really going to skin me alive. And cook me.” Tsireya makes a face at her gory description.

“Like I said sister, it has to come from within. Follow your heart, and you won’t go wrong.” Awra’s mood lifts at Tsireya’s calming voice, a small smile on her face. Tsireya smiles in return, dimples forming little divots around her lips.

“And if I fail?”

“I’ll pray to Eywa for you. It will happen if it is meant to.”

Awra sighs, stretching on the rock. “We should head back. They’ll be looking for us.” Tsireya stands, offering a hand and pulling Awra up to her feet.

“I’ll be sitting by Lo’ak for dinner, if that’s okay.” Tsireya says quietly, almost like an afterthought. Awra turns to her sister, a grin on her face. Tsireya narrows her eyes at Awra’s mischievous expression.

“Of course it’s okay! You guys are pretty cute together.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner with the Metkayina people was always an event. Everyone gathered at a central marui – far larger than the pods families used to sleep in. This pod was meant for clan gatherings or discussion, and was a place of great importance. Inside, the walls are decorated with woven trinkets – almost like songcords for the clan. Every bead, shell or stone signified a great milestone that befell the Metkayina people and was strung up as a reminder of the clan’s great history.

When she younger, Awra used to sit and play in the central marui or Ta’khu, while her father worked on village matters with her mother and other clan warriors. When she grew older, she grew preoccupied and stopped frequenting the Ta’khu with her father. Since then, the only time she’d step foot inside the marui was during mass dinners. And even then, it was a dread and a half. Her father would parade her around in an attempt to secure a suitable mate, much to her shame and embarrassment.

Please masempu, she’d whine. It’s so embarrassing. Hush, he would say, holding up her hand like a trophy. She felt exposed and vulnerable, and started to dread coming to these dinners. Most days she’d wear a shawl to cover her shoulders – being stared at from every possible angle was violating and made her feel small. Today was no different. As she neared the pod, she could feel herself become uneasy, gripping Tsireya’s hand tightly as they hoisted themselves up into the Ta’khu.

Inside, it’s warm and humid, and she can feel a thin sheen of sweat break out as she sits next to her father near the head of the Ta’khu. Tsireya greets their father quickly and bids her farewell, before skipping over to where Lo’ak is crouching, waiting for dinner to be served. She stops her eyes from travelling, willing herself to look away. She smiles at the look of elation on her sister’s face as she takes her place next to her father.

Tonowari greets her with a nod, crouching at the inner-most part of the Ta’khu. It’s customary for the Olo’ eyktan to seat at the top of the pod, so he may see all his people as they dine. Other Metkayina people filter into the pod slowly, settling into a circle around a feast of fruit, meat and other dishes. The smell is mouthwatering.

“My daughter, where have you been?” He asks, turning to face her with a stern expression. In the dim light of the evening, shadows cast an eerie glow over the tattoos on his face. Awra feels herself shrink under his steely gaze.

“With the Sullys, masempu.” She answers. He looks up at that, glancing over at where the Ometicayan family is sitting. She allows herself a quick glance in that direction as well, and to her surprise, Neteyam is already staring at her. She looks away quickly, willing her beating heart to calm itself. Not here, not now, she reminds herself.

“How has the teaching been?” He probes, reaching for a piece of fruit from the spread of food. As he does so, other Metkayina people start eating as well as a sign of respect. She’s thankful there’s chatter in the pod, and feels at ease with lesser eyes watching her.

“It’s been going okay. They are learning fast, I believe they will be able to ride the ilu without any problem very soon.” Awra says, picking up a slice of meat and nibbling on it. She can feel someone staring in her peripheral, and she prays to Eywa it’s not Neteyam.

“That’s good, that’s good.” He trails off, chewing and swallowing. She enjoys the silence, basking in the warmth of the pod. “Have you had your eye on anyone yet? You know it’s almost time for your Iknimaya.”

And with that, Awra feels her heart sink. “Not yet, masempu. I haven’t really been looking for anyone.” She feels him shift, and swallows nervously.

“Why not, ma’ite? We have plenty of fine men for you to choose from! Warriors, hunters–” He stops himself, a hand on his chest. Awra shrinks into herself even more, the piece of meat she’d been nibbling on now lying forgotten on the floor in front of her. He exhales harshly, turning away from her. All at once, she’s suddenly seven again, and cowering in fear after doing something wrong.

“I’m sorry, masempu. I will look for someone worthy.” She offers timidly, tail curled tight around herself. He doesn’t respond, just exhales again. She takes it as an affirmative, turning away from him. She looks up at the Sully family and sees Neteyam staring at her – eyes large with inquisitivity. The rest of the Sullys are eating, scooping the food up with their hands and in Lo’ak’s case, shoving it unceremoniously into his mouth. She looks over at her sister, who is giggling quietly at Lo’ak’s antics.

Are you okay? He signs discreetly. Her eyes widen, and she glances at her father to make sure he was busy. Her father is speaking with one of the young warriors, eyes diverted from where she is sitting. Awra turns and signs back, not really.

Do you want to talk about it? She looks over at her father again, still occupied in conversation.

Biting her lip, she signs yes. She sees him blink in surprise.

Wanna go for a walk? Meet you outside.

Her heart skips a beat at the idea of being alone with him again.

Okay.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam avatar #neteyam sully #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #atwow #avatar the movie #neteyam imagine #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam angst

5 notes · View notes

cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 4

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

“Neteyam!” Awra whisper-shouts. She cringes at the sound of her own voice, even a whisper sounds far too loud at this time of eclipse. “Neteyam!”

She peeks into the Sully marui desperately, trying to get a glimpse of the oldest Ometicayan boy, but it’s pitch black inside the pod and she can only vaguely make out a few sleeping forms in the farthest corner. She strains her eyes in the darkness, trying to see if she can spot Neteyam amongst the Sullys, but to no avail. The moonlight only illuminates a few feet into the pod, and she can feel her patience wearing thin. “Neteyam! Are you here?”

No response. Behind her, the sound of nightlife stirs gently – animals click and chirp to each other in the undergrowth, and down by the shore comes the sounds of waves breaking. The air is unusually still tonight, and the sound of her own voice reverberating through the air both alarms her and frustrates her. God, where is that thickheaded boy! She clicks her tongue quietly, debating if she should attempt to enter the Sully marui to see if she could wake Neteyam. She eyes the sleeping bodies in the back warily as she contemplates her next move. It’ll be really bad if I got caught. Really, really bad.

But it was this or spend the next hour waiting aimlessly outside the Sully marui like a fool. Or worse, risk someone spotting her loitering outside the pod and informing her parents about it. She shivered at the thought of her parent’s reaction to her sneaking around the Sully’s pod at night – her mother had already warned her about spending too much time around the forest dwellers. It was hard enough as is to go about her day-to-day without feeling her mother’s unnerving stare down the back of spine, if she were caught now she’d surely be grounded for months; or even years. Awra shakes her head at that thought, sighing in resignation. Anything had to be better than being caught at this point, plus she’d already snuck out successfully so it’d be a waste to just head back home.. Biting her lip, she grabs the sides of the Sully marui and hoists herself up delicately. Trying her hardest to be quiet, she finds herself holding her breath as she carefully tiptoes towards the heap of sleeping bodies. She can see Jake Sully lying next to Neytiri, both of them completely unguarded for once; eyes closed as their chests rise and fall with their slumber. It’s almost uncanny watching them sleep – the mighty Toruk Makto vulnerable and unguarded for once.

Her eyes travel across the other sleeping figures, landing on Kiri and Tuk cuddled up next to each other next to their parents. Tuk’s hand is draped across Kiri’s waist, her face squished into her sister’s collarbone. She smiles at the line of drool down the corner of the youngest’s mouth, before turning to last body huddled up on a pile of bedding at the far corner of the pod. It’s Lo’ak, wrapped into himself far away from his siblings. His tail is wrapped around his own thigh, and he’s mumbling incoherently in his sleep. Awra has to stifle a snort. He looks so young like this – no getting into trouble or loudmouthing. But where is Neteyam? She glances over around the pod one final time for good measure but the oldest Ometicayan is just nowhere to be found. Where is that boy?

Confused, Awra turns and starts cautiously making her way back to the entrance of the marui. When she’s almost there, she steps on a loose piece of seagrass next to the fireplace and it crackles under her foot. She freezes at the noise, looking back at the sleeping family to see if anyone had heard. Lo’ak’s ear twitched in his sleep, but he turned right over and went back to sleep. She heaves a small sigh of relief, tiptoeing the rest of the way out of the pod; silently lifting herself out of the pod and dropping into the sand below. Outside, there is no movement, but she takes care to check her surroundings before leaving. Neteyam’s not sleeping in his family’s pod, so where could he be? Where would he go at this time of night?

“Awra?” Comes a hushed whisper from behind her. Awra shrieks, whipping her head around to find a bewildered Neteyam staring at her inquisitively. His hand is raised, probably to tap her on the shoulder, but it’s frozen in middair. She clamps a hand over her own mouth, glaring at him.

“Neteyam? What’re you doing here? Where did you go?” She whisper-scolds, grabbing his arm and dragging him away from his family’s marui. “I was looking for you, but you weren’t in your pod. I could’ve gotten found out you skxwng!”

“What? Why were you looking–”

“Where did you go! It’s dangerous to be out at this time of night you know!” She berates, still pulling him in the direction of a small alcove near the edges of the cluster of marui pods. He’s still confused, letting Awra pull him towards the beach. She puts both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to sit down on a large flat stone in the alcove. It’s a secluded part of the beach, shielded from view by tall trees and other vegetation; the perfect place for the type of conversation she’s about to have.

She sighs, turning around to face him. Neteyam is looking up at her, trepidation on his face as he takes in the way she’s standing with her hands on her hips. “Did I…do something?” He asks timidly, tail flicking behind him. He’s staring at her, that same pleading look in his eyes.

Suddenly, the night chill feels too cold, and goosebumps rise on her arms. She realised she’d never even planned out how she intended to start this conversation with Neteyam. Eywa, she was horrible at confronting her feelings, much less trying to articulate them to another Na’vi. A Na’vi I have feelings for.

She swallows, gesturing for him to scoot over on the rock. He does so, patting the space next to him as an invitation to sit. She gets comfortable on the rock, tail coming to rest beside her thigh as she looks into his eyes. She can’t help but realise how close they are on the rock, shoulder to shoulder and she can even count the bioluminscent freckles all over his face and neck. They’re beautiful, she thinks, and has to resist the urge to reach out and trace the light blue markings all over his cheeks. Neteyam clears his throat, looking away shyly as she stares unabashedly at his face.

“What…what did you want to talk about?” He asks, gazing at the ocean. Awra feels her cheeks warm, coughing as she turns to face the ocean as well, the salty breeze cool and refreshing as it washes over her cheeks.

“Right, um well. I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday. On the beach.” She deadpans, turning to look at him. “About what I said.”

He hums at that, eyes darting to look at her before he looks away again. “Ah about that, it’s fine. I’m cool.” He replies, a tinge of something in his voice Awra can’t identify. He chuckles, but it sounds forced, and Awra decides that she doesn’t like the sound of that.

She frowns at his response. “Wait, what? Are you sure? But Kiri–” She catches herself, snapping her mouth shut. She cringes, licking over her canines as he turns to look at her at the mention of his sister’s name. As he turns his head, his braids spill over his shoulder, and the beads tinkle in the night air. “Forget I said that. What I meant was, you didn’t–”

“What about Kiri? Did she say something?” He asks, before quickly adding: “I’m fine, really. I know I probably caught you at a bad time.”

“No, she didn’t say anything. Just that you seemed sad, that’s all. I just wanted to…check in with you. Make sure you were okay y’know?” She says, playing with her fingers. “I know I wasn’t really nice to you yesterday, and I guess I felt really bad about it. So I wanted to apologise.”

Neteyam snorts. “Awra, I’m not bothered because you weren’t nice to me.” He retorts, and Awra raises an eyebrow. He snickers, the sound more genuine this time. “But I appreciate you checking up on me.”

She can’t shake the feeling that he’s trying to downplay his feelings. His replies have been superficial at best – and she can’t help but feel like they’re facades to hide how much he’s upset by her behaviour. While she feels guilty that she made him feel that way, Awra’s also frustrated that he keep dismissing her as if this conversation isn’t hard enough as it is already.

She looks at him, resolve steely in her eyes. “Neteyam, look at me.” She says sternly. He raises an eyebrow in surprise, turning fully to face her and crossing his legs on the rock.

“I know you were upset by what happened on the beach yesterday. Kiri told me, so stop trying to deny it.” She insists, and she watches his expression morph from surprise to confusion. His lips part, and Awra can already feel the excuse before it leaves his mouth. “No, you listen. I know what I did wasn’t very kind, and you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t do anything wrong Neteyam, it was completely my fault. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that, and I know that.”

He’s listening intently now, an expression she can’t quite make out crossing his features. His eyes are wide, and in the light of the eclipse, the amber is vivid and she can almost make out flecks of gold in his irises. Neteyam is still as she talks, hands perched on his lap as his ears twitch periodically. “I’m sorry for what I said on the beach, okay? I just had a lot on my mind, and I wanted some time to myself to think. You just caught me at a bad time,”

He smiles at that, a timid smirk as she uses his words. “But it’s still not an excuse for me to talk to you that way. Yeah, that’s it. I just wanted to apologise. You can stop smiling like that now, skwng.” Neteyam has a goofy smile on his face, and she shoves him playfully. “Hey! I just apologised. Could you at least pretend to take it seriously?”

Neteyam chuckles at that, swatting her hands away. His tail flicks playfully behind him, and she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t nice to hear him laugh genuinely. “Take it seriously! Neteyam! Kiri said you were upset, hey–”

“Thank you, Awra. I appreciate your kind words, really.” He interrupts, a smile still on his face. Neteyam’s smiling so hard his fangs are showing, and you scowl playfully. “But seeing you so serious makes me laugh. So you must forgive me. I am not making fun of you.”

Awra rolls her eyes at his words, shoving his shoulder again. He shoves her back, and the sound of your childish banter fills the quiet night air. She giggles when she grab at his tail and he bares his fangs, cackling as he tries to grab at hers back but fails miserably. It feels nice to be so carefree, and for a moment, her mother’s words are pushed to the very recesses of her mind. Being around Neteyam just felt so liberating, and Awra was reminded of why she’d spent all those weeks and nights devising plans to sneak out with him to explore the ocean at night.

One firm shove against her shoulder knocks her off balance, and Awra careens off the rock. As she fall, she finds herself shrieking again, grabbing at the Ometicayan’s arms to steady herself. Instead, Neteyam topples with her, both of you rolling like infants in the warm sand. Awra can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation – she’d come out here with a heavy heart to apologise, but now she finds yourself covered in sand whilst Neteyam snickers. “You look crazy, you’ve got so much sand in your hair!” He snorts, throwing a handful of sand your way.

She rolls out of way, grumbling while dusting the particles out of her queue. “Oh yeah?” She grabs a fistful of sand as well, brandishing it in front of herself. He rolls his eyes and smiles, darting around her and grabbing her from behind before tackling her into the sand. Awra gasps at the contact, and barely has time to respond before she lands with a loud thud.. She can feel his bare torso pressed up against her back, and her tail is sandwiched between their bodies. He’s cackling softly in her ear, before gently releasing her as he rolls over and sits up.

“I won!” He states triumphantly, an impish smile on his face. His fangs poke out, leaving little indents in his bottom lip. She grumbles, but feels her cheeks warm at the ghost of the feeling of being held. She sits up in the sand as well, sulkily dusting sand out of her hair and off her arms and legs.

“I’m all sandy now, no thanks to you genius.” She mumbles, shaking her hair. He just laughs, watching her try (and fail) to remove all the sand from her braids. Awra shoots a glare at him, and he laughs before reaching over to help brush sand out of her hair. She feels herself warm again at the contact, even more so when he runs a gentle hand down the length of her queue. The contact is electric, and she feels her mind blank at the feeling.

“Wait Nete–”

“I’m just helping you, stop being so difficult. Come here.” He orders, tugging on her arm to sit opposite him. She moves on autopilot, sitting crosslegged in front of Neteyam as he runs a hand down her queue again. Goosebumps rise on her arms, and she feels herself shudder as he continues to lightly brush down her queue to remove the sand particles. “Maybe it was a mistake to play wrestle in the sand. It’s impossible to get out.”

She snorts at that. “You think?” He says nothing, but continues his feather-light touches. She feels herself lean into his touch, her cheeks warming at the pleasant feeling. He chuckles lightly under his breath, “Enjoying yourself?”

Awra scowls at him, pulling away as she tugs her queue out of his hands. “Oh yeah?” She reaches out and grab the long braid that hangs down his back, squeezing firmly before dragging her palm down the length of it. Awra snickers mischeviously, expecting him to hiss or shove her away. But instead, he freezes, eyes wide as he stares at her. For a moment, Awra cheers. “Looks like the mighty Neteyam has been outdone!” She gloats, running her hand up the queue again.

This time, he doubles over, clamping a hand over his mouth. He chokes out a cough, and for a moment, Awra panics. Had she gone too far? She hurriedly lets go of his queue, the long braided appendage falling into his lap as he straightens up. “Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

He’s blushing. Awra stops mid-sentence, and she feels her eyebrows raise into her hairline. Neteyam is blushing, a purple flush all over his cheeks and nose. He notices her staring and turns away, a mortified groan leaving his chest. “Neteyam?”

He just clears his throat again, looking at her with a forced smile. “Yeah?” He rasps. Awra fills a tingle run up her spine at the timbre of his voice. Is it me or did his voice just get deeper?

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to overstep.” She apologises, still staring at his purple cheeks. He smiles at her, an awkward one, and shakes his head.

“It’s okay, you didn’t. I was just shocked. What were we talking about?” He answers, avoiding eye contact. She looks at him incedulously. His cheeks are still flushed, and his tail is ramrod straight behind him; as if he’s stressed out or on high alert. Awra notices his fidgeting, and the way he can’t seem to look her in the eyes. Realisation sinks in all of a sudden, and she can’t help the impish grin from creeping onto her face. She covers her mouth with her hand, before slyly reaching for his queue again.

“That’s good, I was worried I was making you uncomfortable.” She starts, and he chokes again as she grabs hold of his queue. “Here, let me help you too. You’ve got sand in your hair.” As she says that, she drags her hand firmly up the queue, and down the length of it in two quick successions. Neteyam’s reaction is immediate: he bites down on his fingers again and leans over. What sounds like a choking cough follows, as he reaches with his other hand to snatch his queue away from her. Awra refuses to relent, and holds it even tighter.

“What’s wrong?” She asks coyly, still keeping a firm hold. He shakes his hand, but she can see his cheeks darken. She brings her hand up the queue again, and the reaction it elicits from Neteyam has her gut coiling. The Ometicayan boy whimpers, a soft shuddery sound that she almost misses. It makes her ears twitch, and she licks over her canines in her mouth.

“Stop, stop Awra.” He chokes out, and Awra relents. She lets go of his queue, and he grabs it before swinging it over his shoulder. “Eywa.” He mumbles, before straightening himself.

“What was that about?” She questions, feigning innocence. He stares at her, the flush still adorning his cheeks. He refuses to look at her, staring off into the vegetation behind her.

“Nothing, it was nothing.” He gasps out, rubbing a hand over his face.

“That was nothing?” She teases, and he groans in embarrassment.

“Awra, please.” She laughs, and he rolls his eyes at her. “Just forget you saw that, okay?”

Awra just giggles again, holding her own queue. “Never knew they were so sensitive. Interesting.” Neteyam’s eyes widen even further when he hears her, staring at her in shock.

“We’re not supposed to talk about that.” He mumbles, a shy smile on his face.

“Talk about what? Our queues?” She taunts, flipping her queue over her shoulder. She looks at him smugly, reaching over to pinch a flushed cheek. “You’re blushing so hard Neteyam, it’s cute.”

His breath hitches at that, and she smiles at his reaction. If only you knew, Neteyam. “Y’know, for a warrior, you’re surprisingly shy. It’s funny.” She says, watching him chuckle at her comment. He just shakes his head at her, and the banter dies down into a comfortable silence. Awra looks up at him through her eyelashes, only to see him staring at her; an unreadable expression on his face.

“Is there something on my face?” She asks, swiping at her cheeks self consciously. He doesn’t say anything, but moves himself closer to her. He’s sitting in face-to-face with her, their shins touching as his tail comes to rest on her thigh. It’s Awra’s turn to be flustered, and she leans away to put space between them. “What’re you–”

Neteyam leans forward, and then she’s kissing him.

For a moment, she doesn’t understand what’s going on. All she knows is she can smell his scent all around – a comforting mix of the forest and sea. And that his lips are soft, and pressed firmly against hers. And then, as quick as he came, Neteyam pulls away. Awra stays rooted to her spot, lips still tingling at the contact and very much in shock.

“What–” She gasps, looking at Neteyam. He looks shocked, like he hadn’t expected himself to do that either.

“Sorry–”

“What happened–”

They say at the same time, before Neteyam surges forward. “I’m sorry, Awra. I – I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.” He’s panicking, searching her face for any signs of disgust or anger. Awra just stares at him, blinking. “Awra? Awra!”

“Neteyam.” Is all she says in return, bringing a hand up to touch her lips. “Did you just kiss me?”

He looks guilty, ears flattened against his skull as he nods. “I’m sorry–”

“It’s okay. I…I liked it.” Awra whispers, still touching her lips. Neteyam’s eyes widen, and his shoulders slump in relief. “Give me a warning next time.” She adds, a small smile on her lips. He kissed me! He kissed me? She couldn’t believe what just happened. Neteyam had kissed her. He’d leant over and kissed her, on the mouth, out of nowhere. Neteyam. The Golden Child, Mr Perfect Ometicayan warrior. He’d kissed her.

“Are you sure? I’m not sure what I was thinking, I apologis. It was my fault, I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He’s rambling, kneeling in front of you as you stare at him. “Forgive me.” Awra blinks again, mind still a blank. She grabs his hands, lacing their fingers together as she climbs into his lap.

Neteyam freezes, falling backward as he looks at the girl climb into his lap. “Awra, wait. What–”

Awra just smiles shyly, before kissing him again. For a moment, he doesn’t move; just sitting frozen. His breathing is erratic, eyes wide open. She rolls her eyes at him, grabbing his hands from where they’re bracing on the ground behind him, and bringing them to her hips. “Hold here, silly.” His hands wrap around her hips, and she registers how large his palms are. They’re so big, and warm too. A warm tingle coils in her belly at the sensation of the callouses on his palms as he grips her waist, still tense and nervous.

“Wait–” He cuts in, tail flicking.

“Shush.” She interrupts, cupping his cheek. He stares at her, beautiful amber eyes dilated as he pants. “Open your mouth.” He hesitates, and she can see him fighting his instinct and responsibility. He seems to consider this for a moment, before his lids slide shut and he parts his lips. She smiles at that, sliding her tongue into his mouth and kisses him deeply. As she does so, her other hand comes to rest around his shoulders, stroking the lean column of his neck.

She feels Neteyam shudder as she licks the roof of his mouth, and warmth spreads from the base of her tail to her stomach. His hands stay firmly at her waist where she’d left them, trembling and leaving small indents in her skin. She smiles into the kiss, using a finger to trace his adam’s apple as she sucks on his tongue. He whimpers at that, tail curling around her thigh as he leans in towards her. She sighs at the contact, reaching down to move his hands from her hips to her back.

“You can move them you know? I’m giving you permission.” She whispers. His pupils dilate at that, but his hands don’t budge.

“Are – are you sure? Awra, I–” He starts, panting as he stares at her lips. She just smiles and nods, arching her back to get closer to him. He groans at that, a deep throaty sound that comes from his chest. She shuts her eyes, enjoying the contact before slotting her mouth over his again. He’s more vocal this time, sighing in pleasure as they part for air. His left hand slides from her waist to her back, before sliding up to rest between her shoulder blades. She shudders at the sensation, and lets him apply pressure between her shoulder blades to urge her closer to him. Awra licks over his canines, and he groans.

“God–” He whimpers, hand sliding down her back and coming to rest at the base of her tail. She whimpers at the sensation, sliding her own hands around his neck and bracing on his chest. He nibbles on her lower lip, and she lets out a keen when she feels his fangs dig ever so lightly into the plush of her lip. “Awra–”

She slides her hands down his chest, enjoying the feeling of smooth, firm muscle. He shivers, still licking into her mouth. When she reaches his stomach, she stops, pulling away from his mouth. He leans back, panting harshly as he licks the saliva off his lips. Her stomach feels warm, and all she can feel is him, him, him. His scent, his touch, the way he says her name. It’s intoxicating.

“How far do you want to go?” She hushes out, pecking him on the lips. He sighs, kissing her back as his hand slides to her waist again. Her mind feels like it’s hazy, and her body feels hot. “Neteyam?”

“I don’t know.” He rasps, voice hoarse. His voice sends a tickle up your spine. “But we should stop.” He gasps, but leans in to kiss her again. She whines into the kiss, hands dipping to rub the strip of skin above the strap of his loincloth.

He pulls away at that, gasping harshly. “Wait–”

Through lidded eyes, she lets one finger trace the length of his loincloth. He gasps again, eyes sliding closed as he shudders. He grabs her hands, forcing his eyes open. “Don’t, Awra, I–”

She slips one finger beneath the loincloth, dragging a blunt fingernail against his skin. He moans, hips bucking up. He tries to muffle his sounds with his forearm, his cheeks turning that wonderful hue of purple again. She smirks, withdrawing her finger and drawing circles into his stomach instead. “Eywa.” He chokes out, looking at her with furrowed brows. “We should stop here.” He repeats, grabbing her hands and bringing them away from his loincloth.

Awra pouts at that, but lets him manhandle him off her lap. He puts her down gently on the sand, avoiding eye contact. She can feel her body thrum with the intensity of their activities, and she curls into herself as he sets himself down next to her. He’s silent for a while, picking at the sand between them, before he breaks the silence. “We should talk about that.”

“Did you not want it?” She interrupts abruptly, looking away. Away from his body heat, she feels the chill of night set in. “Did you?”

Neteyam sighs, a deep tired sound. “I–I don’t know.” He mumbles. She swallows at his response, the air suddenly too suffocating between them.

“Then why’d you let me kiss you then?” She snaps, turning to glare at him. “Explain yourself.” He still avoids her eyes, looking down as he sighs again.

“I don’t have an answer, Awra.” He starts, voice trailing off. “I think I was just lost in the moment, and got carried away. I didn’t mean to do any of that.”

She feels her chest constrict at that, shame burning at the corners of her eyes. She feels small all of a sudden, and the urge to run away makes itself apparent. “Oh.” Is all she grits out, feeling her heart pound in her chest. What? There’s a lump in her throat, and she can feel her eyes stinging. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry Awra, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” Neteyam says, remorse flooding his voice. He turns to look at her, curled up and miserable. He reaches for her, but she flinches away violently. “Awra–”

“It’s fine. It’s fine, whatever.” She mutters, standing up and brushing the sand off her thighs aggressively. She can feel a tear make its way down her cheek, and she swipes at it furiously. Humiliation burns ferociously in her gut, and she wants to throw up. I have to get away. “I’m gonna go.”

“Wait, Awra! Wait–” Neteyam calls after her, but she picks up her pace, sprinting back towards the village. She feels stupid, skwng, like she’s made a fool out of herself. What have I done? What was I thinking? As she runs, she feels more tears leak out of her eye, and she stifles the sobs threatening to leave her as she nears her family’s marui pod. She hauls herself into the pod before collapsing into a heap near the entrance. She feels too exposed, too vulnerable. I let him touch me, put his hands on me. I told him to touch me. I’m an idiot. She chides herself, sobbing silently in the quiet of the night. What was I thinking?

She cries silently until her eyes are sore, and her eyelids swollen. She crawls onto a pile of bedding, curling into a fetal position. You’ve really outdone yourself this time, skwng, she thinks. Mother was right about him. I should have listened to her. I should have listened. She falls into a deep sleep, and dreams of nothing.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam avatar #neteyam sully #neteyam #avatar the movie #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #atwow #neteyam angst #neteyam fanfiction

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 3

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

“He’s been moping, just so you know.” Kiri says nonchalantly. “All sad and quiet.”

Awra rolls her eyes, picking through a bush for medicinal ferns. She had decided to head down to the sea pools to forage for herbs at dawn, and Kiri had asked to tag along. She’d been hesitant to agree at first, because she’d been dying for some time alone. But the Ometicayan girl was persistent, and simply picked up her basket and followed Awra away from the village.

“He says he’s fine, but it’s so obvious he isn’t.” Kiri repeats following a beat of silence. “You should really go talk to him.”

“Kiri please. There’s nothing to talk about.” Awra finally relents, placing a bundle of herbs into her basket. Kiri snorts at that, shooting Awra a wry smile as she stuffs a handful of herbs into a pouch secured to her loincloth.

“Sure. And him moping around after talking to you on the beach yesterday has nothing to do with you.” Awra frowns at her, but the Ometicayan girl simply shrugs sarcastically.

“Pick your herbs.” Awra retorts, and Kiri stifles a cheeky laugh. “And how do you know about that?”

Kiri just sticks her tongue out with a playful scowl. “Real mature Kiri.” Awra scoffs, as she flicks her tail at the Ometicayan girl. Kiri snickers at Awra’s irritation, swatting her tail back at the Metkayina playfully.

“It doesn’t matter how I know. All that matters is that my brother is a moping mess, and it’s getting on everyone’s nerves. And seeing as it’s your doing, you should go talk to him.” Kiri explains.

“He’s your brother”, Awra mumbles, “why can’t you talk to him.” Kiri just sighs dramatically.

“I have to look after Tuk, and keep Lo’ak out of trouble.” Kiri answers smoothly, reaching over and plucking a handful of greens out of the bush. “Besides, like I said, it’s kinda your fault he’s moping.”

“My fault?” You shriek indignantly. “I only told him to leave me be. I didn’t do anything wrong.” You sulk, sitting back on your haunches as you glare at the Ometicayan girl.

Kiri giggles at that, still foraging through a bush for leaves. “C’mon Awra, you can’t seriously be that dense.”

Your scowl deepens at her words. “Dense?” Kiri nods, wiping off her hands as she turns to face Awra.

“Dense.”

“How am I dense?” You argue, pushing back the frustration already bubbling in your gut. “I really don’t see how this is related, or how any of this is even my concern to begin with!” You pinch your nosebridge in exasperation and Kiri giggles again. She scooches over to you, placing a hand on your forearm and dragging it away from your face.

“My brother may be a mighty warrior,” she starts gently, “but he is afterall still a man. He likes you, Awra, and I’m surprised you don’t see it.” Kiri taps Awra’s nose before saying: “See? Dense.”

Awra scrunches her nose in annoyance, but silently glad that she’s away from the village and her’s mother’s prying ears for once. “Neteyam only sees me as a sister. Nothing more.” Kiri opens her mouth to say something, but Awra cuts her off hastily. “Anyway, my mother has forbidden this. I’m not to spend extra time around him outside of teaching or healing, it’s not allowed.”

Kiri’s smile drops. “Besides, I have duties to fulfill. I shouldn’t be wasting my time chasing romance when I have better things to do.” The last part comes out more like a hushed whisper, and Awra remembers her mother’s words from their conversation in your marui. I know you will do the right thing, my beloved.

“Like weaving baskets?” Comes Kiri’s reply, tinged with sarcasm. Awra snorts at that, smacking her arm lighty as she laughs.

“Yes, and I’ll have you know I love weaving baskets. It’s what I do.” Awra giggles at that, and Kiri sends a playful shove her way before getting up.

“Whatever you say, future Tsahik.” Kiri retorts, satire dripping off her tone. Awra rolls your eyes again, grabbing her basket and getting on her feet. “Just, please talk to Neteyam. For me. He’s so upset, nothing I say gets through to him. But I know he’ll listen to you, sisterly feelings or not.”

Awra groans, already getting ready to protest. Kiri senses her reluctance, and grabs Awra’s hands with a pleading look. “Please Awra? Just once is all I ask. Just let him know you’re not upset with him, and then he’ll stop being such a crybaby.”

Awra sighs agai, but softens at the thought of Neteyam all curled up and miserable in the Sully’s marui. Mighty Ometicayan hunter and future Olo’ eyktan, heaped in a miserable pile in his family’s marui pod. It’s adorable, and Awra finds herself smiling at the thought. “Fine, I will.” Kiri’s eyes light up at that. “But just one conversation. And I’ll still tell him to leave me alone.”

She nods eagerly, and Awra can’t help but chuckle at her excitement. “I’m so tired of watching him mope at home, you have no idea.” Kiri jokes, dragging the Metkayina girl towards the village. Awra stifles a cackle at that, grabbing her full basket and following the Ometicayan out of the sea pools.

“Oh yeah? Maybe you should tell him that then.” Awra says, walking elbow-to-elbow with the Ometicayan girl. It’s a warm day today, and Awra can see the village buzzing with activity from the distance. Hunters are getting ready to leave for a day of fishing, towing bows and spears behind them as they leap onto their ilu. Her mother was probably preparing salves or potions in your marui, and her father was likely busying himself with the other Ometicayans.

“I did, believe me I did. But his ears don’t seem to be working, unless you’re the one talking. It’s the worst thing about him really.” She says with no real scorn. “Sometimes I forget he’s just…him. With all that golden child stuff that he parades around with, I really thought he’d be less socially awkward sometimes.”

Awra chuckles. “Golden child huh. Must be nice to be so adored by everyone.”

Kiri shrugs at that. “I don’t know about adored. He’s always been likeable, sure, but sometimes I catch him mumbling to himself and he says…” She trails off, glancing down at the sand they’re walking on.

“Says?” Awra asks.

“Sometimes I hear him talk about himself in a really unkind way. And it confuses me.” Kiri admits, looking at you. You raise a questioning eyebrow at that.

“What does he say?”

“I couldn’t really hear most of it, but I know he hates the fact that he always has to be the responsible one out of all of us. Like taking the heat for Lo’ak or getting Tuk out of trouble. I think he wishes he could have enjoyed his childhood more like a child.” Kiri’s words sink deeper than expected, and reminds Awra of all the times she’d stayed up late wishing the same thing.

Kiri just sighs, squeezing Awra’s elbow tighter. “Yeah, but don’t tell him I told you any of this! He’d kill me.”

Awra just nods quietly, mind thrumming with Kiri’s words. I didn’t know Neteyam felt that way. It makes you feel worse about ignoring him that day on the beach. It probably fuelled the other unkind things he says about himself.

“I’m gonna go Awra, I’ve gotta go get Tuk home lunch before my mom gets upset! Don’t tell Neteyam what I said when you go see him later!” With that, Kiri bids farewell, jogging off towards where the hunting party is to find her ilu. Awra barely has time to wave goodbye before the Ometicayan is darting off.

As Awra starts the slow walk back to her own marui, still carrying her basket full of herbs, Kiri’s words echo in her mind. Her heart twists uncomfortably, and all she can think about is how guilty she feels for brushing the Ometicayan boy off on the beach yesterday. It isn’t my fault. How should I have known he felt that way about himself, she reasoned. If I’d known, I would have asked him to leave me be in a better way. But what’s a better way? Mother would be furious if she caught me being nice to him. God, this is so difficult.

She arrives at her family’s marui pod, climbing up and setting her basket down beside the central fireplace. Her family won’t be home until eclipse, making it the perfect time to sit around and ruminate over Kiri’s words.

I promised Kiri I’d speak to him…maybe I’ll tell him what happened yesterday was just a misunderstanding? But then I gave mother my word to stay away from him. She collapses back against a pile of bedding with a bregrudging sigh. Rationalising her feelings away obviously wasn’t going to work this time, and the only way to make herself feel better was to go over to the Sully marui and clear up this misunderstanding with the Ometicayan boy. If mother finds out, she’ll literally flay the skin off my bones, she reminds herself. Caution was going to be absolutely crucial, and she figures that it’ll be another night of trying (and hopefully not failing) to sneak out to talk to Neteyam at eclipse.

Outside her pod, she could hear the comforting sound of village life. I wonder what he’s doing now. Surely he wouldn’t be spending a perfect day moping inside his marui pod. But then again, after talking to Kiri, she wasn’t so sure she really knew Neteyam at all. That thought made her heart sink. I never really knew him. I liked him, or I said I liked him, but did I really? Or did I just like the idea of him? Frustrated, she rubs a hand over her eyes. Awra couldn’t help but wonder how much more exactly of Neteyam she still had no idea about. All the more reason to talk to him I guess. So much for staying away, Awra. You really outdid yourself this time.

Awra sighed from where she lay on the ground, limbs spread out. She glanced over at the entrance of the marui, and began devising an escape plan for later tonight. Eywa, let this work.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam avatar #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar the movie #neteyam sully #neteyam angst #neteyam fanfiction #atwow

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cryunderthewillowtree · 1 year

Text

Coral Streaks – Chapter 2

Related Warnings: Eventual Smut (Aged Up Characters), Language, Descriptions of assault, Harassment

Characters – Neteyam x Fem Metkayina!reader

Related Tags: Major Angst, Slow-Burn, Friends-To-Lovers, Heartache, Tension, Hurt/Comfort

[Do not interact with this story if you are underage.]

Awra keeps to herself for the next few days, busying her day with picking medicinal herbs in the nearby sea pools and weaving baskets to prepare for the hunting party. She hadn’t been speaking with her mother either – their last conversation sat heavy in her gut and reminded her that she was only here for one reason. And that reason was to fulfill her duty to the Metkayina people. It didn’t matter how she felt or what she wanted. What mattered was that she chose a warrior to become Olo‘ eyktan, and became his Tsahik. Her mother had made that much clear.

It would have been easy avoiding the forest Na’vi, if not for the fact that her father had assigned both herself and her younger sister Tsireya to look after the Ometicayans during their stay. It was near impossible to be around Neteyam without a sickly feeling of longing, or dread that her mother would be nearby, watching her. He had picked up on her distance, and sent questioning gazes her way; which she tried to ignore. Even as his siblings thundered down the shoreline, he had lingered behind. Awra knew he was waiting – waiting for her to break the silence, to acknowledge him; to say something. Instead, Awra turned away, picking up her weaving materials and walking upshore to her favourite weaving spot. She could feel him boring holes into her spine, but pursed her lips and did nothing.

Keep walking, she told herself. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around, Awra.

Eventually, she heard the soft crunch of footsteps in sand, indicating that the Ometicayan had walked away. She swallowed hard. She couldn’t silence the nagging voice in her head telling her to go to him; that she was hurting him by ignoring his presence. I’m sorry, Neteyam.

As she wove in silence, Awra couldn’t resist sneaking a few glances at Neteyam riding his ilu with his siblings in the water. She wanted nothing more than to join them in the water, but decided against it.

He’s going to resent me for ignoring him, she thought. I feel awful. Notch in, notch out, then under. She wove the pieces of seagrass in and under delicately, forming the securing notches by the base of the basket. I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the right –

“Awra.”

Awra startles, looking up to meet stern amber eyes. Neteyam is standing, dripping wet, in the sand in front of her, a perplexed expression on his face. Awra stares back, feeling herself get nervous as folds his arms over his chest.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He says simply, cocking his head. Awra chews on her lip, putting down her basket. “Not speaking with me, when you speak with others. And when you speak of me, you do so in such a cold way. What is wrong, Awra?”

“Nothing–”

“I said, what is wrong.” He interrupts. Awra feels uneasy, his hard glare is fixed on her face as he demands answers. “Awra–”

“I said nothing is wrong.” She bites back, baring her teeth. She stands up, head barely reaching his shoulders. He raises his eyebrows. “Stop questioning me. You’re not my father, Neteyam.” She surprises herself at the amount of venom she’d channeled in his name, taking a step backward.

A moment passes in tense silence. “Leave me be. I need to finish my weaving before the hunting party leaves tonight.”

He scoffs softly, looking at her half-woven basket incredulously. Awra frowns at that, already ready to counter his nonchanlance with something spiteful. “Seriously?”

Awra bites her tongue. I’m not going to say anything that I will regret, she tells herself. If I continue weaving, he’ll take the hint and leave me be. Taking a deep breath, she picks up her basket again, and continues weaving as Neteyam stares her down.

For a few beats, nothing happens. She can see the Ometicayan boy standing in front of her, but he doesn’t seem upset; just confused. He’s simply watching her weave, hands hanging limply at his sides. He’s still soaked, water dripping down his braids onto his chest and shoulders. She knows it must look ridiculous – a Metkayina girl weaving, while an Ometicayan stands in front of her silently, dripping wet.

Anytime now, she reassures herself. She feels her heart twinge when he turns away from her, seemingly about to walk away. But instead, he clicks his tongue and drops into a crouch in front of her. He’s at eye level now, and Awra stops weaving when she catches the look on his face.

The Ometicayan boy looks like he’s pleading, begging her to tell him what’s wrong. He almost looks like a kicked puppy, she notes. His large, round eyes are desperate, searching her face for answers. “Awra, please.” His ears turn down as he says so, flattening against his head.

She feels her heart flip at the way he says her name – all pretty and delicate like sea moss. “Awra, please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something to upset you? Eywa, just tell me what I did, I’ll fix it.” He pleads with her, snatching the basket out of her hands and tossing it aside.

“Hey–”

He grabs both her hands in his, palms large and warm. They engulf her hands completely, long fingers curled around her wrists. Awra feels her breath hitch at the unexpected contact, eyes darting between their clasped hands and his face.

“Awra. Tell me what’s wrong. I’ll fix it for you, whatever it is.” Neteyam says again, desperation bleeding into his voice. Awra swallows, heart beating as she can feel every callous in his palm where they rest against hers. He’s got pretty hands, all long and slim, she thinks. He’s rubbing over her knuckles in a way that’s supposed to soothe her, but instead she feels her heart soar with panic at the contact.

She pulls herself out of his grasp, seeing his face fall. “Awra–”

“Sorry Neteyam, sorry.” She grabs her basket hastily, the carefully woven notches unravelling in her panic. “I have to go. Sorry.”

“Awra, wait! Please–” Neteyam grabs her arm, knocking her off balance and she drops her basket and weaving materials in the sand. In a panic, she yanks her arm out of his grip. Her mother could be watching.

“Let go! I’ve gotta go, please just, let me be Neteyam. Please.” He looks devastated at her words, eyes glassy and wide. “I’m sorry.”

His hand falls to his side, and she takes off towards her marui without a second thought. She can still see his broken expression in her mind, clear as day. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. She hates the fact that she enjoyed that little physical contact they shared – even if it was just for a few seconds.

That night, she tried to commit to memory the way his hands had felt wrapped around hers. How his palms so easily dwarfed hers, his long slender fingers and the way they curled around her small wrists. The way he’d begged for her to stay, the way his eyes grew wide when she’d left him on the beach. Maybe, she tried convincing herself, maybe just the idea of him is enough for me. That night, she falls asleep dreaming of dark blue skin and golden eyes.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam avatar #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #atwow #neteyam sully #neteyam angst #neteyam fanfiction

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