I love Avatar ?!

ミ★𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭✫彡

༄ Hi! I'm just writing imagines or fanfics about the character of Avatar 😊

༺ 𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 :

Imagine Neteyam (Avatar) – Angst/Romance – One-shot – neteyamxfemomaticayareader

༇ 𝐋𝐨’𝐚𝐤 :

ミ★Lo'ak x Omaticaya Reader᯾

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Arriving with the Sully family in the Metkayina village was supposed to be a fresh start. But when Lo’ak seems a little too comfortable around Tsireya, an unfamiliar feeling begins to grow in your chest. Maybe the ocean isn’t the only thing new here.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : jealousy, insecurity, fluff ending

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : ~𝟏,𝟔𝐤

__________✧𖦹✧__________

The journey had been long.

When the mountains finally gave way to the endless blue, your breath caught in your throat. The ocean stretched as far as the eye could see, shining beneath the sun. The Metkayina were already there, lined up on the beach, straight and silent.

You were standing beside Lo’ak.

You always had been, actually.

The Sullys had decided to let you come with them. Because you were part of their lives.

Because Lo’ak couldn’t imagine being without you. And neither could you.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly toward you.

“Yes,” you replied. “It’s just… different.”

He nodded, then briefly placed his hand against yours. A small gesture. Quiet. Reassuring.

But your attention was drawn elsewhere.

A Metkayina girl stepped forward.

Tsireya.

Smiling. Calm. Beautiful in a way that almost didn’t seem real.

“Welcome to our home,” she said softly.

And Lo’ak smiled.

Not a polite smile.

Not an awkward one.

A real smile.

The kind he usually saved for you.

Your stomach twisted, and you didn’t really understand why.

“Hey,” Lo’ak replied. “This place is… incredible.”

“You’ll see,” Tsireya said. “The ocean always finds a way to calm you.”

Her gaze lingered on him—attentive, kind.

Too kind.

You shifted slightly without even realizing it.

“Y/n,” Kiri called behind you, “are you coming?”

“Yes,” you answered a little too quickly.

You watched Lo’ak from the corner of your eye. He was listening to Tsireya, laughing softly at something she said. He looked comfortable. Natural.

Like he already belonged here.

And you…

You suddenly felt like you didn’t.

Later, when you were settled near the marui, Lo’ak came to find you.

“You disappeared,” he said. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

He frowned slightly.

“You’ve been acting weird.”

“I’m tired, Lo’ak.”

A lie.

In the distance, Tsireya was laughing with Ao’nung.

And Lo’ak turned his head toward her.

Again.

Your chest tightened.

Why did it hurt so much?

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer.

“Look at me.”

You finally did.

“It’s just the beginning,” he murmured. “We’re here together, remember?”

You nodded.

But your eyes drifted back toward Tsireya despite yourself.

And Lo’ak saw it.

His smile faded slightly.

“Oh…” he breathed.

He had just understood.

__________𓆉__________

Night fell over the village.

Torches dimly lit the walkways, and the sound of the waves almost drowned out the voices. You were sitting near the water, your knees pulled against your chest, your gaze lost in the ocean.

You hadn’t moved for a while.

“Y/n.”

Lo’ak’s voice.

You didn’t answer right away.

He approached slowly and sat beside you, leaving a space between you.

Too much space.

On purpose.

“You’re jealous,” he said eventually.

Direct. No hesitation.

Typical Lo’ak.

You clenched your jaw.

“No.”

“Yes.”

You finally turned toward him.

“Why do you smile like that with her?” you blurted. “Why do you look at her like… like I’m not even there?”

He blinked, surprised.

“Tsireya? She’s just nice.”

“Too nice.”

“Y/n…”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t realize it affected you like that.”

“Because you didn’t even notice,” you shot back. “And that hurts even more.”

He moved closer then, closing the space between you.

“Look at me.”

You hesitated, then obeyed.

“I did smile,” he admitted. “Because everything is new here. Because I’m stressed. But do you know who I think about when everything feels too different?”

He gently placed his hand over yours.

“You.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Do you seriously think I could replace you?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

“Everything is new here. Even you.”

He frowned, then shook his head with a nervous smile.

“Then listen to me carefully,” he said. “I like Tsireya. But I love you.”

Silence.

“And if you ever doubt that,” he continued more softly, “tell me. Don’t make me guess.”

He rested his forehead against yours.

“Because I’ve never doubted us.”

Your eyes burned slightly.

“I was just scared of losing you.”

“Impossible,” he replied without hesitation.

He pressed a slow, sincere kiss to your forehead.

Behind you, a figure stopped.

Tsireya.

She watched for a moment, understood everything… then quietly looked away with a small, respectful smile.

Lo’ak didn’t see her.

But you did.

And for the first time since arriving, you finally felt like you belonged again.

__________𓆉__________

The next day, the village was lively.

The Metkayina gathered along the beach. Some trained in the water while others laughed near the huts. You walked beside Kiri, trying to enjoy the moment… but your gaze kept drifting back to Lo’ak.

He was with Ao’nung.

And Tsireya.

They were all laughing together. Nothing wrong. Nothing inappropriate.

But your heart still tightened.

“You know,” Kiri said softly, “when Lo’ak loves someone, it shows. And right now… it shows very clearly.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She smiled mischievously.

“Look.”

As if he had heard you, Lo’ak turned his head. His eyes found yours immediately.

His smile changed.

Softer. Realer.

He left Ao’nung without even excusing himself and walked over to you.

“Come,” he said simply, taking your hand.

“I want to show you something.”

“Hey!” Ao’nung protested. “We were in the middle of a conversation!”

“Later,” Lo’ak replied without turning around.

Tsireya watched the scene, then smiled too.

“Good luck,” she said calmly.

You followed Lo’ak to a quieter part of the lagoon. The water was clear and peaceful.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, stopping. “A lot.”

“That’s rare,” you teased with a small smile.

“Very funny.”

He took a deep breath and looked straight into your eyes.

“Here, everyone looks at me like I’m someone new. Like I could become someone else.”

Your heart pounded.

“But me,” he continued, “when everything around me changes… you’re the one I look for.”

He cupped your face in his hands.

“I don’t want you to doubt. Not here. Not anywhere.”

“Lo’ak…”

“It’s you, Y/n. Always.”

And this time he didn’t let you answer.

He kissed you.

A real kiss. Confident. Not rushed, but certain.

His hands stayed against your cheeks, grounding you there with him. You kissed him back without hesitation, forgetting everything else.

When you finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours.

“If anyone has a problem with that,” he said softly, “they’ll have to go through me.”

You laughed, your heart light.

“You’re such an idiot.”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “But I’m your idiot.”

In the distance, Ao’nung made an exaggerated noise.

“OKAY! MESSAGE RECEIVED! NO NEED TO DO THAT IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE VILLAGE!”

Tsireya laughed softly beside him.

And for the first time since your arrival, you weren’t jealous anymore.

You were sure.

Because Lo’ak was there.

With you.

And he had never been clearer.

__________✧𖦹✧__________

༄neteyamxfemomaticayareader꡴

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : heavy angst, emotional conflict, argument, separation, hurt no comfort (for now), mentions of war, hurt/comfort (later)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Growing up between two worlds, you and Neteyam always believed you were destined for each other until war forces him to leave, and you must choose between love and home.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : This is the first time I write on tumblr, so sorry if it's not perfect 😭

~𝟓𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

__________✧𖦹✧__________

Pandora had never been silent.

Even at night, the forest breathed. Leaves trembled beneath the wind, insects sang, and the luminescent roots pulsed softly under your feet. Here, everything had a soul. Everything was alive.

And it was home.

You paused for a moment near the Tree of Souls, lifting your gaze to the tangled vines above. You knew this path by heart. Every turn. Every raised root. Every scent.

You were Y/n.

Daughter of Norm Spellman.

And of a Na’vi woman of the Omaticaya clan.

You weren’t quite like the others.

Your hands had five fingers. Faint eyebrows framed your gaze. Small details — but enough to remind everyone of your different heritage. The one some still called, in hushed voices, demon blood.

But here, in the forest…

You were home.

The Omaticaya had watched you grow. Run barefoot between the trees. Fall. Rise again.

Learn. They no longer looked at you as a stranger, but as one of their own.

And above all…

There was him.

Neteyam Sully.

You found him near the training clearing, as often. His bow rested against his shoulder, his expression focused as he adjusted his stance.

Every movement precise. Controlled.

The future Olo’eyktan.

The perfect son.

The warrior.

“You’re going to wear your bow out,” you said as you approached.

He turned his head toward you, surprised… then his features softened instantly.

“I could say the same about you and the forest,” he replied with a faint smile.

You sat beside him without asking permission. You never needed to.

Between you, everything had always been simple.

Since childhood.

Since shared training sessions.

Since the glances exchanged when no one was watching.

People often joked that you were made for each other. Like something obvious.

As if Eywa herself had drawn your paths to meet.

And you had believed it.

“You’re somewhere else today,” he noticed.

“So are you.”

He sighed softly.

“The humans are looking for my family. We’re leaving.”

The words echoed heavily between you.

“Where?” you whispered.

“We don’t know yet.”

Silence. Dense. Heavy.

“Come with us, Y/n.”

You looked up at him, surprised… and yet, you had expected it.

“Neteyam…”

“You’d be safe. With us. With me.”

His eyes never left yours. There was hope in them. And fear he was trying to hide.

Your heart tightened.

“My home is here,” you answered softly. “The forest, my family… it’s all I’ve ever known.”

“And me?” he asked, quieter.

That question shattered you.

“You’re in my heart,” you replied.

Sincerely. “But leaving… it would mean giving up a part of myself.”

His jaw clenched. You saw it. The disappointment. The hurt.

“I understand,” he finally said.

But his voice wasn’t convincing.

In the distance, Lo’ak was already calling. Departure was close.

Neteyam stood.

“I have to go.”

“Neteyam…”

He paused for a moment, his back turned.

“We always said we were destined,” you murmured. “That hasn’t changed… has it?”

He didn’t answer.

too big.

When he left, the forest suddenly felt…

And for the first time in your life, Pandora felt incomplete.

The village was in motion at dawn.

The Omaticaya were preparing to leave in a heavy silence, as if everyone was holding their breath. Ikrans stirred restlessly, weapons were checked one last time, bags tied carefully.

Everyone knew.

Everyone was leaving.

Except you.

You watched from the shadow of a tree, your heart tight in your chest. You had searched for him the moment you woke up. Instinctively. Like always.

Neteyam.

He was there. Standing beside Jake, upright, focused, already in his role. The eldest son. The warrior. The one who never falters.

But when your eyes met his…

He looked away.

As if you weren’t there.

You frowned slightly. That wasn’t like him. Even hurt, Neteyam had never ignored you. Not truly.

You stepped closer.

“Neteyam.”

Nothing.

He continued fastening his gear, movements precise, almost mechanical.

“Neteyam,” you repeated, louder.

He finally turned toward you. Slowly. His face was closed off. Too calm.

“Do you need something?” he asked.

The words hit you like a blow.

Something?

“I… wanted to talk to you,” you answered, unsettled.

“This isn’t the time.”

“That’s exactly why it is.”

He inhaled deeply, as if holding himself back.

“We’ve already talked, Y/n.”

“No,” you whispered. “We haven’t said anything.”

A heavy silence settled between you. Around you, the clan continued moving, but everything felt blurred. Distant.

“You made your choice,” he finally said, not quite looking at you. “I respect that.”

“Respecting isn’t understanding,” you replied softly.

His jaw tightened.

“You wanted to stay. I’m leaving. There’s nothing more to add.”

“Neteyam… you know it’s not that simple.”

He finally lifted his eyes to yours. And this time, you saw the anger there. Not explosive.

Cold.

Controlled.

Far more dangerous.

“Yes,” he answered. “It is.”

The words burned in your chest.

“You’re acting like I’m abandoning you.”

“You are,” he shot back, without thinking.

The silence that followed was brutal.

“That’s not true…” you murmured.

He looked away, as if he almost regretted it… but too late.

“I have to go.”

He walked past you, so close you felt the warmth of his body — yet he didn’t touch you.

“Neteyam…” you pleaded.

He stopped for a second. Just one. You thought he might turn around. Say something.

Anything.

But he didn’t.

“Take care of the forest,” he said simply.

“That’s what you chose.”

Then he left.

You remained frozen, unable to move, your heart in pieces. You watched the Sullys move away — Lo’ak mounting his ikran, Kiri casting one last worried glance back.

And Neteyam…

He didn’t turn around.

When the beating of wings disappeared into the sky, the forest suddenly felt too quiet.

You placed a hand against your chest.

It wasn’t just a goodbye.

It was an open wound.

The forest hadn’t changed.

The leaves still glowed at night. The roots pulsed beneath your steps. The animals continued their songs as if nothing had happened.

And yet, for you, everything was different.

You kept living. You helped. You hunted.

You smiled when you had to. But every movement felt automatic, as if your mind was somewhere else.

There are absences that take up too much space.

Neteyam had been gone for several moons now, and you had thought time would eventually soften the emptiness. That staying here, surrounded by everything you loved, would be enough.

But the more days passed, the heavier his absence became.

You avoided certain places without even realizing it.

The clearing where you used to train together.

The path leading to the river, where you sometimes sat in silence.

Memories came back without warning.

One evening, you stopped beside an ancient tree, pressing your forehead against its bark.

“I miss you…” you whispered, not even knowing who you were truly speaking to.

To him.

Or to the version of yourself who still laughed without effort.

At home, the atmosphere had changed too. Your mother often watched you in silence, as if searching for the right words. Your father, Norm, tried to pretend everything was fine…

But you saw it.

One night, as the stars softly illuminated the forest, he finally spoke.

“You’re not really here anymore, Y/n.”

You didn’t protest.

“I thought staying was the right decision,” you answered quietly. “That the forest would be enough.”

“The forest is your home,” he said calmly. “But it’s not all that you are.”

You lowered your gaze.

“I’m scared,” you admitted. “Scared to leave. Scared to regret it.”

He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“You’re not abandoning the forest by following your heart. And you’re not abandoning your family either.”

Silence settled between you, peaceful this time.

“You’re meant to walk beside him,” he added eventually. “Not to fade away here while waiting.”

Those words echoed inside you long after he had left.

That night, you didn’t sleep.

You watched the vines sway gently, the sky shimmering above you. And for the first time, the idea of leaving no longer felt like betrayal.

But like necessity.

“Forgive me, Eywa,” you murmured. “I have to go where my heart still beats.”

The next morning, your decision was made.

You were going to join them.

Not because the forest wasn’t enough anymore.

But because without him, even Pandora felt incomplete.

The ocean stretched endlessly before you.

The water was an almost unreal shade of blue, the waves calm, the wind heavy with salt. Nothing like the forest. Nothing like what you had always known.

When you finally set foot on the shores of the Metkayina, your heart was beating too fast.

You had joined them.

After all this time.

After all those nights of hesitation.

Tuk threw herself at you, happy to see you again. The rest of the family greeted you as well.

But your eyes searched for his immediately.

Neteyam was there.

Standing beside his family, posture straight, expression closed off. He had changed. His features seemed sharper, his gaze more distant.

When his eyes landed on you, your breath caught.

For a fraction of a second, you thought you saw surprise there.

Then… nothing.

He looked away.

As if he didn’t know you.

You stepped closer, hesitant, ignoring the glances already settling on you. Some curious.

Others wary.

Your five-fingered hands hadn’t gone unnoticed. Neither had your eyebrows.

“Neteyam…” you breathed.

He finally turned toward you. Slowly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

His voice was flat. Devoid of warmth.

“I came to join you.”

A short, humorless laugh escaped him.

“Join me?”

His eyes moved over you, as if searching for something… or someone.

“You said your place was in the forest.”

Every word was precise. Sharp.

“Yes, but—”

“No,” he cut you off harshly. “You made your choice.”

Around you, the Metkayina were already murmuring.

“Another one with demon blood…”

“She’s not really Na’vi.”

Your stomach twisted.

“Neteyam, I didn’t come here to—”

“To what, exactly?” he interrupted, colder still. “Reassure yourself? Ease your conscience?”

Your eyes blurred with tears.

“I came because I miss you.”

You had repeated those words dozens of times in your head. You thought they would change something.

They didn’t.

“That’s not my problem anymore,” he replied. “You wanted to stay there. So stay there.”

The words struck you like a slap.

“You don’t really mean that…” you whispered.

He stepped closer, close enough for you to feel his restrained anger.

“Yes, Y/n. I do.”

He straightened.

“Here, you’re a stranger. And I don’t have time to deal with your regrets.”

Then he turned away.

Without a single glance back.

You remained frozen on the sand, the sound of the waves barely drowning out the whispers around you.

“Demon blood…” someone muttered.

You lowered your gaze, your throat tight.

You had left the forest for him.

And he had just left you alone in the middle of a world that did not want you.

The days that followed were long.

You did your best to make yourself invisible. You helped when asked.

You observed, you learned. You spoke little. Too little.

Not all the Metkayina were hostile.

Some simply ignored you. Others watched you with curiosity mixed with suspicion.

But there were some who didn’t bother hiding it.

“Careful with her hands,” a young warrior sneered. “They’re not like ours.”

Muted laughter followed.

You clenched your fists, keeping your gaze lowered.

You had heard worse. Much worse. But here, far from everything you knew, every word felt heavier.

Neteyam was there.

Not far.

You knew it. You felt his presence like a burn between your shoulder blades. He wasn’t looking at you. At least, that’s what he wanted people to believe.

“They say humans destroy everything they touch,” another continued. “Maybe she’ll do the same here.”

This time, you lifted your head.

“I’ve never—”

“Silence,” someone snapped. “You’re not home here.”

It hurt too much.

And that’s when it happened.

“That’s enough.”

Neteyam’s voice cracked through the air like thunder.

Everyone froze.

He stepped forward slowly, shoulders tense, gaze hard. This was no longer the cold, distant Neteyam of the past few days.

This was the warrior.

The son of Toruk Makto.

“Are you finished,” he said, staring down those who were still laughing, “or do you still need to prove how little honor you have?”

“We were just talking…” one of them muttered.

Neteyam took another step closer.

“You talk too much.”

Silence fell, heavy.

“She is under my protection.”

The words echoed loudly. Too loudly.

You stared at him, stunned.

“Neteyam…” you whispered.

He didn’t look at you.

“If anyone has something to say about her blood, her hands, or her place here… say it to me.”

No one answered.

Eyes dropped. Laughter disappeared.

When they finally scattered, he remained there.

Still. Fists clenched.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He turned to you abruptly.

“Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“I wasn’t going to let them humiliate you like that,” he replied sharply. “It has nothing to do with you.”

A bitter laugh escaped you.

“Everything has always had something to do with me, Neteyam.”

He hesitated. Just a fraction of a second.

Then the mask returned.

“Be careful,” he said finally. “Not everyone here is like in the forest.”

And he left.

Again.

But this time, you didn’t feel completely alone.

Because deep down, you knew.

If he truly didn’t care…

He would have never raised his voice for you.

Night had fallen over the Metkayina village.

Torches cast a soft glow over the huts, the ocean calm, almost deceptively so. Everything seemed peaceful… but your mind was not.

You were sitting alone by the water, knees drawn to your chest. The events of the day replayed endlessly in your thoughts.

The looks. The words. And above all…

Neteyam.

His voice.

The look in his eyes when he had faced the others.

That instinctive protection he had tried to deny.

You heard footsteps behind you.

You didn’t turn right away. You already knew who it was.

“You should sleep,” he finally said.

His voice was lower. Less harsh.

“You too,” you replied simply.

Silence settled between you. Long, tense, but different. The raw anger was gone. What remained was something fragile. Dangerous.

“What I did today…” he began.

You turned toward him.

“You didn’t have to.”

His jaw tightened.

“Yes.”

The word came out sharper than he intended.

“Neteyam,” you said softly, “you can’t push me away… and protect me like I’m still yours.”

He closed his eyes for a moment.

“You think this is easy?” he murmured. “You think I haven’t spent every night wondering if you were okay?”

You slowly stood, facing him.

“Then why did you do that back there?

Why did you speak to me like I didn’t matter anymore?”

He inhaled deeply. When he opened his eyes again, they shone with an emotion he no longer tried to hide.

“Because I was afraid.”

The words stole your breath.

“Afraid you would leave again. Afraid you would regret coming. Afraid you would always choose the forest… and never me.”

His voice trembled slightly.

“I told myself that if I pushed you away, it would hurt less. That if I pretended you didn’t matter anymore… I would survive.”

Your heart tightened painfully.

“Neteyam…” you breathed.

“I was unfair. Cruel. And I regret it.”

He stepped closer, hesitant, as if still giving you the chance to move away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t leave with you right away,” you said. “But I’m here now. And I didn’t come just to leave again.”

He lifted his hand, not touching you yet.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“More than ever.”

Then he pulled you into his arms.

It wasn’t rough. Nor possessive.

It was trembling, almost clumsy, as if he feared you might disappear if he held you too tightly.

You buried your face against his chest.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered.

He closed his eyes, holding you a little closer.

“I never stopped loving you.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you. His hands framed your face. His forehead rested against yours.

“If you stay… I promise I won’t push you away again.”

“Then kiss me,” you answered simply.

The kiss was slow. Filled with everything that had never been said. His lips were warm, reassuring, like a promise finally kept.

When you parted, he was smiling softly.