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TWMTDW Ch 3 - Miles’ POV

summary: The events of the beginning pt 3, but Miles’ point of view (3rd person).

warnings: grief?

A/N: This was the thingy that I cut out of the last chapter because I had no idea where to fit it. So I made it it’s own supplementary thing!

Miles had left his lunch in the counselor’s office to sprint to the rooftop. Someone was playing jazz music next door; Ella Fitzgerald. He remembers the melody from somewhere, but the title is escaping him.

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teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2

summary: miles is not exactly a productive work partner

wc: ~800

A/N: not much plot movement here, but a tiny bit of exposition sort of. Miles will calm down in the following chapters...maybe 🥴

prev. next

"Oh Miles? He's in some of my AP classes. Honor student," Your friend's voice filtered through your phone speakers while on the FaceTime call. She popped a potato chip in her mouth as she sat in bed and sniffled, at home with a nasty cold.

"I've heard his name before. I think his dad died, that true?"

"Yeah, a couple years ago. Say he used to be really sweet, and now he don't talk no more."

"That's sad," you remark. "Maybe that's why I'm only seeing him now."

"You actually saw him in class?!?"

Your friend's face was the picture of disbelief, eyes wide as saucers as if this was a rare event.

"Yeah, he's my partner for the week cuz you decided to go and get yo ass sick!" you explained, dramatically jabbing a finger at your phone screen.

"It's not my fault that kid from AP Chem sneezed on me, damn!"

"He's really smart, but his attitude fucking sucks. He draws good, though," you think out loud.

“It’s just a week, sis, give it four more days, you’ll be fine.”

“You’d better hope so, for your sake.”

-

The following afternoon saw you asking around, trying to piece together a picture of this kid that everyone simultaneously knew and didn’t know. By the time lunchtime ended and Ms. Jones’ calculus class rolled around, you had heard the following:

‘Almost flunked out of school…on purpose’.

‘Did graffiti on the school walls once.’

‘Freakishly quiet’.

‘Secretly joined a gang’.

That last bit made your stomach turn a little as you approached your new temporary seat. Sure enough, Miles was already slouched at his desk, twirling that same pen between his fingers like a drumstick. You didn’t bother to say ‘hi’ this time. He didn’t bother to look up, either.

Miles didn’t say a word during the lecture portion of class, not even to answer questions. Would explain why you’d hardly noticed him until this week.

As the heavy-set math teacher scanned the classroom, she frequently craned her neck and made brief eye contact with Miles, but never cold-called him.

Her skin was a chestnut shade, and she kept her dark hair pinned back in a tight, slick bun. The way she pressed her lips together as she moved on suggested that they’d been through this before, and she'd be sorely disappointed.

When her lecture ended, Miles suddenly stood to his full height.

You weren’t able to tell by the way he sat, but the boy was quite lanky. Even with his awkwardly-broad shoulders slumped, he likely was a half a head taller than you. Ms. Jones stopped her slow pacing around the classroom and sighed.

“Miles, sweetie, what did I say yesterday?”

Miles looked up at the ceiling and sighed in exasperation before plopping back down into his chair. He raised his hand as if it pained him to do so.

“Yes, Mr. Morales?”

“May I please use the restroom?”

A few snickers could be heard erupting around the classroom, and the woman rolled her eyes. An innocent smile was plastered over Miles’ face, revealing two deep dimples in his cheeks. If the smile had actually reached his eyes, you would’ve thought he was cute.

“Go ahead,” Jones relented.

The boy dropped the smile and noisily pushed his chair aside; As he shot back up from his seat and strolled past your desk towards the door, Jones narrowed her eyes at him.

“Hold it. Sir, where are your glasses?”

Miles stopped in his tracks, groaning loudly.

“Oh my god, I don’t need glasses to go potty, Ms. Jones. I can aim, I promise.”

“Make sure you put them on as soon as you get back, your mother told me to remind you. Go,” Jones said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Uh-huh, thank you, ma’am!” The boy was already in the hallway, letting the door slam behind him.

Today's partner work was just a packet of long equations to simplify, so you were only mildly irritated that Miles never seemed to return from his impromptu bathroom trip until the last fifteen minutes of class.

You looked up as he sauntered over to his desk, hands in his pockets.

“Where were you? Class is almost over,” you demanded.

Miles ignored you and sat down, picking up his pen to work at a long string of equations at lightning speed.

Suddenly, you reached over and snapped your fingers in front of him. The boy looked up with his lips curled into a grimace.

"What's good witchu? You got through the work, didn't you?" Miles hissed in a low whisper to avoid catching Ms. Jones' attention.

You frowned deeply. "And what if I didn't? I'd be struggling while you were off running around the damn school-"

"I needed time to myself," he interrupted. "To think."

" 'Think' about what?"

"Personal shit," Miles resumed his problem-solving. "Any more questions, officer?"

The school bell rang, pulling from you a sigh of relief that you wouldn't have to see him again for another 24 hours.

to love you the best I can || miles morales

warning/s: arguing, descriptions of injury, use of unprofessional medical tools.

a/n: there is one sentence in spanish here, I used a lot of posts people made on here about adding spanish to write it. it's literally just four words but it could still be wrong so please let me know so I can change it if ever. ( ˘ ³˘)♥

"You know, if you think about it I'm kind of helping you further your education," Miles joked through a grimace as you cleaned the gash on his chest with nothing more but a freshly laundered shirt and  warm soapy water.

He was laying on his bed with the top of his suit removed, and you were kneeling on the floor at his side. The look you gave him was enough to make him wince more.

"You're not funny Morales," you hissed, your tone juxtaposing the way you wiped the blood off him. The wounds weren't even that deep, there were just so many of them.

And that's what made you almost shake as you worked.

"I'm sorry," is all he can say as he looks at you, dead focused on his chest, your lip between your teeth, and tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

Your worry only became more clear to him as your head snapped up at him.

"Well you should be sorry," you almost growled, dipping the shirt in the now pink water.

"I thought you called me to hangout," you said, shaking the shirt before ringing it out.

'"Not play doctor," you glared at him, resuming your cleaning for emphasis.

"You could have at least told me that you were hurt so I could've brought the right things to help you!" You said, a little too loud this time, gesturing  to the other shirt on his bedside table. 

Beside it was a pair of scissors that you were gonna use to cut it up into makeshift bandages.

"Hey tone it down a bit," he whispered, trying to get up only to be stopped by a sudden jolt of pain before he continued.

"My parents are still asleep."

"Maybe I want them to hear," you tell him, placing your hand on his chest to push him back on the bed gently. 

"At least your mom would actually know what she's doing," you sighed, moving on to the smaller gashes on his stomach that he didn't even know was there.

"Seriously Miles, just because I help at the clinic does not mean I'm medically trained."

"I'm sorry," he said again, hands moving to grasp at the bedsheets. His chest was on fire, for more reasons than one.

"I didn't know who else to call."

"Well if you were gonna call you should've at least told me the real reason why you did," you said through clenched teeth.

"Don't give me that I miss you bullshit."

"I didn't want you to come here worried," he explained, his hand moving to stop your wiping, and inevitably your shaking. That's when you finally looked back up at him.

"Miles," you breathed.

"It's my job to worry about you."

This is when the dam broke. Choked sobs began to escape your lips, and the shaking of your hands moved up to your shoulders.

Miles' eyes began to glaze over at the sight.

"No matter what," you said in between breaths.

"I will always worry, because I love you," your lips quivered as you placed the shirt in the bowl so you could hold Miles's hands in yours completely.

This made his chest tighten.

"So please, if you're hurt like this. Or if anything else happens and you need me, just tell me right away, tell me the truth right away," you practically begged, moving up on your knees so your eyes locked with his honey brown hues.

 "So I can help the best I can," you explained, bringing his hands to your lips, kissing them despite your constant shakes.

His throat began to burn at your actions.

"So I can love you the best I can," you ended, a new round of tears trailing down your cheeks.

"Okay, Miles?"

The room stood silent for a second, and you searched him for confirmation. But all he gave you was a look you've never seen before, and that scared you.

"Miles?" You repeated, the shake in your voice becoming worse.

And he nods, closing his eyes as tears begin to trickle down his cheeks and under his chin. 

Your gaze instantly softened.

"Oh, ligaya," your voice rasped as you gently moved to straddle his waist, avoiding his wounds as you did despite your shaking.

You had dropped his hands and brought yours to his cheeks, wiping away his tears gently with the pads of your thumbs. You tried so desperately to calm yourself down so you could comfort him. 

And he knew that. It only made his cries worse as he tried to look away from you. But you held him firmly, the best you could, placing your forehead on his.

"I'm sorry" you cooed, bringing your fingers to his ears, pinching them gently and rubbing smooth circles behind them. 

"I'm not mad," you whispered.

"I was just scared."

"No, I know," he finally responded, a slight crack to his voice. He moved up to your level, despite your efforts to stop the strain. 

He needed to do this.

"It's okay, I was too," he explained, opening his eyes and now wiping your tears that still spilled down your cheeks despite yourself.

He hated himself for causing them.

"Thank you so much for this," he tells you, even though he knew it wasn't enough. It would never be, but he'd try to make it for you.

"Thank you for being here for me," he took a deep breath, moving back to place a kiss on your nose before placing his forehead back on yours.

"I promise to be more honest with you about the spider stuff," he swore, moving away so he could look you in the eyes.

"I love you, so much," he said, making his voice crack again. 

You gave him a smile that told him it was okay. You were okay. 

You both would be okay.

"Te necesito, mi tesoro," he whispered, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, and he smiled as you placed a gentle kiss on it.

"I don't know what that means," you chuckled, voice still raspy, but now better as you stopped shaking.

"But thank you."

He echoed your chuckle, now placing his cheek on your shoulder, turning to kiss below your ear before he translated his words.

"I need you, my treasure," he whispered, beginning to trail his fingers up and down your spine.

And you hugged him back while still keeping a safe distance between you.

You both stayed there in silence for a while, basking in each other's presence. You breathed in each other's scent and memorised the way your bodies felt curved into one another.

You would have stayed there forever if you didn't still have a job to do.

"Let me finish cleaning you up," you said, pulling away from him.

"I just need to do one final wipe and I'll wrap them up. And I guess I have to stay the night to monitor you," you began to ramble as you transversed through all the medical knowledge you knew.

"You might run a fever and I wanna be here if you do. But hopefully you don't because things can only go downhill from there," your voice has suddenly become panicky, and Miles was quick to calm you down this time. 

"Staying the night," he said with a teasing tone, hand moving down to your waist, squeezing the curve softly.

"Are you flirting with me doctor?" He quirked a playful brow.

"I heard it's wrong to mess around with patients."

"Shut up," you smiled, making his efforts not for naught.

"Don't tell me you don't like my bedside manner," you played along.

"Well actually you could be doing better if I'm being honest."

"Oh please," you rolled your, moving to get off of him, and his hands chased you to pull you back, but you gave him a scalding look as you picked the shirt from the bowl.

"Let me finish this up okay, so you can finally get some rest," you bargained as he began to pout.

"I'll lay next to you of course," you added, making him smile once more.

"Alright babe," he sighed, watching you ring the shirt out for the final time.

"I'm all yours."

And he was, and always will be. 

As he watched you wipe him down with the utmost care, sweat dripping on your brow, and tear streaks on your cheeks, he silently promised you that he'd be better. That he'd treat you the way you deserve. That he'd love you the best he can.

let me know what you think hehe

“white boy of the month” this, “white boy of the month” that—well this month we simply have The Boy, and it’s jimmy liu from american born chinese

Do you have any thoughts on "American Born Chinese"

Okay so I haven't seen the recent film but I have read the comic by Gene Luen Yang and quite enjoyed it! While I know AAPI kids are the main target and focus of this work, I think it did a good job of both delving into childhood/young adult triumphs and insecurities from the Asian American perspective, as well as in forcing everyone to confront the really ugly stereotypes that have long influenced how "real" (i.e. white) Americans think about and act towards AAPI communities & what affects these stereotypes have had on how members of said communities think about themselves. I thought it presented a pretty interesting take on the Monkey King as well: here Sun Wukong's journey isn't about transforming himself into a god, but about accepting what he is (a monkey) and finding strength and even enlightenment in that. In this way the Monkey King becomes a figure for the protagonist Jin Wang--who goes to some pretty extreme lengths to try and "fit in" with his white peers--to also understand that he's hurting himself and his friends by trying to "ascend" into something he's not, and that he can find true happiness by being authentically himself, no matter how much others may look down on him. It's also kind of funny in a deliberately uncomfortable way too because the way Sun Wukong gets Jin Wang to do this is by attacking him in the form of "Chin-Kee"--basically a walking racist stereotype--until Jin Wang fights back and punches his head off. It's only then that the Monkey King reveals his true form which had been hiding behind the stereotype.

Also you have to love the page of Sun Wukong's parting words to Jin Wang:

So I saw American Born Chinese on Disney. And honestly the things I thought I wouldn’t like about it were valid, but they had nothing to do with its objective quality. I was upset that this was supposed to be a big step for Asian representation in mainstream media but it was just another kung fu/Chinese mythology flick. But then IT WAS KIND OF THE POINT. They actually TALK about the part where Hollywood will only cast Asians as ninjas or as bit parts and how hard Hollywood is on Asians in particular and how harmful it is to representation. They talk about how growing up we wanted to see ourselves as the hero - not necessarily some superhero but just someone who went out into the world with hope and courage. They talk about how people are dismissive and condescending to us because we’re different. They talk about how we’re hard working and achievement driven because we have to be or risk never being seen at all. And they talk about how sometimes hard work isn’t enough if it’s never seen or heard (sometimes).

Look, I am always hard on Disney for a lot of things. Like how their priorities are real mixed up and it meant we had to wait this long before the Asian community could get to this point. But honestly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for finally getting there - for finally giving us a voice. For saying the things I’ve been trying to say. For making me finally feel like I’ve been seen and heard.

teamwork (makes the dream work...?)

genre: enemies to lovers I guess? I'm bad at these 😭

summary: one week, your usual work partner is absent, so instead you are seated next to a genius with attitude problems. it happens.

wc: ~500

A/N: if i can manage to be consistent for once, this will probably be a series because I haven't done one in a while. pls feel free to leave your reactions in the tags or comments! happy reading 🫶🏾

next

Sunlight filtered through the large classroom window. Usually, you'd be seated right by it, letting the rays warm your face in the air-conditioned room.

Not today. Your usual partner was out sick, so you were moved to the back of the classroom. Blocking out the sunshine was the silhouette of a boy you had only seen in the hallways once or twice. He had deep brown skin, with two neat cornrows cascading down either side of his neck and brushing his shoulders. You also made out an undercut, faded cleanly beneath the braids. There was a case meant for holding glasses sitting at the front of his desk, but no spectacles sitting on his prominent nose. 

The boy was bent over his worksheet already, arm covering the page.

"Hey," you said with a pleasant upturn in your voice. A full thirty seconds passed. He didn't answer, so you try again.

"Um, excuse me-"

"I heard you." 

The boy kept his eyes on his desk, brows knitted together with focus. He was making broad, sharp strokes with his pencil. His elbow moved for a moment, revealing not a sheet of math problems, but a piece of printer paper filled with intricate geometric designs. Precise lines come together to create the form of a caped figure. It has large, mechanical claws and a mask with sharp, wide eyes.

"That's a cool drawing," you commented. The boy's shoulders jumped to his ears as if he'd been caught before dropping back down. He finally looked up from the page and paused. Wide, brown eyes flickered across your face, trying to determine what to make of you.

"Thanks," was all that the boy said before returning to his sketching. It wasn't long before you interrupted him again.

"You not gonna finish your work?"

"I'm already done, that's why Ms. Jones put me back here and let me rock."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me," you muttered to yourself. 

You messed with the sleeve of your royal blue uniform blazer in silence, weighing your options. Ms. Jones wasn't going to let you turn in another incomplete assignment, and this kid couldn't even be assed to say 'hello'. A deep sigh escapes your lips.

"Can I get your name, at least?"

The boy set his pen down with a slam, and looked up at you as if he'd just been asked what color the sky was.

"Morales," he deadpanned, with a slight roll on the 'r'. 

"Which Morales?"

"Miles."

You hummed in slight recognition, having heard the name somewhere before, murmured next to you in passing.

"You Dominican?"

"Puerto Rican."

"Oh, cool."

"M-hm." 

He picked up his pen again and began to twirl it between his pointer and middle finger, but held your gaze. You looked like you were finally about to get to the actual question.

"Well, Morales," you began with a smile.

Here it comes.

"Since you're done, can you help me with-"

"No."

You scoffed, "What's the point of being partners, then?"

Miles had already returned to his original position, scribbling away. He didn't look at you, this time.

"We not partners, ma."

...And so began the longest school week of your life.

THIS ENTIRE FIC JUST MADE MY DAY 100x BETTER!!

Exceeding It All

Jake Sully x Daughter!Reader

@missdreamofendless : "I’ve always wanted to see something with Jake and his newborn daughter, I just think it would be adorable"

^ thanks for the idea love !

enjoyyyyyy <3

. *. ⋆

Within the confines of the elders' quarters, Neytiri was in the process of giving life to you. Pacing frantically, Jake struggled to check his emotions as he awaited the birth of his third child. His two sons, Neteyam and Lo'ak, were being watched by other members of the clan. Though it was the middle of the night, far into the hours of eclipse, adrenaline kept Jake wide awake.

Neteyam and Lo'ak had both been quick births. However, tonight, Jake's mind raced as he noted how much longer you were taking.

Was everything okay? Was there a complication? Was Neytiri alright?

It took all of his strength not to burst into the tent. He'd already interrupted the elders four previous times. He knew that--should he make it a fifth--that they would be far from pleased with him.

As he tried to control his breathing, he looked down at his hands, dusting them at his sides.

Were his hands clean enough to hold you? What if he infected you with something and got you sick?

Frowning, Jake shook his head. He'd already done this twice before. Why was he so nervous with this one? What was different? Searching his mind for an explanation, he couldn't help falling into a cycle of affectionate thoughts.

What would you be like? Would he have another son to accompany his two others?

Relaxing a bit, Jake chuckled to himself as he envisioned three rowdy boys padding through the forest. Then, looking down at his hands, he finally made up his mind.

"Yeah, I should go wash up," he whispered to himself.

As he prepared to leave, a faint jakesully caused him to halt his movements. Turning around, he was met with the sight of Mo'at, holding the entrance beads back with one hand.

After a moment's silence, Jake finally spoke. "Mo'at?" Jake asked breathlessly.

"It is time," she replied, before nodding towards the inside of the tent, "Come."

For a moment, Jake stared at her, mouth agape and eyes wide. Then, swallowing thickly, he brushed his hands over his torso before sucking in a breath. With a small smile, Mo'at waited for Jake to approach the entrance before turning around and walking inside.

As Jake's heart pounded in his ears, he pulled the beads aside before stepping into the fire-lit quarters. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust--for he'd been relying on the bioluminescent lighting of the forest outside. Once they did, he spotted Neytiri's limp figure. Eyes closed, she was taking deep breaths as exhaustion crossed her expression. Moving quickly, Jake kneeled by her side, cupping her face in the process.

"Baby?" he whispered, rubbing a thumb over her cheek.

"Let her rest, Jakesully," Mo'at instructed, "She has just been relieved of the burden of birthing your daughter."

"I kno--" Jake spun around, eyebrows creased as his mouth fell agape. "Daughter?"

Mo'at raised her eyebrows. "Yes," she answered, "Eywa has blessed you with a daughter."

Sticking her hand out, Mo'at gestured towards two other elders. They were two women, both sitting on the floor, backs to him. After standing up, moving at a careful pace, Jake stepped towards the women. Feeling his presence behind them, one of them glanced back, meeting his gaze before scooting to the side. As she did so, he was finally given a view of you, his daughter.

Your small body was lying on a weaved blanket. Small, nearly inconceivable, noises were coming from your tiny lips. Instantly, Jake was taken back to the births of his two sons. Both boys had been loud babies, crying as soon as they'd reached the world.

But you, you were quiet. Your coos grew softer as your legs kicked out. Then, reaching out, your small hands grew agitated--reaching out for a purpose that was unknown to you.

Jake, however, was fully aware of that purpose. An aching paternal instinct fueled his heart with a fierce protectiveness that had never been so strong before.

Your eyes were closed. You had entered the world only minutes before. And yet, your newborn instincts could already recognize someone of your own blood. The small fibers in your body felt his presence and knew to reach out for him.

"Oh my," he breathed.

Gingerly, the woman sitting closest to him scooped you up. Jake had little time to register the moment before you were being handed to him. Sucking in a breath, Jake reached his hands out, cupping your back and head.

Quickly realizing this was an awkward grip, he readjusted himself to cradle you. Leaning back slightly, he released his breath as he tucked your head into the crook of his arm. Though he was capable of supporting you with one arm--given that you were just that small--he tucked his other arm beneath you for extra security.

Daughter, his mind echoed.

For a long moment, he remained silent as he gazed down at you. He hadn't realized that his mouth had fallen agape until his throat grew dry. Closing his mouth, he forced a swallow before nearly panicking as your eyes popped open.

Jake blinked, feeling his heart race as he held your gaze for the very first time. However, as your fresh gaze morphed from sudden-alertness to curiosity, Jake's demeanor softened, as well.

After releasing a long exhale, he finally broke the silence. "Wow," he spoke breathlessly, feeling a small smile tug at his lips, "Hey, baby girl. There you are."

"Were you expecting another son?" Mo'at asked, raising an eyebrow as a smile tugged at her lips.

"I don't know what I was expecting," Jake answered distractedly, never ripping his gaze from you, "but this . . . God, this exceeds everything. Every expectation I ever had. She exceeds everything."

As a small whimper escaped your lips, Jake frowned, instinctively searching your body.

"She's uncomfortable," Mo'at explained as Jake gently bounced you, "Fresh out of the womb, her body temperature is still warm. We must bathe her now."

"Let me," Jake spoke up, a little too harshly.

The women grew silent, staring at him. Jake's gaze shifted between the three of them before correcting himself.

"I mean . . . I never got to bathe my sons. It would be greatly appreciated if you would do me the honor of allowing me to bathe my firstborn daughter."

The two women looked to Mo'at. Lips pressed together, Mo'at scrutinized Jake's possessive grip on your small frame. After a few more moments of silence, she released a sigh before nodding once.

"Very well," she agreed, "but I will instruct you on how to conduct this properly first."

. *. ⋆

"Okay," Jake breathed, gently lying your body against the carefully-arranged leaves, "Alright."

Releasing his grip from behind your head, Jake began arranging the bathing supplies. In a militant manner, he repeated Mo'at's steps within his mind.

However, after a few minutes of feeling the absence of his hands from your body, a small whimper escaped your lips. Immediately, Jake turned his attention from the soap and ointment, focusing his sharp gaze on you.

"Hm?" he hummed, reaching out to take your small hands between his pointer and thumb fingers, "Hey . . . hey, baby. Easy, sweetheart, I'm here. I have you."

Upon feeling his touch, your whimpers dissolved. A smile tugged at Jake's lips as he caught on to your desire to remain close to him.

"Yeah," he whispered, nodding slightly, "I've got you."

Leaning down, he placed a light kiss on your forehead. Then, turning his attention back to the soap and ointment, he continued to organize them, keeping a loose grip on one of your hands as he did so.

When he was satisfied, he released a breath before giving you his full attention, once again. Turning to face you, he returned his grip to both of your hands. He rubbed his thumbs over your skin as he spoke in a hushed tone.

"Okay, baby girl," he began, "you wanna do me a favor and make this easy for me? It'll be better for the both of us in the long run."

Cooing softly, you held his gaze before tugging your hands from his grip. Hands outward, you reached for his face.

A tender smile pulled at his lips as a fond expression crossed his face. Leaning down, he allowed your hands to hover over his cheekbones. Then, closing the distance, he gently pressed his forehead against yours.

A delighted coo left your lips, before a giggle followed it. Jake, who had temporarily closed his eyes, snapped them open. Leaning back, he gave himself a full view of your tiny face. A smile danced on your lips as you giggled up at him.

Shaking his head, he placed two kisses on your forehead. He followed them with two kisses on your cheek.

"You're so beautiful. You're such a--"

He interrupted himself, placing two kisses on your stomach, eliciting giggles from you. "Such a pretty girl," he finished.

As you quieted, he kept his gaze trained on you. "Alright," he rasped, gently wrapping his hands around you, "Let's do this."

Carefully lifting you, he positioned you over a carefully carved bathtub, which was filled with soft shrubs and lukewarm water. A soft pillow, which had been folded together from a leaf, laid at the edge of the tub---giving cushion for your head to rest on above the water. Gingerly, he lowered you into the water, holding his breath as he awaited your reaction. To his relief, the slight change in environment didn't seem to disturb you.

Puffing his cheeks out, he released a breath. "Okay . . ." he whispered, trying to bury his apprehension.

He knew from experience that his babies could sense his emotions, and the last thing he wanted to do was make you nervous. After releasing you, allowing you to grow accustomed to the water, he grabbed a cloth and the first soap.

Your curious eyes watched his movements, as he dipped the cloth into the water before soaking it with soap. After placing the soap down, he turned his attention back to you. Meeting your eyes, a small smile tugged at his lips.

Tilting his head slightly, he spoke up. "Alright," he whispered, lowering the cloth to your skin, "let's start with this little belly, shall we?"

With a feather-light touch, he moved the cloth in circular motions against your skin. The combination of his motions, and the water, relieved your overheated body. A small smile tugged at your little lips as you cooed up at him, enjoying the sensation.

He smiled, a playful glint evident in his gaze. "There's that smile," he said softly, "Is this what you needed, baby? Feels nice, doesn't it?"

Your legs kicked briefly in response. As he began to move to your arms, gently grabbing your little limbs and washing them, he continued to talk to you.

"Guess it makes sense that you'd be pretty warm and uncomfortable after being in the womb for so long," he whispered, before meeting your eyes, once again, "but you're here now, aren't you? As beautiful as ever."

He moved to your legs, gently running the cloth over your soft skin. “I gotta tell ya, you were quite the little surprise,” he continued, “but that isn’t your doing. That was all on me. It’s like I forgot there was a possibility that I could have a little girl.”

When you eyed him curiously, he chuckled. “Aw, cut your daddy a little slack. After having two sons, it’s easy to just expect another one.”

Finally, he slowly poured water over you, washing the soap off. “But I’m so glad that I got you, baby girl," he finished, a small smile tugging at his lips, "You were the last thing I ever expected and the best thing I could've had."

He remained attentive to your every move as he finished washing you. Then, gripping you carefully, he lifted you from the water and placed you on a large, warm cloth. His eyes grew distant as he spoke.

"Never really thought about having a daughter, but now that I have you, I think I subconsciously wanted one all along."

He releases a breath through his nose before locking eyes with you. A content expression crossed your face as you squirmed slightly.

"Ah!" you said, responding to his string of sentences that you had yet to understand.

He chuckled, nodding his head. "That's right, baby," he replied, leaning closer to you, "I'm talking about you."

Gripping the sides of the towel, he dried your damp body with gentle pats. Then, shifting his gaze for a moment, he grabbed the ointment before placing it next to your little body.

"Okay," he breathed, "The hard part is over. Now, we just gotta lotion you up."

Dipping his fingers into the cup of ointment, he scooped up a generous amount before rubbing it together in his palms.

Watching his movements---with fresh eyes that marveled at everything---you found humor in his actions. A giggle escaped your lips as your eyes zeroed in on his hands, observing him rubbing them together.

Jake paused his actions, glancing down at you. He raised an eyebrow before briefly rubbing his hands together for a moment, testing your reaction. When he paused his actions, another giggle escaped your lips.

He let out a brief chuckle, furrowing his eyebrows in curiosity and slight confusion. Then, he rubbed his hands together again, before pulling them apart and showing you the ointment on his palms, wiggling his fingers to flaunt the liquid texture.

His actions elicited a fresh wave of giggles on your part. Chuckling softly, he glanced at his hands before looking back at you.

"Is that funny, baby girl?" Jake asked, affection seeping through his tone, "Do you like seeing Daddy struggle with pampering you?"

You cooed in response, a small smile still dancing on your lips. He shook his head, smiling softly as he lowered his hands to your body. With a tender touch, his fingers moved in circular motions over your smooth skin, massaging in the moisturizing liquid.

When he went to get another scoop of liquid, he made a show out of his hand movements, exaggerating each rub and wiggling his fingers in the air. To his delight, this sent you into a fit of laughter.

He tilted his head back in laughter before tilting his head. "This is really gettin' you goin', isn't it?" he asked, "I can't help wondering what you find so amusing about this . . . but I guess it doesn't really matter. If it makes you laugh, I'll do it all night."

Once he finished moisturizing you, he swaddled you in a light blanket, making sure you wouldn't grow too warm. Finally content, he lifted you into his hands and cradled you in his arms.

"There we go," he whispered, adjusting you slightly, "How's that, sweet girl?"

Your eyelids grew heavy as you blinked up at him. Still awestruck by your existence, he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaning back to take you in. Once he began rocking you, it didn't take long for you to nod off in his arms.

"A daughter," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief, "A daughter that's all mine."

As he held you, he reflected on what having a little girl would entail---the journey that was ahead. Though Neteyam and Lo'ak were still young, he never had a second thought about who their future partners would be. His mind had never lingered on what teenage girls might find them intriguing during their adolescent years. And yet, as he stared down at you, his little girl, he was overwhelmed with a strong wave of possessiveness as he pictured your adolescent years.

No boy would come near you. No boy would touch you. He would make sure of it.

Jake's mind grew still as he caught himself in the midst of these racing thoughts. This was new territory for him.

You were his little girl. As he thought about how he would go about raising you, his instincts veered from what he'd done with his sons. Of course, he wanted you to be strong, and to know how to defend yourself, but that instinct wasn't at the forefront of his mind---like it was for his sons.

Instead, more than anything, he wanted to . . . shield you. He wanted to hold you close and keep you away from harm. He wanted to see you blissfully pad through the forest and marvel at Eywa's creations, just like your mother. He didn't want to see you fight---not if you didn't have to.

Jake made a vow to himself. He promised to not only protect you, but to remain in tune with your emotional state. He knew that raising his tender baby girl would require different approach---compared to how he was raising his two rowdy boys.

"I'm here for you, baby girl," Jake whispered, brushing a thumb over your cheek, "Always."

. *. ⋆

omgggg I finally put this out! thank you so so much for your patience, and a special thank you to all of you that have remained loyal, continued to check in, and/or simply stuck around for me! I cherish you all and I hope you are all doing well and having a great summer!

as usual, let me know what your thought are about this! it's been awhile since I've delved into this universe, so if anything comes off a little rusty, I apologize!

anyways, all my love!

hugs and kisses x.

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𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ✧˚ · . 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒊

‣ Pairing: Adult!Neteyam (20) x Fem!Omatikaya Reader (19) ‣ Warnings: Mentions of weapons, death, biting, blood and a teensy mention of vomiting. ‣ Word Count: 3.4k ‣ A/N: The wait is finally over! I want to thank everyone for being so patient, I know this took a while to write but I had to make sure I was in the right space before starting. I'm not going to pretend to understand the timeline of this movie, especially as we don't have Ronal's belly to go by at this point so let's just pretend that the timeline makes sense. This part includes some canon scenes (and another shocking attempt at writing action) with a little bit of creative liberties taken, I didn't want to go into too much detail of something we've all probably read 100 times. I know I've gotten tired of reading the same dialogue over and over again. I also wrote half of this on some strong cold medicine so as always I'll be back in the morning to do an extra proofread. Enjoy and let me know what you think besties. English is in bold italics all other dialogue is in Na'vi. ‣ Na'vi word bank: tìyawn - love, skxawng - moron, sa'nu - mum, eywa'eveng - pandora, uniltìrantokx - dreamwalker, ftang - stop, kä - go

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"What are they doing?"

You squeeze your eyes closed, pressing your face further into the surface below you as the light penetrates your eyelids, threatening to wake you from your slumber too soon. It does little to block out the high voice that rings through your tent but the warmth beneath you easily swallows your body, the soft rise and fall inviting you to slip back to sleep.

"Maybe they were fighting and knocked each other out?” The second agitating, grating voice is determined to not allow your rest. You grumble into the warmth, in hope that the owner of the voice would get the hint and leave before you had no choice to resort to violence.

”Lo'ak, don't be ridiculous." The third voice causes the warmth to unwrap itself from you, it shifts underneath you and all you can do is tighten your hold around it, keeping the heat from further escaping you.

"Oh shut up Kiri, like you can come up with a better explanation for this."

Something vibrates beneath your face, your peace finally ripped away from you and any attempt to return to your slumber thwarted once two of the intruding voices begin their squabble and the warmth groans and stretches out beneath you. Eyelashes flutter against the blue chest as you give in and blink away the sleep in your eyes.

“Lo’ak, dad said to leave them be.” Tuk calls out to her brother, solidifying her position as your favourite Sully with their father placing a close second.  

“If he wanted us to leave them alone, he shouldn’t have told us where Neteyam was.”

Whatever fatigue that lingers in your body leaves, your eyes snapping open as your reality hits you. Of where you are, of who is underneath you and how you got there. You roll off Neteyam’s chest, as if putting distance between you now would undo the damage of being caught. An explanation is at the tip of your tongue when you sit up, until your skull collides with something hard and you fall backwards, the head splitting pain stinging at the corner of your eyes.

“Shit.” A solid form catches you, a hand reaching from behind you to press at your forehead as if the firm hold had any hope of dulling the pain. Your eyes open, tears being stemmed by your rapid blinking as you find Lo’ak in a similar state of agony, clutching at his head and letting out howls that would rival a wounded Nantang.

You had never understood what Jake meant when he claimed Lo’ak had a thick skull until now.

“Lo’ak you skxawng! What were you doing standing over me?” A well-aimed kicked to the shin earns another howl from the big baby and a sharp tap to your already tender forehead alerts you to the continued presence of your least favourite Sully. His hand returning to soothe the area once he’d admonished you for your attack on his brother.

He was making it worse, so much worse. You freeze to the spot, a warm chest pressed against your back, an arm wrapped around your waist. The same arm that had spent the night holding you close. A decision made with little thought to the consequences it would have, the desire for comfort overpowering your good sense when you’d allowed him to pull you onto the sleeping mat and intertwine your bodies.

The consequences you were now facing as the three other Sully’s stared at you and their brother. Tuk with bewilderment. Kiri who was making a poor attempt at hiding her laughter behind her palm. And Lo’ak. Oh, Lo’ak who had only stopped his performance of agony to look at you and his older brother with nothing other than a look of horror on his face.

“Me?! What was I doing? I was trying to make sure you were okay. What were you doing?” He gestures frantically and the two of you, mouth opening and closing a few times before he can put together another sentence to express his confusion. “WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING HER?”

Neteyam’s hands release their hold on you, lifting in a gesture of surrender as you finally gather some sense to move your body away from him. You had found it far too easy to lean into his touch when it had become one that soothed instead of caused pain. A betrayal of your body to your mind as you felt yourself missing the feeling of his digits pressed against your skin. You were going mad, it was certain. You needed one of those mind doctors that Norm spoke of and Lo’ak’s face only confirmed that.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this baby brother.” Neteyam stands, reaching out an arm to help his brother to his feet, the gesture accepted with a narrowing of eyes. “Yesterday was tough and y/n was hurt trying to help me, I came to check on her. We just fell asleep while we were talking.”

“Oh yes, and grandmother always advises cuddling to aid the healing process.” Kiri, the only one who seems to both understand and enjoy this conversation, sits next to you in the space recently vacated by her brother.

“Not helping.” You whine, bumping your shoulder against hers.

“Not trying to.” She meets your shoulder with a nudge of her own, and you fix her with a glare that has little annoyance behind it. Kiri at least would lose interest soon enough and her teasing would cease. Lo’ak on the other hand, you could already see the questions forming in his mind, ones you would be forced to answer if you wished for him to drop it. You couldn’t blame him, not really. Not when the last true interaction between you and his brother that he had witnessed was an attempt to cause harm. An attempt that had since been achieved in other ways that you certainly didn’t want your best friend finding out about.

“Are you all better now y/n?” Tuk asks and you open your arms to accept her into your lap, her little arms finding their way around your middle as snuggled into your body. “Mom says I give the best hugs!”

You can’t help but squeeze her until she squeaks in complaint, a muffled “Too tight!” Coming from where you have her smothered in your grasp.

“I’m so much better now Tuk-Tuk, your sa’nu is right. You give the best hugs ever.” You release her from your arms, fixing her braids that you had messed up.

“So much better than Neteyam’s, right?” You ignore Kiri’s snort, looking up to find the aforementioned staring right at you. His tail flicking with amusement, he raises his brows to encourage you to answer the question. Your ears fold back and you hope your face doesn’t give away the heat that rushes to it under his gaze.  

“Yes Tuk, so much better than Neteyam’s.” It’s a blessing from Eywa herself that you manage to hold his gaze before he breaks the impromptu staring competition himself, his low chuckle echoing through the tent as he turns and rests his hand on his brother’s head.

“I better go and check in with dad. Have fun cleaning out the ikran.” He gives Lo’ak’s head a gentle push as he turns to leave, earning him a scowl as he departs your Marui.

“Well good luck with that, auntie already told him where you were!” You might have fainted if it weren’t for your body resting against Kiri’s. Your mother having seen you was a given, though you hadn’t much thought to it until now, but she’d told Jake? Tuk’s earlier statement that he had told them to leave you alone suddenly made sense. You would never be able to look him in the eye again knowing the assumptions he must have about what you were doing. Assumptions that bordered on being correct. You had no time to spiral any further when the absence of his brother to blame had Lo’ak turning on you.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Tuk, keep up!”

“Bro, why’d you bring her anyway.”

“She’s such a crybaby! She’s all, I’m telling, you’re not supposed to go to the battlefield. I’ll tell mom if you don’t let me come.” You and Kiri come to the youngest’s defence at the same time. Kiri sticking to words but you reach forward to flick Lo’ak on the forehead, which he still claimed to be sore, earning a yelp from him and a giggle from Tuk from behind you.

As you got older, the ban on visiting the battlefield had been seen as more of a suggestion to you, Spider and Lo’ak. You were adults, one of the people in yours and Lo’ak’s case. Not that you’d ever brave sharing your adventures with Jake because while as a father he had to respect that you were grown, as your Olo’eyktan his word was still law.

Bringing Tuk was maybe a step too far, one that you might’ve argued against any other day, but you needed an escape. An escape from the confines of High Camp and any chance that Neteyam might return and attempt a further conversation. This new Neteyam that showed you smattering of the gentleness he treated his family with and served to only muddle your brain even more. You’d sooner go back to the years of snarky remarks or even the weeks in which he ignored you after taking what he wanted. That Neteyam made sense to you.

“Are there any dead bodies up there?”

Eywa’eveng had staked claim on what once invaded her land. The aircraft had now become part of the forest, the vines entwined with its metal husk and moss growing on its propellers. You follow Lo’ak’s lead in scaling the metal husk, confirming the lack of dead bodies before you allow Tuk to follow.

You were cutting it fine to get back to High Camp before eclipse, as you always did. Kiri had wandered off leaving Spider to follow in search of her before you could return.  

“What is it?” Kiri questions as Lo’ak strays from the path, crouching to examine whatever he has noticed in the mud. Urging Tuk to stay where she is, you jump down beside him and Spider, brows furrowing when you find what he spotted. Boot prints, large boot prints. Lo’ak vocalises your realisation before you can.

“These are way too big to be human.”

“Avatars?” Spider questions, and you meet Lo’ak’s eyes. You don’t have to speak to know that he has already realised what you have. Whoever had been here, they were not yours.  

You pull your knife from its sheath, staying a few paces behind Spider and Lo’ak as they follow the tracks. You gesture for Kiri and Tuk to stay close, pressing a finger to your lips to indicate that they should be quiet. The tracks were fresh, whoever they belonged to were still close by.

You cursed yourself for declining to bring your bow as you found the source of the prints, four that you could see as they searched the old shack that you had been told under no uncertain terms you were not to visit. You held Tuk close to your side, declining to follow as Spider and Lo’ak moved to get a closer look. Risking too much movement was not a good idea, not when you had Tuk with you and only two of you held weapons that didn’t need to be used at close range. You were good with your knife, but it would be useless when faced with a gun. The boy’s return and Lo’ak makes the call to his father, dooming all of you to endless lectures and your worst punishments yet.

“Son, you listen to me very carefully. You pull back right now. Do not make a sound.” You hear Jake’s orders through Kiri’s earpiece, pressing Tuk tighter into your side. “Move, you copy?”

“Yes sir, moving out.”

“See, I told you.”

You push the siblings forward, taking the rear as you follow Jake’s orders. Your chest tightens around the fear that rampages your pounding heart, you could’ve prevented this. If you had not been so concerned with escaping the consequences of your choices you might have been able to convince Lo’ak that this was not a good idea, that you should not have brought Tuk with you. But you had been selfish, thought only of yourself and now you were all in danger. The little girl you held only hours after her birth was in danger.

“It’s almost eclipse, come on.”

The trees part and little Tuk is swept up faster than any of you can respond, Spider and Lo’ak each pointlessly nocking an arrow as more figures emerge through the trees with threats to shoot. You hiss, stance ready to pounce until you see Tuk desperately pulling at the hands that held her queue tight in her hands, crying out for Kiri.

You drop your knife, hands raised in surrender as you allow one of the uniltìrantokx to take a hold of your arms. Despite your obedience your knees are kicked from under you, and for the second time today your skull explodes in agony when the soldier wraps your queue around his hands and pulls. Your mouth fills with copper as you catch your tongue between your teeth, doing all you can not to hiss as you watch Kiri, Lo’ak and Spider be similarly manhandled.  

"What have we here?" The man has a marking of a bird on his arm, one you think you have seen before on a screen in the lab before Norm would tell you to go play outside. Bird man steps into the circle, observing you each in turn, his eyes lingering on Spider longer than the rest of you.

"Colonel, check it out. Four fingers. We got a half breed." Kiri’s hand is raised for bird man, or ‘colonel’ to see. His jaw tightens as he looks at her before he turns on Lo’ak.

"Show me your fingers." You let out a shaky breath as Lo’ak flips him off, something you’d learned as children from Spider. It was disrespectful Jake had told you when he caught you it to Neteyam. But the colonel doesn’t seem offended, doesn’t lash out. Instead he laughs. "You're his, aren't you?" Lo’ak hisses. “You’re his, alright.” He pulls Lo’ak up by his queue and tears swell at the corner of your eyes at the sound of his pained grunts as he tried to look strong, at Tuk’s cries for her brother. "Where is he?"

"Sorry, I don't speak English… to assholes."

"Where is your father?"  His Na’vi broken, but it’s clear enough who he is looking for. Lo’ak says nothing, a warrior in his own right, he would give away nothing to protect his father. None of you would, even when the colonel pulls out his knife.

"Really? You wanna play it this way?" Kiri’s cries not to hurt her brother grab his attention and Lo’ak is discarded as he rounds on the elder Sully.

"Kiri, no! Stop!" Lo’ak barely gets an inch closer to his sister before he is pulled back by his queue.

“Ftang!” You cry out, tears finally fulfilling their threat to spill as the colonel advances on your sister. The hand behind you tightens around your queue, sending white spots through your vision.

"Hey, don't touch her!" It’s Spider who stops the colonel in his tracks, as he tugs against his captor.

"What's your name kid?" The colonel asks.

"Spider… Socorro." Spider’s captor is shooed away and the colonel bends a knee in front of him, his face softens, absent of any of the vitriol in which he’d eyed any of you na’vi with.

"Miles?" You hadn’t heard anyone call Spider that in years, often you forgot that his preferred nickname wasn’t his given name. Your brows furrow, searching Spider’s face for any sign that he knew how this uniltìrantokx knew his name. You found nothing in his expression but disgust.

"Nobody calls me that."

"I'll be damned. I figured they sent you back to earth."

"You can't put babies in cryo dipshit." The colonel signals for Spider to be restrained again and presses a hand to the comm around his throat.

"Iron sky, blue on actual. We're standing by for extraction. Over. Be advised, we're bringing in high value prisoners."

"Heads up, three minutes."

Your tail sways nervously behind you as the colonel announces the latest time frame. With each announcement, as they had the five of you lined up held securely ready for extraction, you became less sure that Jake would make it to you in time. Your wrists were tied, the soldier holding onto you had one hand on your queue, another on his gun and you knew that you had failed to protect your family. Would they take you to their city? Separate you and hide you behind their metal walls where Jake and Neytiri could not find you?

Your ears twitch. The familiar hoot echoing throughout the trees, a look shared with Tuk confirming that she had heard it too. Their mother was here. You adjust your stance, getting ready for further signal from the Tsakarem. Kiri utters a soft prayer from where she is held behind you and you hear her groan in pain before all hell breaks loose. 

“Contact rear!”

You’re yanked back by your queue as the dreamwalker holding you turns to fire his weapon, the pain splitting through your skull as you try to keep your balance without your hands to help you. The soldier that had hold of Kiri and Spider is dead on the ground at your feet, an arrow protruding from his head.

“Lo’ak!” Neytiri calls to her son from her hiding spot and you lose him and Tuk in a puff of yellow smoke. You wasted no time in ensuring your own escape by sinking your teeth into the arm that held you, releasing your hold once your mouth filled with blood and his grip went slack.

“Kä!” You cry out to Spider and Kiri as you run towards them, pushing them away from the gunfire and into the forest. Your escape is hindered when Kiri is yanked back by her braid, only for a moment before, her mother’s arrow loosing from the trees impales the demon and you move ahead again.

Adrenaline pounds through your veins and you run through the forest, the copper taste on your tongue threatening to bring your stomach contents up. But you don’t have time for that, you have to run, you have to get away to make sure you don’t leave your mother alone. To make sure that Kiri and Spider get home safely and find Tuk and Lo’ak and know that they’re okay.

The heat hits your back before you realise there’s been an explosion, the shock is enough to knock you off your feet and you don’t even realise that you were not the only one affected until you hear Kiri calling out for Spider.

Neytiri finds you, pulling a resistant Kiri away from the edge Spider had fallen from. You hear her call your name, urging you to follow as she drags her daughter away, but you don’t really hear her. Not as you scramble to the edge and see your friends weakened form being lifted from the ground by the colonel.

You’re pulled from the ground before you can even make your move to climb down, strong arms wrapping around your waist as they tug you away from the edge. You cry out, kicking and scratching, doing anything you can to release yourself from your captor until his voice rumbles in your ears.

“Stop Tìyawn!”

“Let me go!” You demand of him, he can’t do this to you. He isn’t this cruel. He can’t make you watch as they take your Spider away. “Please.” You beg as the dam breaks, your tears flowing freely, salt mixing in with copper as they reach the corners of your mouth. His hold only gets tighter, arms wrapping around your shoulder to still your movements.

“There’s nothing you can do for him, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispers in your ear and lowers you both to the ground, releasing his hold on your shoulders as he reaches for his knife and unbinds your wrists. You know he speaks the truth as you watch the aircraft ascend, taking away any hope of getting to Spider.

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Far From Home

Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

Obsessive!Prowler!Miles Morales x Spidergirl!Reader

Warning(s): slight violence, nothing too crazy

The adrenaline pumped through your veins profosley. As you and Miles traveled through the multiverse, your hands intertwined, somewhere sling the line, a rift shook the two of you apart. And once separated you screamed for Miles to him.

“Bug! Bug! Miles!” you yelped being thrown into the room. Miles’ room. But he wasn’t here! He must have been sent to the wrong dimension! Your panting breaths filled the silent room as you looked around. What could you do? Your hands trembled as you tapped the watch, whispering your thanks to Hobie as you located where you were.

“Earth…42…” your eyes widened. Miles was home….but where were you. 

From the cracked door you could hear the front door open and see the flicker of light. Ms.Morales’ voice mumbled spanish into the empty apartment and her footsteps grew close to the door. Quickly you latched onto the ceiling, pressing yourself as close as possible. Thankfully she neglected to cut the lights on. 

“Ay, this boy…” she huffed, shaking her head grabbing the unclean clothes scattered across the floor. And with every turn she made around the room you did your best to follow behind. She stopped for a moment, she reached for a picture on his mess of a desk. In the dark you watched a tear fall down.

“Ahh, I wish you were here sometimes…he’s closed off since you’ve gone” she shook her head letting the picture go. She adjusted the basket on her hip to use her free arm to rub at her eyes, once she was gone you quickly shot a web at the door, pulling the door closed as quietly as possible. 

Slowly you settled back down on the ground and walked to the desk, and with shaking hands you held a picture of…you? But it wasn’t. You must’ve been in freshman year. A bright pink strawberry patterned cardigan with a cami white dress. And you were wrapped up in the arms of Miles. Two large smiles were on both of your faces.  

“Aaron! You shouldn’t have…”

“No..” you pressed your body to the door slowly cracking the door open and looked through. Your eyes widened and you could feel your heart pick up at the sight of his uncle. He was alive? But if he was alive, that meant the prowler was rampant in Brooklyn. 

You quickly ran to the window. And shook your head as you stepped out onto the fire escape. The streets were darker, more empty. And any one who was out looked like someone you would have put away in your universe.

“No…no..no!” you shot a web to the top of the building pulling yourself up to pace on the buildings ledge. “Miles, where are you! Come on, think!...”

That spider was meant for you and earth 42’s Miles. You were destined to be Spider-girl….He was a mistake. Now there’s an earth without a spiderman and a spider-girl. 

You pushed your hood back slowly, shaking your head. There was no hero here. No spider man OR spider girl. Why would the universe kill you then if you were needed? Slowly your head turned and your eyes widened beneath the mask. Your unmasked face plastered on a brick wall, next to, “Mr.Morales….” your breathing picked up. 

Your head turned like a swivel till it landed on a spray painted billboard. Your mask and colors spray painted stood out high amongst the chaos. Like a SOS to the universe. Like you….were dead. You were killed in this universe. 

“I need to find Miles! Where ... .where would he be…The academy right?” you paced back and forth pulling your hood up to shield yourself from the rain that begins to pour. Yet just when you were about to send yourself into the night sky when that voice stopped you.

“Mi vida?” Your eyes widened and slowly you turned. You were faced with the prowler and on instinct you crouched low. 

“What have you done! You killed him didn’t you!” Even if he wasn’t your Mr.Morlaes, even if you were still living. This Prowler was enough to make your blood boil. 

“Amor no ... .listen” you quickly throw one of your orbs down, setting off a large explosion of  thick bright pink smoke and shooting a web into his chest pulling him to you to knock him onto his knees and fight his gauntlets off of him. Only, he didn’t fight back as hard. He only deflected every punch and twist that you sent him. 

Every punch and kick filled with an unexplainable rage as you knocked him around the building.

“Where is Miles! What have you done to his father!!!” your webs secured his arms and legs as you held him to your masked eyes. 

“Amor….” you shook your head and pressed the side of his mask. And when it dissipated to reveal…him.

“Miles…” 

A sharp pain shot your head and you swayed, your hands released him. Your body lurched to the side. It was dark and quiet now, Aaron, oh…why is he looking at you like that? What’s he saying to…Miles, but he’s not your Miles.

Your body was wrapped in something soft and warm, the pitter of rain and echoes of thunder would have lulled you back to sleep. But when your body pixelated and glitchy throwing your body out of your comfort you were wide awake grasping at the discarded blanket. 

You coughed into the silence.Your vision cleared as you took in where you were. Aaron’s old apartment. Only it was like some comic book villain, with plans and papers scattered and pinned to the wall, 

The punching bag dangled in front of you from the couch you were laid on. You pressed your back to the couch, closing your eyes. Miles was the prowler, you're dead here along with Miles’ dad and Uncle Aaron was alive. You held your wrists out cursing, no web shooters and they took the watch. That’s why you're glitching.

“How’s your head?” You flinched as the shadow in the kitchen shifted to Aaron who slowly walked to you, a glass of water in his hands as you eyes your crumpled form. 

“I ain’t mean to go so hard. If I knew it was you.” he leaned forward holding the water for you. You hold it, but you keep Aaron’s gaze. For a moment it felt like when you first met Miles’ uncle. How he psyched you out before smirking and questioning if you were the girl that got his nephews heads in the clouds. 

And he does, he smirks like Aaron once did. “Nothing in it. I wouldn’t do anything to my niece.”

“I’m not though” your voice is hoarse. 

“Your not” his smile slowly drops as he leaned back. 

 “I'm not her. She’s dead. And you…” you shook your head looking down into the water.

“He’s what? Mi vida.” He steps from the inky blackness of the shadows while his uncle disappears. All thats left is the silence as he stares down at you, and you take in how different Miles is here. It all makes sense.

Uncle Aaron and Mr.Morales were like Miles’ yin and yang. And Miles was that shred of goodness, of hope for Uncle Aaron. But without his father the balance tipped. Kingpin was surely alive and roped in this Miles. He was the Prowler. 

“Miles…” and his eyes soften. You must have been gone a while in this universe. “ I have to…I need to get back. I’m not her. I don-”

“Back to him?” His brow raises and that cold look settles back in his eyes. You’d never seen such distaste in them before it struck a nerve. It sent ice into your veins as he stepped forward. Your skin prickled in unease as he used the knuckle of his pointer to gentle cradle your chin and dirnk in your eyes.

“The one who took it all from me. He’s got it good, don’t he?” And your eyes lower. Because you can’t deny the hurt you feel for him. This Miles should be the one keeping things safe on this earth. Should have a mother. Should have a spider-girl by his side. But you need to explain it. How the Spot is the one to blame, not your Miles.

“Miles it isn’t his fault I promise. It was someone else. I can help you, we can please just let me find a way home” you plead, trying to keep your voice steady as his gentle caresses halt. His head tilts. A beat passes before he’s pinching your cheeks and leaning forward just a breath away. His eyes pierce your soul and your heart begins to pound against your ribs.

The glass cup slips out your hand shattering into a million pieces just like your resolve.

And his fury is quiet, but you hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. “He stole my father, my life. He stole you from me. I don’t give a damn bout that fraud. Long as I got you back in my life, he’s safe.”

The threat lingers in the air and your heart drops to your stomach. Miles was smart. A genius. And for all you know he’d begun picking at the watch. If he could find a way to get to your Miles, he would have. And something tells you that if he does, you wouldn’t be seeing him again. So you swallow what feels like cotton down your throat and try to stand firm.

But a tear is dripping down your cheek that he catches. He’s gentle in cradling your cheek as his thumb catches the stream of tears.

“Things will be different. Better. I’ll be better for you mi corazon. I’ll keep you safe this time.”

↳ pairing : miles morales x reader

↳ synopsis : shenanigans with your favorite classmate :) (maybe even a secret crush)

↳ authors note : i'm rlly trying to expand through fandoms, plzzz don't leave i promise i still write hsrr ;o; !!!!! i'm gonna be on a LONG atsv brainrot plz <\3 wuts a proof-read idk what that iz (/j)

MILES MORALES was the new student two years ago, some people thought he was an oddball since the first day encounter with his dad.. but you didn't really mind it honestly. You had much more important matters to attend to, like not listening to gossip.

After learning he was in some of your classes, you decided to try and get to know the guy. He seemed pretty cool, and you never passed an opportunity to know someone new.

"Morales, right?" Miles hears from behind him, it's currently lunch and so he turns his head to see you standing there with a tray in hand. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Since that day, you two hit it off like crazy, with sharing interests and hobbies it wasn't hard to talk every single day and run out of things to talk about.

"So, my Uncle Aaron took me to this crazy place like 2 years ago maybe? But yeah, it's where I did one of my first graffiti art." He explained, leading you through the dark traintracks while holding your wrist so you don't lose him in the darkness. "Sounds cool! Is it the same one that you used in your essay?"

You listen to the echo of his laughter. "Yeah, it is.. He was a great man, made me who I am today."

The way he talks fondly about his Uncle makes your heart sting a little. Though you were never able to meet him yourself, the way Miles talked about him to you made it clear he was a man who loved his nephew like he was his own son, and it was like you could emphasize with his pain of losing him.

However your thoughts are interrupted at the loud sound of a light switch turning on, illuminating the room and different graffiti art draw on the walls. Miles laughs at your breathless expression, admiring the way your eyes seemed to glow at the art all around you.

"Heeey, look at that!" You chuckled, pointing at the 'Expectations' graffiti you brought up earlier. "You were so much shorter back then.." And Miles rolled his eyes at that comment, knowing that you were referring to the silhouette on the wall. "Very funny."

Then you realize theres a section of the wall thats covered with cloth, and he notices how you take notice of it. Miles immediately clears his throat, puts a hand behind his neck and looks at the ground. "Oh, uh.. that's a work in progress. I wouldn't want you to see i-"

Suddenly his spidey-senses go off, the second he looks up he already sees you right infront of the wall and about to touch the cover. "(name)!"

Pulling it off, it reveals a wall full of.. you? You were surprised that the details were down almost perfectly, your nose shape, your eyes and your smile. It was all so perfectly done that in a way it could either be flattering or a tiny bit creepy.

Of course, Miles being your best friend, you may or may not sketch or write about him every now and then (or rather all the time) depending on which one you felt like doing, but he didn't have to know that.

"I'm.. honored?" You laugh, looking back at your poor friend whos pulled his hoodie over his head and his hands covering his face. "Oh, come on! It's not that embarassing- And it looks good I promise!" You tried to reassure him, but the boy has no intentions on budging.

"I forgot I had that." Miles mumbled to himself, ignoring how you pull on his arm to try and get him to show himself.

At some point you've given up, and let the guy wallow in his own embarassment for a while. Your attention shifts back onto the art wall, seeing the several doodles and actual art pieces that you can only assume Miles was working on for the past 2 years you two were friends.

The much smaller doodles were your favorites, ones where he made you a tiny little creature were the cutest ones, and at some point you noticed how so many of them involved.. him. He drew tiny moments of you and him holding hands, going on walks, sharing earphones and little cliche date stuff.

You were about to say something, but are stopped at the realization Miles was right next to you while his eyes never seemed to break contact from yours. "Miles?" You say in almost a whisper, seeing how focused his gaze was on you.

"I mean, we're both smart enough to realize it.. right?"

The urge to play dumb was strong, it really was, but Miles could see through you like he was staring at glass. That's how well he knew you, and how transparent you were with him.

"And maybe I'm stupid enough to make up delusions in my head but.. do you.. feel the same?"

The question leaves you stunned, stammering to find an answer, but the serious facade Miles kept up melts at your nervous reaction. He begins to laugh, digging through his pockets and pulls out a paper you recognize all too well, it had to be either a drawing or a poem you had written for Miles and considering one of your recent ones going missing.. if what he had in his hands was that one, it gave him more than an answer.

That realization makes you gasp, and Miles' laughter only grows stronger as you've now realized what's happening in its full extent. Miles liked you, and he knew you liked him too.

"You cheeky-" You try to grab the paper from his hands, but the tall piece of shit tip-toe's just to make sure you couldn't grab it. "Whaat? What am I, hm?" He'll playfully taunt at you, still unable to control his smile as he knows that deep down you enjoyed this banter just as much as he did.

You two continue to playfully argue for a while, laughter echoing throughout the abandoned area as hours passed on and on. The talk about either ones feelings never came to light, but you two were content with the moment, and in another time you'd talk about the confusing thing that is the feelings you both mutually share.

You had all the time in the world, right? Miles Morales wasn't going anywhere.

Let's Play a Little Game

Post! Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

Obsessive!Prowler!Miles Morales x Spidergirl!Reader

Authors note: THIS READER IS 15. A CHILD. THERE IS NO SMUT. NADA, ZIP, NOTHING. I WILL NOT BE SPICY WRITING A SINGLE THING FOR ANYTHING INVOLVING MILES MORALES.

You’d fought villains twice your size. A crazy octopus with metal tentacles, a man double your size, covered in black spots. Petty criminals brandishing jagged knives. But why was this one so different? He was no different was he? 

He was gruff. His body was always rigid, his words were sharp. His eyes were sharp. But the one thing you took notice, how manipulative he was. How he could weasel into the mind, into the minds of men twice his age who did his most dirty work. 

You had to pretend. Pretend his syrupy sweet words were true till your hero came. Your lovebug. 

His eyes cut to yours as the record scratched to silence in the hideout. Your eyes crack open, he now crouched in front of you. His braids fell to the side. You braided them for him last night. It was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him. His head lay back on your legs as you massaged his scalp. And for a moment your mind went dark as you held the thin sharp rat tooth comb.

One drive straight to the throat was all it took, then you could be free. But then he opened his eyes. And you couldn’t. Because even if he wasn’t your lovebug. He was an exact copy of him. You were in his world, if his men found it was you that took their leader out they would hunt you down. 

He stared in your eyes as if daring you, testing your new freedom. And so you carefully parted his hair down the middle. That night you passed the first test. 

And now as your sleepy eyes look into his, you remember it’s time. Time for another song and dance. Of playing the part. Another test. 

“Sleepy mi vida?”

You can’t bring yourself to speak up and offer him a tired nod as you curl more into the nook of the couch, the bright knitted blanket stands out like a sore thumb, as do you in all your brightness. A reminder how far from home you are.

“A little bit.” your voice is scratchy, you must have slept for an hour at best. The sun was diving into the horizon painting the sky a beautiful mix of oranges and yellows. You sit up stretching your arms above your head and scooch your body forward. 

“Nah, take your time amor. Didn’t mean to wake you up” his knuckles stroke down to rest under your chin and his thumb to gently pinch it as he looks up at you with that love sick gaze. He leans forward and you know to meet him halfway and press your lips to his.  

He moves back enough to whisper against your lips, “suit up in five, we got business to handle.”

And as he stands to walk to the old player. A soft beat fills the room, your veins as you force yourself to stand. To fight. Your movements are second hand as you don the suit behind a hung up white sheet. You don’t call it yours, Because it's not. Yours is back home. Here he’s created you a new one. 

You step out from behind the sheet and in his eyes he drinks you in as you adjust your web shooters. 

And in some sick way, maybe you had survived in this universe. Had you been bitten? This would have been your suit. It was solid black with black webbings along the thighs and pink in the inner parts of the hood along with your jordans which you go to kneel and tie up but he stops you. He kneels before you and ties them. And just as he gazes up at you, you pull your mask down.

This is what keeps you sane. Because here you're free to sneer down at him as he looks up at you. He wears his own suit now. You hold your hand to him and he wraps his around you and pulls himself up, his hand is quick to reach and snake around you, pulling you flushed against him. 

“Deadly and beautiful. The perfect mix” he whispers leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead as he taps the side of his mask to conceal his face. 

He watches you as you leap from the building and sends your webbing to a building swinging your body to kneel on top of a light pole. You  look up and catch his nod as he moves forward. And you follow. Swinging languidly.

You realize now as you swing into the dead of night why he’s unlike the villains, the criminals, the mad scientists. Because as he runs alongside you. As he leads you both into the night. His reflection dancing off the glass of a building. As he looks at you. For a moment you think that’s Miles, your Miles, your lovebug. But it’s not.

Instead, you look into the eyes of Miles, the prowler. Harbored on earth-42. 

And it scares you, because as much as you fight each day, deep down. Somewhere in the dark parts of your heart. Your heart flutters, feels warm for a moment when he holds your gaze, and flashes you that smile. 

And you beg for Miles, Gwen, Miguel, Hobie, anyone to find you. Because you fear that somewhere along the line, you’re no longer going to be pretending. 

That you failed the ultimate test of love.

Hi! I hope you doing well! Could one of Earth 42 Miles Morales x Female Reader where reader in his universe dead and he and her was dating before he become the prowler (I don't know if I write his name right English it's not my first language) and she go to earth 42 whit miles and he sees her again alive, and Miles is also dating Female Reader and is like "what do you mean "she's alive"?"

(Hello! I hope this fits and I hope you enjoy! So sorry if it sucks as this is my first spider-verse thing but I hope you enjoy!)

Second Chance

You knew the moment you got here that something was wrong.

You were not home.

Home was 1610, not whatever the hell this was. You guys were supposed to be sent home, the DNA detected was supposed to send you home.

But you realized too late the Spider, the one that caused all of this, wasn't from home.

Everything was wrong.

Very wrong.

Especially when Miles' Uncle Aaron came through the door. Really wrong when he leads you up to the roof.

And really, fucking, wrong when you stared at a mural of your face, painted on a brick wall in front of you along with Miles' father.

You were dead here.

Home was where you were alive. This…this was not home.

"...(Name)..." You could hear Miles whisper in your ear, you couldn't answer back.

Too scared to look away from your smiling face painted into the brick.

You could tell Uncle Aaron was standing right beside you and Miles, both staring at the graffiti mural.

Miles looked to you, his hand gripping onto yours to try and bring you back from your own stare at your own mural.

Uncle Aaron flipped on a light, Miles hesitated to look, but when he did he could see his supposed Uncles stare.

You finally tore your eyes from the mural, gripping back onto Miles' hand almost as if it would take you away from this nightmare.

Uncle Aaron merely stared at you two as you both backed up, trying to get away.

But you didn't.

You could feel a stare on the back of your head, too late to turn around, but catching a glimpse along with Miles as someone jumped from a rooftop, knocking Miles senseless and into the ground unconscious.

"Shit- Miles!" You panicked, trying to grab him before he hit the ground but you didn't get the chance.

You noted how the one who punched your boyfriend out stared at you, never looking away as he slowly got closer.

He stepped over Miles' unconscious body, you tried to back away but had nowhere to go as Uncle Aaron wrapped his arm around your neck from behind.

"Hey! No- let me go!" You tried to fight back, clawing at his hand before a sting in your neck caused you to yell in pain.

The one in the purple suit stood closer as your body tried to keep fighting, but soon fell limp, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

Uncle Aaron let you go, about to let you fall into the ground with your Miles. You were fully content with that.

Until the one in front of you caught you just as you closed your eyes to oblivion.

You still had some senses left until you were left completely out. So you could feel the way the boy caught you, carefully moving you in his arms.

Your eyes flickered open and closed, fighting to stay awake as he stared down at you before your eyelids dropped, and you couldn't help but fall asleep into nothing.

Uncle Aaron saw the way his nephew looked down at you, noting how close he held you and how he stared, his movements slow but gentle.

He could see the way he was careful with you, letting you rest in his arms and never letting you fall to the ground.

Something he had done before.

"Stop staring like they're yours. They're not." Uncle Aaron simply put, walking past his Nephew, Miles Morales, to throw the unconscious one over his shoulder.

"...I know. They're just…alive." Miles muttered, can't help but to stare down at your peaceful face in his arms.

You looked like you always did. Content and happy, peaceful to be in his arms.

Like you did before he lost you.

Seeing you alive and just as beautiful as he sat from afar stunned him for a moment, but relieved him as thoughts popped up in his head.

Maybe he got a second chance.

But as he looked over at your Miles, resentment grew.

How come he got to have everything he lost, when everything could've been avoided for him, and get to keep you?

His grip on you couldn't help but to strengthen, the thought of losing you again didn't sit well with him, especially to that Miles.

Not when he had a second chance.

So as he looked down at your sleeping face, one he used to wake up to and one he used to take pictures of just to tease you in the morning with,

He knew something.

He wasn't losing you again.

Hiii, omg first of all I just wanted to say I loved Ur miles morales earth 42 imagine "second chance" like all my days I'm in love. But like anyway I was wondering if I could request another one with him and Spider man miles? Soooo, it's basically where in spider man miles earth the reader died and when he gets to earth 42 (the part where he thought he was back in his own earth) he sees her and try's to apologise for not saving her and that he's so glad she alive but little does he know the reader is actully with earth 42 miles and that miles gets all over protective and jealous???

(Hello! Sure I can and so sorry if this sucks but I hope you enjoy this little drabble!)

Not Your Lover

Miles knew something was wrong, he figured it out immediately, not really, but he did.

He knew he needed to leave. He knew he needed to get home. He wanted nothing more than to get home.

But every thought of leaving and going home, back to his home where his family was, disappeared when he heard the door open.

Home was where he had his family.

But home didn't have you.

"I'm back, Mrs. Morales!"

Miles froze the second he heard, standing in the hallway before he slowly turned on his heel to see you.

You looked just as beautiful. The same way you did before he couldn't save you.

Miles didn't know what to do, just watching as you left your things by the door, looking around as you walked in before your eyes met his.

Miles almost broke down once your eyes met him, your same smile on your face that you always had for him as you got closer.

"You okay, Miles?" You asked, your smooth voice bringing Miles nothing but comfort as he couldn't help but stare at you.

You looked at Miles confused, Miles couldn't help but to bring himself forward, bringing you into a much needed hug as he buried his face into your neck, almost crying as the familiar scent of your perfume he had gotten you filled his senses.

"Woah!"

Miles held onto you as you said in surprise, not letting go as you slowly hugged him back, he felt your arms around him as he did his best not to cry.

Miles didn't want to do anything but to stay with you, but couldn't as you pulled back, looking at him with seemingly worry as you cupped his cheek.

"Are you feeling okay?" You asked, concerned as Miles almost didn't hear you, barely shaking his head.

"No- yeah. I'm okay." Miles barely muttered out, eyes darting over your entire face, not wanting to look away in fear you would leave as you did before.

"Okay, then." You gave him a weird look before you smiled, brushing off his weird behavior as you took his hand, leading him out and to the stairs.

"Come on. I made something for you."

Miles could hear you say as you walked up the stairs quickly, like you always did, leaving him behind for a moment.

"Hey, wait up!" Miles called after you, desperate to not let you out his sight but stopped in pain as he glitched, groaning in pain as he leaned into the railing.

"Miles?"

Miles looked up to see you standing above the flight of stairs, looking at him weirdly.

Miles saved himself, waving his hand to dismiss your worry as he climbed after you quickly.

You got to the roof first, Miles coming through the door not far after.

"Hey-" Miles tried once more before he stopped himself, looking around the roof, the changes evident as he looked back and forth.

That wasn't everything that was new.

Miles couldn't help but look at the brick wall, staring for a moment before a passing by train lit it up, giving just enough time for Miles to see the painted face.

The face no longer was Uncle Aaron and you.

But instead was Miles' dad.

Miles couldn't look away, his wide eyes staring at the portrait of his dad.

He didn't save his dad. His dad was gone.

He needed to go home. He had to go home.

Miles couldn't move, his feet planted to the floor.

Miles only turned when he remembered you were there, he slowly turned his head, expecting to see anything but he got nothing.

Your face was changed, everything was different now as any aspect he saw of his (Name) was gone, replaced by someone else he didn't know.

Miles wanted to deny it, but the way you looked at him before a small smirk came onto your face rendered him, every spider sense screaming for him to get the hell out.

Suddenly, you whistled a soft tune. Your cunning smile still on your face as you walked around Miles, his eyes following you, a mistake.

Miles watched as a figure dressed in a familiar but different suit jumped from the rooftop of another building, Miles thought to escape but couldn't, already punched down to the floor.

"Too bad. He's pretty cute."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miles woke up with a pain, his body felt constricted and his sight blurred as everything hurt.

He couldn't remember where he was or what happened for a moment before his eyes shot open, the panic setting in.

Miles was chained to a punching bag, looking around frantically before he saw you.

Your back was turned to him, working at a desk peacefully.

Miles breathed heavily, panicking as he moved around, making the chains clink together and catching your attention.

You perked up quickly, turning around to look at him as you took out an earphone, looking him over like he was some sort of joke.

You then smiled, a smile he once loved, but a smile he now couldn't place and one he was growing to hate.

You whistled softly once more, a soft alert as you put down everything onto the desk, now leaning against it as you waited.

Miles was too stunned to speak, trying to find the words before he stopped as he looked up, seeing the one who rendered him unconscious now hanging from a support beam, dropping down quickly.

Miles stared at him as he stared back, his masked face concealing his identity.

Miles watched almost fearfully as panic rose again, spider senses hay-wire as the masked one got closer, close enough for Miles to look at his face directly.

"Take off the fucking mask. It's not scaring anyone, babe."

Miles glanced at you, seemingly shocked and hurt as you called him babe.

But Miles was even more shocked as he heard the one in the mask sigh, the mask coming off a moment later to stun Miles even more.

Under the mask, resided his face.

Miles Morales' exact copy was under the mask, or at least, him in this world.

Miles could only watch as the formerly masked Miles glared at him before his copy walked over to you, forced to watch as you smiled up at him.

Miles could feel his heart beating and almost cracking as you glanced at him, the same smug smile on your lips as your Miles stood close to you.

Your Miles slipped his hand onto your neck, kissing your forehead before he went to your lips, and greedily, you accepted his kiss.

Miles knew a lot in his life, and that was that he loved his (Name) and she loved him.

You were not his (Name).

His (Name) died for him.

You would be the death of him.

bound 2 , miles morales

miles morales x gn! reader

warnings: death, mentions of weapons, slight panic attacks

synopsis: he was bound to love you in every universe, but he was also bound to lose you in every universe.

a/n: this is really long so i hope you guys enjoy it. i had a blast writing this to be honest, the idea just came to me while i was eating pasta so enjoy.

at a pretty early age, miles’s parents knew and understood how smart their kid was. they knew he had drive and ambition, they understood his passion to learn and his passion to create and they pushed him to explore into that more, pushing him to become a better version of himself.

that drive and passion led to miles getting accepted into visions. a school for incredibly smart people. despite miles sending in his application during the middle of the school year, but nonetheless they accepted him with open arms. or so he thought they were going to.

it was easy for miles to get along with the other students at brooklyn middle. they all shared the same ambition, liked the same music, the same movies and some even shared the same struggles which is what made miles feel at home.

he had thought visions wasn’t going to be any different.

and boy was he wrong.

he was humiliated on the first day by his dad, something miles always expected but it was different this time. being at such a prestige school, where people think they’re better than you, despite the fact that you’re both in the same school.

so at first miles was having a rough time, until he met somebody there that particularly peaked his interests and made his little fourteen year old boy heart beat like crazy.

he walked through the halls, confused as he read the room number on the paper again and again, looking up at all the numbers on the doors. in brookyln middle, all his classes were in one building instead of two, so it didn’t take him this much time to get to class.

“are you lost?” someone questioned him. they were putting their books in their lockers, staring at miles with a confused look in their eyes.

miles flinched, he thought everybody would be in class by now. “uh—no..i’m not—no.” miles said, waving his hands in the air as he shook his head.

“okay.” the person replied, shutting their locker and walking in the opposite direction miles was standing in.

“wait!” miles shouted. “yes—yes i am lost i have no clue where i am.” he sighed, the white paper held tightly in his hand.

the person walked closer towards him, a slight smile forming on their face as they grabbed the paper from miles’s hand. reading the words on the paper, looking around at the buildings surrounding them. “you need to go through the glass tunnel to the other building, then down the stairs and it’s the first class to the left.” they said.

miles blinked in confusion, grabbing the paper back and looking at it. his eyes moving towards the glass tunnel, as he nodded in reply, swallowing a lump in his throat. the persons eyes met miles’s, sending a slight little twist in his stomach as he quickly looked away.

“i can take you..if you want?” they said, tilting their head in miles’s direction. “i don’t have classes right now, we have a sub so there’s nothing interesting.” they said, beginning to walk towards the direction of the tunnel.

miles walked with the person, side by side trying to not get too close to them as he cleared his throat, his uncles words echoing in his head. “i thought that side was just dorms? i didn’t know they had classes over there.” he said, holding onto the straps of his backpack.

“well the last three levels are classes, they had extra floors and they didn’t know what to do with them. the students used to use it as a party area so recently they replaced them with classrooms.” they said, their eyes still facing forward, while miles looked at them like they were the coolest person he’s ever met.

“i’m miles…morales.” he said, attempting to make his voice sound deeper once he said his last name. he was confused on how his uncle made it seem so easy, when it really wasn’t.

“i’m [name]….[last name].” they responded, mimicking miles’s tone of voice which earned a chuckle from miles as he swung his arms.

the two walked next to each other, talking about their lives and what had brought them to vision. for the first time in his entire first day of school, miles didn’t feel alone.

and for the first time in your entire school year, you had made a friend that was truly a good person.

what miles had never expected however, was becoming brooklyn’s next spider-man. he didn’t mean for it to happen, he was just trying to hang out with his uncle. spending the night talking about you, and talking about expectations that have been put against him by his family and his teachers.

but never did he expect to be bitten by a radioactive spider.

he woke up that morning, feeling different than usual. he seemed taller and stronger. his clothes didn’t fit right anymore, he was sticking to his books and papers. miles even managed to get a side of a girls hair buzzed because his hands stuck to her hair.

you remember seeing him run to the staff room, confused as he attempted to shake the excess hair off of his hands. muttering silent words underneath his breath as you watched from the doorway as he held his hands under warm water.

“what the hell did you do?” you questioned, walking towards him, leaning against the sink. “you know you can’t be in here right? this is staff only.” you muttered, watching him attempt to scrub the hair off of his hands.

“i don’t even know what i did to be honest, i think i grabbed glue? or something…i have no idea.” he sighed, his hands starting to sting from the amount of scrubbing he had been doing.

you shook your head, grabbing his hands as you attempted to pull of the pieces of hair. gently soaking them in warm water every now and then to make it hurt less. miles’s face warmed up, feeling the softness of your hands against his and watching your confused face attempting to help him as if you were doing your math homework.

the two of you spent almost the rest of the day inside your dorm, scrapping the hair off and making sure his hands wouldn’t stick to anything else. you found it..odd that he was so worried and confused, how could he have not known what he grabbed for his hands to be sticky? but despite that, you didn’t question it.

when the two of you had finished, miles let out a long sigh. his eyes meeting your comic book collection of spider-man. silently, he got up, slowly grabbing the book in hopes that his hands wouldn’t stick—and they didn’t. he flipped through the pages, ones about spider-man’s origen story. that’s when miles realized what had happened to him.

he looked out the window, it was almost time for the spider-man memorial to start. “hey..i have to go, but thank you so much, honestly. i owe you tons.” miles said, making his way towards the door.

“yeah you do morales.” you replied, throwing all the blonde hair into the garbage.

throughout the next couple of days, miles learned that traveling through other universes was a real thing. he learned that, not only was he spider-man but so were a whole lot of people, each in their own little world fighting the same fight miles was.

there was so much going on, miles couldn’t really keep track. all he knew is that he was eager to do this, this is what he wanted to do. if his life had led him to this moment, then what’s stopping him?

miles then soon realized that, with great power comes great responsibility. he realized that—maybe being spider-man wasn’t all it chalked up to be. he realized that when he sat next to his uncles dead body in an alleyway, tears pouring down from his eyes as the only person who truly knew him faded away.

he ran.

miles had never ran that fast in his life, holding back sobs as he turned invisible, running through the streets and onto buildings. he found himself making his way to your dorm, despite his best efforts not to. he didn’t know how he was going to explain all of this to you, but all he knew was that he wanted to see you.

you sat on your desk, listening to music and doing homework before you noticed the shadow outside your window. you were a bit confused, being five stories up and there being no fire escape on your floor made it seem impossible for there to even be a shadow. you got up, making your way towards the window when you saw miles, his hands sticking to the sides of the building.

quickly, you opened the window, letting miles come inside as you looked at him in astonishment. he was wearing a spider-man costume, he had tears in his eyes and he looked—tired.

“miles what happened?” you asked.

he didn’t reply, he simply threw himself on you. his tears staining your shirt as he cried in your arms. you gently wrapped your arms around him, reassuring him that whatever happened, he was going to be okay.

when he was finished, he explained himself to you. everything. he came clean, told you what had happened to him, about the multiverse, about his uncle. he showed you how he could stick to walls, he showed you how he could turn invisible.

he told you how he was destined to become spider-man.

you chuckled slightly, not because you were making fun of him but because you were in disbelief. miles morales, the passionate boy you had met just days earlier was the next spider-man. miles stood there, awaiting from a reply from you. but instead, you pulled him back into a hug.

“i don’t know what those other spider people say, but you are spider-man. nobody can ever take that away from you miles.” you whispered in his ear, giving him all the confidence that he had so desperately needed.

after miles had successfully stopped the collider, stopping kingpin and sending all of his spider-friends back home he started spending more time around you. the two of you constantly hanging out, playing video games, basketball. he even introduced you to his parents.

he started to recognize his feelings for you, knowing how much he yearned to be around you. he stayed up late at night, wondering if you felt the same way also. listening to music that reminded him of you, constantly drawing you in his sketchbook.

you had a habit of watching miles swing around when he was out and about being spider-man. occasionally, you’d get upset with him for skipping classes. but after a while you got used to it, even skipping classes with him to go swinging with him.

miles would visit you at your families store, checking up on you, helping you stock the store. all as an excuse for him just to talk to you. it helped him feel less alone, less confused. because he knew if you could understand and like him still, than maybe so could his parents.

one night, miles showed up to your house. seriously injured, which scared you more than it scared him. you silently shouted at him, looking at him in disbelief as blood poured down from his head and how his legs shook from the fear. but for some reason, miles couldn’t understand why you were so upset. and he made the best mistake of his life asking you.

“why do i care?” you scoffed, wrapping the bandages around his knuckles. “i care because i care about you miles! i care about you more than anything. do you know how worried i get when your swinging around, fighting bad guys?” you said, standing up. “i get scared that something’s going to happen to you, that i’m never going to see my best-friend again.” you said with a shaky breath. “i care because i love you.” you said.

miles blinked in confusion, feeling his face heat up. “like you—like you love me? or you love love me?” he questioned, looking up at you confused.

you crouched down in front of him, placing a soft kiss against his lips, causing him to flinch. when you pulled away, miles had the smuggest little look on his face that made you regret doing it in the first place.

“alright morales, i take it back.” you said, attempting to turn around but not before miles grabbed your arm, cupping the sides of your cheek and kissing you again. it was a bit longer this time, but it wasn’t anything too crazy.

6 MONTHS had gone by and there was a lot of changes between the two of you. for one, miles looked a lot more older and matured, despite the fact that he still had the jokes of a twelve year old. but so did you, the two of you were growing up together.

people in brookyln started to appreciate the new spider-man, each and every one of them starting to buy merch, making their own merch. dressing up as miles for halloween, asking miles for help with every-day things.

miles was brookyln’s one and only spider-man.

but he was also your one and only boyfriend.

and currently, instead of him being spider-man he was miles. miles who was sitting on the rooftop of his apartment complex, eating food and having a date with his partner.

“do you think..” miles said, swallowing the food that was in his mouth. “do you think things are destined to be in every universe?” he questions, his gaze meeting yours. “like—i’m spider man here, do you think there’s another universe where i’m also spider man? or is it like a one time thing?”

you took a sip from your cup. “i don’t know it’s hard to say. i mean, peter parker here was spider-man and there was also a peter b. parker in another earth that was spider-man.” you started, “but then there’s other spider people like porker and penni and gwen and you know, so maybe? who knows.” you shrugged.

“do you think in another universe we’re together?” he asked, his look calmly on yours as you started to smile slightly.

“maybe..” you muttered, “i mean look. in every universe where there’s a peter parker there’s a mary jane right? so maybe it’s the same like that. maybe there’s another universe where there’s a miles morales and me, and ganke. just cause we’re a path you cross in your life you know?” you said.

“so do you think we’re bound to be together in every universe and stuff? like it’s destiny or something?” miles asked.

you smiled softly, shaking your head. “i think anything is possible miles.” you replied softly.

miles soon came to realize that anything is in fact, possible.

miles sat quietly on the roof of a building. just two weeks after the conversation about destiny he had with you. he was listening to his music, constantly checking his phone for a reply from you. you hadn’t texted him, but miles didn’t think much of it. you were working after all.

the police radio he had stolen from his dad sat next to him as miles mumbled the words of the song, kicking his feet that hung of the edge of the building. suddenly, the police radio pinged, causing miles to turn down the music that played through his phone.

“we have an robbery at a music shop on fifth avenue, suspect is armed with a gun.”

miles felt his heart sink. a music shop on fifth avenue? that had to be you, you’re families music shop was the only one on that street. miles got up so fast it made him dizzy, throwing himself off the ledge of the building as he quickly swung from building to building, hearing the incoming sirens.

please don’t let it be you.

that’s what he thought the whole way over there.

when he had arrived, he noticed the glass windows were shattered, they had been shot at. soft music played in the background, cd’s and vinyls scattered on the floor. you had tried to fight back.

miles walked slowly through the mess, his heart beating so fast he could feel it in his stomach. then, he felt his spidey senses go off, running into the backrooms of the music shop. there, he saw the man, holding a gun to your head.

“stop right there spider-man, i will kill them.” the man muttered, his arm around your chest and the gun placed firmly on the side of your head.

miles’s stomach was starting to hurt, the sounds of your crying sending pains through his heart as if knives had been stabbing him repeatedly. “please..don’t do this, they don’t have anything to do with this.” he pleaded.

the man scoffed, “why are the two of you so close, huh? i’ve been planning this for a while now…i get to her and i get to the mighty new spider-man of brookyln.” he muttered, noticing the rapid breathing of the kid in front of him. “spider-man isn’t all it’s racked up to be? isn’t it? it’s not all fun and saving bad guys..and i’ll make sure you know that.” he said, his finger moving towards the trigger.

“no stop it!” miles shouted, shooting his web onto the man’s hand.

miles heard a loud bang. one that seemed so familiar, that when he had heard it he could’ve sworn he saw his uncle, just for a split moment. when miles came back to reality, he saw you on the floor. the man hovering above your body, as miles’s chest rose with anger. miles shot out his webs at the man, trapping him against the wall. he could hear the faint police sirens nearing, so they’d have him soon enough.

but his priority was you.

you were on the floor, your head tilted to the side as your body stiffened. tears staining your face as your eyes stayed wide open, your body going limp in miles’s embrace as he whispered sorry apologizes to you, tears falling out his eyes and being trapped in his mask.

miles had lost his uncle, one person who truly knew him.

and now miles had you, another person who truly knew him.

all this at the ripe age of fifteen years old.

for the next couple of months, miles was more distant. he skipped class more, ignored his parents more, went out and did more graffiti. he was still, however spider-man, that hadn’t changed. he knew that if you were here you’d still want him to continue to be spider-man.

it only felt right to help other people since he couldn’t help you.

he found himself missing his other spider friends, he knew they’d understand the pain he was going through. the confusion and the anger. they would understand everything.

miles stood in a dark alleyway, one that was being dimly lit by a street lamp. he looked at the wall, a graffiti of your face on it with the word BOUND2 in the background. miles had still believed that the two of you were bound to fall in love and be together, in every universe.

he found comfort that somewhere, in another universe, you were still alive.

more months and crazy adventures had gone by that miles wishes you were here to see. apparently, he had a nemesis now. gwen was back, and comforting miles and miles found out there was a spider-society, one that he was eager to join.

but miles was soon disappointed.

miles found out that this supposed “spider-society” wasn’t all it seemed to be. he also found out that apparently, your death and his uncles death was an important step to him becoming spider-man. but what really irked him, was the fact that his father was to die next.

“a captain close to spider-man dies, saving a child from falling rubble.”

miles soon realized what this was. the true reason why all of his friends miraculously showed up, he realized that miguel didn’t want to recruit him, miguel wanted to stop him.

miles was confident he could do both, he was confident he could save his father and save the world.

“i can do both! spider-man always—“

“not always.”

and while miles ran for his life he remembered you. he thought of what you wouldn’t wanted, what you would’ve said in this situation. of course you’d understand right? he couldn’t just leave his father to die. hell, if he could go back he would save you, even if meant the whole world fell apart.

miles realized that these people didn’t actually miss him, they were using him.

miles realized that he wasn’t supposed to be spider-man.

miles realized that he was tired of taking shit from other people.

miles ran, as fast as he could. escaping back in his word, attempting to help his father as fast as he could. except only, he was greeted by his mother. miles came clean about everything, about him being spider-man about the spot, about everything. but he was just as confused as his mother when she uttered the words, “whose spider-man?”

miles found out pretty quickly that he was in the wrong dimension. the dimension that the spider had bit him came from. his thoughts were interrupted by a rattling doorknob, the sight of his uncle walking into the house catching his attention.

he hugged his uncle tightly, he hadn’t seen him in a year. for a moment, miles thought about the possibility that you could be alive also. that he might be able to see you again.

miles followed his uncle, confused and worried about what they were about to do. they both made their way onto the rooftop. in the back of miles’s mind, he wondered where his father was, what his father would’ve thought about all this.

when he got to the rooftop, he heard loud sirens, dogs barking and alarms ringing. something about this brooklyn was different, it wasn’t safe. it wasn’t like the brookyln miles knew.

miles couldn’t help but think about you.

“you finish up the graffiti? it looks good.” his uncle chimed in, looking down at his phone.

miles was confused, he turned to look at the side of the building. one where in his earth there was a mural of his uncle.

miles’s eyes widened at the sight of his dads face, with the words rest in power underneath. his dad was dead in this universe. but what caught his attention even more, was the person next to his dad.

[NAME] [LAST NAME]

CHILD

SIBLING

PARTNER IN CRIME

REST IN POWER

reading those words miles realized that things were really bound to happen. he was bound to love you, in every universe. but he was also bound to lose you, in every universe.

Manners (Request)

Sherlock x gn!child!reader, John x gn!child!reader

Genre: fluff

Request Description: Thank you for saying you’ll write for Sherlock, I appreciate it :) Could you do one where all the peeps are round for dinner (Sherly, Mycroft, Greg, John ect) and John invites his cousin round (like age 9) and she’s just like REALLY polite and even when Sherlock says something really mean from one of his deductions she just brush’s it off and forgives him for it and even Mycroft likes her (PURELY PLATONIC PEOPLE) and she asks to see the brains in the fringe and Sherlock is ECSTATIC

Warnings: none really

(A/N): the only warning here is really that i dont remember the sherlock characters THAT well. and ive totally forgotten who sherly is, so this fic must live without her hahaha

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Brilliant Girl

A/N: I just remembered how much I love BBC’s Sherlock so have him bonding with a tiny genius who is also brushed off and misunderstood. Also the reader is like ten, so she sounds/is a bit mature but is still not taken seriously bc of her age (based on how my ten year old brother acts, so it’s realistic lol)

Warnings: just fluff

Word count: almost 1k

~~~~

“But why doesn’t dad just look at his shoes?”

Sherlocks head snapped up from the paper he was reading, gaze landing on the ten year old sitting on the couch in the break room.

“Your dad is very busy, Y/n,” Donovan said, annoyance slipping into her voice as she handed the girl a coloring book and some crayons. Y/n took them with a sigh and Donovan left the small room. Sherlock covered his surprise when she actually stopped to talk to him. She tilted her head toward the girl.

“Lestrades daughter, Y/n. She’s not right in the head, that one. Lestrade had to bring her with today. She laid down next to the body we had just found. What reason could anyone have for doing that?” She seemed to remember she was talking to Sherlock and her nose turned up. “Although I suppose you’d do the same.”

Without another mean word, she turned on her heel and left.

Sherlock hadn’t visited this particular crime scene Donovan had mentioned; he’d been at the grocery buying tea for John after burning it for an experiment. (Conclusion to the experiment; John got very angry when he didn’t have his specific kind of tea. Never burn it again.) So, naturally, he was curious about what had happened. And why a little girl would lay down next to a dead body.

Glancing around, Sherlock quickly stood and made his way into the break room, stopping in front of the little girl. She looked up from her coloring, regarding him with interest.

“I know who you are.” She said simply. “You’re very smart.” With that she resumed her coloring.

Sherlock let the surprise linger on his face for a moment longer than he normally would before squatting down in front of her.

“What were you saying about that man’s shoes?”

She sighed and looked up again. “You’re not gonna listen to me either. None of the adults do. They’re too busy.”

“I’m not. I promise.”

She gave him a long look, setting her coloring aside before speaking. “His shoes were wrong.”

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“Well, they were wrong. They were too big, and they were green. He was wearing a purple suit; he wouldn’t have worn green shoes.” She stated obviously.

“How did you know they were too big?” He asked as he shifted to sit on the floor. The girl peered out the door into the hallway, sitting back with a disappointed look on her face.

“He’s not here. You know the army doctor you’re always with?”

Sherlock’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “John Watson?”

“Yes him. The man was shorter than he was.”

“Is that why you were laying on the floor? You were measuring?” He interrupted. She nodded, eyes lighting up.

“Yes! And the shoes were almost as big as yours,” she reached down and touched a spot a few centimeters from the end of the detectives shoes. “Right there. They looked like clown shoes, but nobody would take me seriously.” She huffed. “‘They’re not that big, Y/n.’ ‘People have big feet sometimes.’”

“Someone said that to you?” He asked, face pinching in what could be considered sympathy. She nodded.

“My dad and Miss Donovan.”

Sherlock tisked, unfortunately, able to relate to the young girl. “They’re all very small minded. Just ignore them. What else did you see?”

“Well, the shoes had mud on them.”

“Really?” A lock of dark hair fell across his face as Sherlock tilted his head. “What did it look like?”

“Like splatters. But he didn’t have mud on his trousers, which was odd.”

“Are you sure of that?” She nodded.

“It was like somebody else gave him their shoes.” She said thoughtfully. “Except it was probably the bad guy.”

“What makes you say that?” He asked.

“There was a name on the bottom of the shoes.” She said. “Written in the mud. Mr Anderson made it come off when he moved the dead man.”

“Of course he did. The idiot.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Do you remember the name?”

“Yeah. Dads been talking about him for a while. It said Jim. Jim Moriarty.”

Sherlock nearly jolted with excitement. “You’re sure?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. But you’re probably gonna say what Miss Donovan did. I imagined it, cause it wasn’t there when they looked again.”

“You didn’t imagine it.” Sherlock said with surprising gentleness as he stood. “You’re very bright, Y/n. Now, if you’d like to come with me, we’re telling your father about this.”

“We are?” She asked excitedly, jumping off the couch to join him.

“Of course.” He said, taking her hand. “The game is afoot, little Lestrade.”

~~~

_______

(Bonus Scene)

~ ~ ~

Lestrade sighed, dragging a hand over his face before glancing up at the duo standing in his office.

“So, taken to my daughter, have you Sherlock?” He asked tiredly.

“Well, if you can’t nurture her mind she’ll turn into a female M-o-r-i-a-r-t-y,” he spelt quickly. “So if you won’t, then I will.”

Lestrade sighed in frustration. “You don’t even like children!”

“Well yours happens to be exceptionally bright, and holds a better conversation than most adults. So, Graham, are you going to listen to her now?”

“It’s Greg,” he muttered, sighing again before looking at his daughter. “Alright then, love. What have you got?”

Te little girl grinned excitedly, looking to Sherlock. He gave her an encouraging wink and she looked back to her father.

“The man had a name on his shoes, dad...”

~~~

_______

(End)

Uncle Locky (Sherlock X Niece!Reader)

Characters: Sherlock Holmes X Niece!Reader, Mycroft X Daughter!Reader

Universe: Sherlock

Warnings: None

Request: Before I begin I just want to say I am a huge fan of your blog, its pretty great. Anyway, I was wondering if you could do a one shot where the reader is Mycroft’s infant daughter and is being babysat by Sherlock and there is just a whole lot of fluff. Thanks!!

“Sherlock?” John called as soon as he entered the apartment. Sherlock looked up, looking confused. “Why are you cleaning the apartment? You never clean.” John mentioned, looking around the space. All experiments were hidden from sight, books were on the bookshelf, and piles of cases were hidden away from sight. The floor was clear and the furniture was wiped down.

Keep reading

the urge to write a bcc sherlock x child!oc as a father and daughter duo is really nagging at my soul.

for some reason, part of me has decided that neteyam, ao'nung and näytle would be a poly relationship purely because i think they would be cute together 😭

also i removed one of my works purely because I've decided that the ending does not fit them, and also because hahah it really didn't do well

avatar: the way of water - neytiri icons !

please reblog or save if you use!

hey everyone! decided to make a little multifandom icon account :) i might take requests soon but for now they're closed. planning to make some avatar-related icons hehe ;)

if you're interested, the account is @scrycovens !

when your parents single-handedly get you hyperfixated on another show with blue water people in it just by rewatching it

i have rewatched atwow in the cinema and yall better prepare for the neteyam x näytle angst post

𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 - 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

with näytle's birthday arriving soon, neteyam rushes to get her a gift, consulting his youngest sister for some help.

– pairings: neteyam x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, cross-posted on wattpad, not edited!

– author's note: as requested by @xoxobabe , this oneshot is part 2 to this oneshot! i recommend reading it first before this one!

“Neteyam! Neteyam!”

The said older brother turned around with a confused glance before his eyes landed on the youngest of his sisters. Tuktirey ran towards her brother with the widest of grins, a small, unknown beaded item in her hands.

“Tuk? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Neteyam rushed to the thirteen-year-old’s side, kneeling down to her height as he lifted her arms to check for wounds.

Despite the six years the Sully family had returned to the rest of the Omaticaya clan, Tuk’s spirit remained young, almost as though she was still seven. And she explored the Pandoran forests with just as much vigour and wonder.

“No, I’m okay, Nete!” Tuk grinned. “But look what Näytle made me! I saw her by the river picking up some pebbles, and I told her how pretty they were, and she gathered some string and made an anklet for me! Isn’t it beautiful?”

Neteyam gently dropped Tuk’s arm, glancing at the anklet that Tuk raised up at him in excitement. Little blue pebbles glimmered in the light, surrounded by brown streaks of leather. The young man wondered if she had been planning to weave something in the first place, and it was just luck that his youngest sibling had stumbled upon his match.

He hummed in thought. Her birthday would be approaching soon, and he couldn’t find a gift that could match her radiant personality, her enchanting grin, and her wonder-struck eyes. He needed to think of a gift fast… and maybe this was his chance.

Gently taking the woven accessory, Neteyam rubbed his thumb against the shiny stones before looking at Tuk inquisitively.

“Tuk-Tuk, do you know… could– could you teach me how to weave?” Neteyam looked over at Tuk hesitantly, almost as though embarrassed that he didn’t know much about how to weave. 

Now, Neteyam was a master of many things; tracking, making the perfect, clean kill, and being the bravest warrior in his home clan. He even adopted the culture of the Metkayina clan and was the diplomat between his siblings and the Metkayina Olo’eyktan’s children. 

But one thing Neteyam could not grasp the concept of… was weaving. 

When Kiri and Lo’ak had decided to make Tuk a reef loincloth as a welcoming gift to warm her up to their temporary new home by the sea, he had only gathered the dried seeds. He was embarrassed to say that he had messed up the braiding of the leather strands so badly, that Kiri had taken over weaving the cloth pieces together.

Ever since then, Neteyam had never touched the topic of weaving, living in fear of being ridiculed for his lack of knowledge or skill in it. 

Tuk raised her browline at her brother’s sudden interest to learn, remembering how reluctant he was to relearn her hobby. A smile grew on her grin as she came to a realisation, scooching closer towards her eldest brother.

“If I help teach you how to weave a pretty bracelet for Näytle, what’s in it for me?” She smirked slyly.

“I never said that I wanted to weave her anything!” Neteyam protested, but the warmth in his cheeks was what gave him away as Tuk nodded her head with her sneakiest grin.

“No, but you sure implied it when you asked me to teach you what you hate to do.”

Neteyam stuttered, wondering where his sister had learned to be so cunning. 

He finally let out a huff of annoyance, realising that if he didn’t ask her, he would never learn how to weave, as Kiri would be too hands-on, taking over if he made the slightest mistake. And Lo’ak would be quite useless, laughing at his every error until he would feel like giving up. Tuk was the nicest and most forgiving person to teach him if anything.

“Fine,” Neteyam scowled, sitting down beside his sister. “I’ll let you join us on our weekly tracking sessions.”

“Then it’s a deal!” Tuk grinned from ear to ear. “Now all you gotta do is be patient, and watch carefully…”

“Tuktirey are you sure you are teaching me the right method? Because this looks terrible!”

“Nete, you’re being too impatient,” Tuk groaned, untangling the mess her brother had made of the leather strands.

Two days had passed, and the bracelet was almost done. But unfortunately, Neteyam’s impatience had begun to drag him down.

The youngest Sully gently pulled the beads and pebbles that her brother had carefully selected for his beloved, placing them on the ground as she used her demonstrating leather strings to show him the right way to weave the band once again.

“Watch carefully. And take it in slowly,” Tuk eyed her brother. “You still have time to give the gift to her. It is not like her birthday is tomorrow.”

Neteyam frowned, his browline furrowed before he let out a sigh. He remained silent, letting his thoughts consume him as he slowly followed Tuk’s actions, the brown strings overlapping one another as he added one bead to the ribbon.

What if it looked messy? What if she didn’t like it? What if he disappointed her so terribly?

“Neteyam.”

What if after knowing him better she thought that he was just an average member of the clan? Would she leave him for someone better?

“Neteyam!”

Tuk’s voice cut the thoughts short, the eldest son turning his head around to look at her as the beads in his hair softly knocked against one another. Tuk knew that he was lost in his thoughts, and as much as she loved her brother, his only downfall was how scared he was of failure.

Tuk let out a soft sigh, placing her hand on Neteyam’s shoulder, the future Olo’eyktan watching her movement in confusion.

“Don’t worry so much about how it looks,” Tuk smiled gently. “You’re making a great effort and I know that she’s going to love it, whether it’s messy or not.”

Neteyam’s expression softened, a small smile growing as Tuk continued to weave, her brother watching as he copied, adding more glittering beads and small stones. He smiled to himself, glad to have his sister help him try. He was glad that his growing affection for Näytle gave him a reason to try.

“Tuk-Tuk?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. For your patience,” Neteyam smiled softly.

“I’m always happy to help you, Nete,” Tuk smiled, completing the demonstrative bracelet. “But I’m glad you put in the effort.”

Neteyam looked down, discovering that he had finished the bracelet sooner than he expected. He lifted the string, passing the accessory to Tuk, who secured it all together tightly so that the beads wouldn’t fall out.

“Now don’t forget the promise you made me,” Tuk grinned cheekily, Neteyam chuckling as he ruffled her braided hair.

“Never, Tuktirey. Even if I did, you’d never let me forget it!”

Tuk giggled along with her brother, the two smiling as the youngest sibling handed the now-completed bracelet back to her brother.

“Good! Now go and think about how you’re gonna give her the gift,” Tuk pat her brother’s back proudly. “We can’t have two days of effort go to waste if you’re going to be a bumbling mess.”

“Really Tuk-Tuk?” Neteyam deadpanned, huffing playfully with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The young man’s sly grin grew, lunging towards his sister as his fingers ran all over his younger sister’s torso. Her howls of laughter filled the air as she struggled to push her brother off.

“I was joking! I swear!”

Näytle’s birthday had finally rolled around and Neteyam watched from afar the woman he had grown fond of, sitting by the same river Tuk had found her by previously. His breath was slightly shaky as he fiddled with her gift nervously.

As weeks passed from the day they had met, he had grown to see her as a trusted friend, and his affection for her surely grew with every passing day. He began to see the world around her through her eyes, just like his father had done with his mother, and he loved every bit of it.

He took in a deep breath, internally praying to the Great Mother that he wouldn’t look like a fool as he heard her voice humming a little melody. Slowly, Neteyam approached his partner, a soft smile gracing his face as he saw the way she turned to face him.

“Teyam!”

His heart fluttered at the way her smile grew. The way she was so eager to see him, to be with him. He watched the way she stood up as she walked towards him, the young man taking a few steps towards her as well.

“Oel ngati kameie,” Neteyam grinned as she hugged him tight.

He buried himself in her presence, hugging her just as tightly back. When they pulled away, he missed her warmth, but calmly brought his hand up to her cheek, resting his larger palm on it.

“I missed you,” Näytle placed her hand atop of his, leaning into his touch. “When you didn’t show up I was concerned.”

“I apologise, my love,” He pecked her forehead as she flushed. “But I heard from a little bird that it was your birthday, and I simply had to get you a gift.”

“Teyam,” Her eyes widened and a small smile appeared. “You didn’t have to get me a gift. Your presence is simply enough.”

“Well, I couldn’t help myself. So I…” Neteyam took in a sharp inhale. “I made you this.”

Neteyam’s grip on the bracelet loosened as he held the item out before her. He heard her gasp, watching as awe and adoration growing clear on her visage while she gently held the item. 

He saw the way she smiled, a smile of his own creeping onto his face. He tilted his head, finding her expressions adorable as her tail gave away her excitement.

“Do you like it?” He hummed, watching the way she nodded.

“Yes, yes! I love it, Teyam! It’s beautiful,” She placed her hand on his cheek before pecking him briefly on his lips.

Neteyam’s eyes widened and his pupils dilated as he felt his heart pump harder. His smile grew wider as he gently took the bracelet in his hands again. It was that moment when he let all his doubts fade away.

It was the moment that he saw how genuinely happy he made her. How her glowing smile and love-filled eyes were caused by him.

“Would you like me to put it on for you?”

“Of course,” She hummed as he held her wrist gently, almost as though she were made of glass.

Neteyam gently tied the string around her wrist, admiring the way her smile shone so brightly. He tugged at the string softly, just as how she had tugged at his heartstrings. Finally, it was around her wrist, and he had never felt more pride swell in his chest than he did at that moment.

He was definitely going to thank Tuk for her help with a lot more tracking sessions later.

“I love it, so so much,” Näytle whispered in awe, looking up at him as she held the bracelet. “I’m never going to take it off.”

With the way she had said it so seriously, Neteyam let out a boisterous laugh, genuinely happy that she had adored his gift so much so that she would never let it go. He hoped that she’d do the same with his heart.

“Ma Näytle,” He cooed, pushing some stray strands of hair behind her pointed blue ear. “I see you. And I’m glad that we were matched.”

She smiled up at him, tip-toeing as she placed a soft kiss on his forehead before she cupped both his cheeks. She hummed, placing another kiss on his lips as he wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to hold her closer than he possibly could.

The two lovers then pulled away, Näytle’s hands still gently cupping Neteyam’s cheeks as she rested her forehead on his, trying her best to steady her rapid heartbeat.

“Ma Teyam,” He still adored the way his name rolled off her tongue.

“I couldn’t have agreed more.”

theme inspired by @aokoaoi !

gif by @peace--n--love

taglist: @mooncleaver @moonie-writings @peacelovepandora @neteyams-tsahik

— dm me if you want to be apart of my taglist!

𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 - 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

age-old traditions were to be continued for generations, but when it finally comes down to the toruk makto's son, he's not so willing to comply...

– pairings: neteyam x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, cross-posted on wattpad

– author's note: this oneshot takes place after the events of avatar 2 because i refuse to believe that neteyam is gone.

translations:

– ma tìrol [my son] – zamunge fko [strong one]

Being given an arranged mate was something like a toss of a coin. It was sheer luck if you ended up loving the one you were destined to be with.

Despite the arrangements of suitors being highly disliked, Neytiri turned back to the tradition of her forefathers, a part of her following the custom in memory of the late Olo’eyktan, Eytukan. As much as he didn’t like it, Jake followed his wife’s wishes, knowing how much her culture and her father meant to her.

And so, with the consultation of the current tsahik, Neytiri and Mo’at had decided who her firstborn would be promised to, both looking at the candidates for the next tsahik. It was decided that the matched pair would be introduced when Neytiri’s son, Neteyam, the next in line for Olo’eyktan, was of age to be part of the People.

Unfortunately, the young man hated it. Neteyam hated the notion of not being able to experience falling in love, and he had hoped that he would be able to understand the look his parents shared when they looked at one another, and share it with someone who would be his equal.

Sure, he would try his best to get along with whoever was planned to be by his side as his mate. But for all he could know, they would’ve already been in love with someone else, and it was just another unlucky draw.

He dreaded the way his parents spoke of his arranged mate. His mother passed him a slightly pitiful look, and his father only gave his wife a guilty one, knowing what happened previously between her and her chosen mate.

So far, he had turned down nine of the women his mother and grandmother had introduced to him, and he had turned them all down. They just didn't click to him, especially after most of them had passed him thoughtless grins with wandering eyes. 

His mother was at the end of her rope, praying to the Great Mother that this time, her son would consider her current option to be the next tsahik. Besides, all she wanted was for her son to be happy and loved, just as she was. And she was starting to lose hope.

“Nete,” Neytiri frowned, trying to convince her son. “If you’re lucky, she would love you, and you could grow to love her.”

“But mother, I want to be a mate to someone I’m already in love with!” The firstborn protested, his frown deepening at his mother’s suggestion.

“And are you already in love with someone?”

Neteyam looked away, knowing that he indeed hadn’t found that special someone. Yet. He grumbled with crossed arms, Neytiri sighing as she hugged her son’s head close to her.

“Ay… Ma tìrol…” Neytiri muttered as Neteyam hugged his mother slightly tighter. “Give her a chance. She could be the one, only Eywa knows.”

Neteyam closed his eyes slowly, knowing that he couldn’t argue with his mother anymore. He let out a slow breath as he pulled away, nodding slowly. Seeing this, Neytiri’s smile returned, and the mother placed her palm lovingly on her son’s cheek, the boy leaning into her touch.

“But if I feel like things won’t turn out right for us, I want to choose who I am mated with,” Neteyam spoke up again, looking his mother in the eye, determination set in his features.

Neytiri pursed her lips, her turn to nod slowly as the two came to an agreement. If he agreed to follow her terms, she would agree to follow his.

The day of the meeting had eventually crawled by, Neteyam inwardly groaning before keeping his mind open to the one he was supposed to meet.

He did his best to realise that whoever he was meant to meet was promised to him as he was to her, so they were both stuck in the same boat.

Neteyam watched the way his mother smiled, and from it he knew that she was confident that things would work out. He was partially ready to prove her wrong.

"Nete, remember to keep an open mind," Neytiri smiled, pushing her closer to the little healing hut where Mo'at usually worked.

"Mother, why are we at grandmother's healing hut?" Neteyam raised his browline in confusion.

"She works under the tsahik to learn to heal. Her name is Näytle te Ìviu Oa'ite. Find out more about her, maybe you could both share common interests," Neytiri grinned, nudging her son closer. 

But just as Neteyam was within the radius of the hut, Neytiri grabbed her firstborn son's shoulder, whispering in his ear as the young man listened to her every word.

"Her mother has decided that the two of you shall meet each other first. She does not know that you will be arriving to meet her," Neytiri nodded. "I will not be following you in, but I can only trust you to make a good impression."

"Mother!" Neteyam frowned back as he glanced at Neytiri in annoyance at her meddling.

"Ma tìrol, she's keeping an open mind you must do the same," Neytiri gently kissed her son's cheek before pushing him towards the hut.

"Now go!"

Neteyam muttered curses under his breath, walking towards the hut with his browline furrowed.

Neytiri watched from afar as her son stormed off, placing her hand gently on her chest as she glanced up at the sky.

"May Eywa guide them towards a path of happiness."

“Hello?” Neteyam called out to the fairly empty hut. 

He walked around, trying to find the woman he was meant to meet. He peered around the pillars of the hut as he decided to try calling her out by her name, walking deeper into the wooden-built structure.

“Näytle?” 

He called the woman's name out as he passed by other Omaticayan healers who simply pointed him in the direction of where the mentioned healer would be.

From within a far corner of the shelter, Mo’at’s ears perked up at her student’s name, recognising her grandson’s voice. A small grin grew on her face as the tsahik gently tapped her protégés back.

“Näytle,” She turned to the young woman who was tending to a small Omaticayan boy’s minor wounds.

“Yes, tsahik?” The doe-eyed Na'vi woman turned to face her with a small smile.

Her eyes were filled with eagerness to learn from her mentor, her soft smile showing glimpses of kindness and hospitality that was very much needed in the medicinal part of the Omaticaya.

"My child," Mo'at placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder tenderly. "I am going to go gather with Olo'eyktan Sully and his wife. I need you and the other healers to make sure that whoever needs healing gets it as soon as possible." 

"Of course," Näytle nodded eagerly. "I'm glad you have entrusted me with this, tsahik."

The younger female turned her attention back to the child before her, wiping her hands free of the healing salve before wrapping his wounds up with some long leaves.

"Of course, my child," Mo'at smiled before stepping towards the back exit. "Oh, and I think you should be expecting a visit from someone."

"Who should I be expecting?" Näytle asked the older woman, but as she turned around, the tsahik was gone.

Näytle frowned in confusion as she gently turned to the young boy in front of her, patting his head as she softly spoke to him. She saw the way the boy grew a frown at the sight of his tended wound.

"Don't worry, zamunge fko," Näytle ruffled the boy's hair. "The pain will pass with time, as all things do."

She turned around, kneeling while holding a small piece of traditional candy, or something similar to it, the boy's frown disappearing.

"For your bravery."

The boy took the sweet, running off as the healer smiled warmly at child's burst of energy, unaware of the figure that watched her actions from afar.

"Näytle?"

The girl turned around, now face to face with a taller Na'vi. He appeared to be her height. She was surprised, especially when she couldn't hear the person's footsteps. Perhaps he was a hunter in aid of wounds he gained from the hunting group earlier. 

"Yes, that would be me," The healer responded, standing up from her kneeled position. 

Näytle watched the young man in front of her, taking in his appearance as she glanced him up and down for any wounds that needed tending.

He was attractive, she wouldn't deny that. The energy and wonder in his eyes about the world around him wasn't easy to miss. They hid in specks of ocre and gold that flickered brightly in the light of the hut.

His stature was built, one of a proud warrior. His beaded hair moved with the slightest movement of his head, little clinking noises of the beads knocking against one another caught her attention as she thought the braids framed his face perfectly.

If she could say, she would tell him that he looked as though Eywa herself handcrafted him to fit her image of perfection.

"Oel ngati kameie."

I see you.

Näytle nodded respectfully, repeating his action, without realising how his heart jumped in his throat when he said the phrase.

He couldn't tell if it was the way she interacted with the child, the way that she was filled with so much love and kindness for the life around her, but there was something special about her. Something just beautiful. Something that the other women lacked when he met them.

Her physical beauty in his eyes just emphasised that something special. He didn't know what it was, but there was something about her eyes that just made him want to discover more about her.

"Do I know you?" The woman before him, Näytle, spoke. 

Her gentle voice bounced around in his head, and he treasured the way it sounded for a few minutes longer.

"Neteyam," He placed his hand on his chest. "My name's Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan."

He watched the way her eyes widened in realisation, embarrassment flooding through her cheeks as they flushed.

He adored the way she looked so cute and flustered.

"My apologies!" She nervously tucked a strand of braided hair behind her ear. "I hadn't realised that you were coming to visit!"

The guilt of not recognising the Toruk Makto's son had lingered in her stomach, but it vanished when she heard him chuckle.

"No, it's alright! You have never seen me before?" Neteyam tilted his head slightly, amusement filling him.

"Ah, unfortunately not. From where I stand in the crowd, it's always too far to get a good look."

The young woman picked up the bowl of salve, walking towards a nearby table to keep the balm away. Her tail flicked mischievously as she formed her next words jokingly

"I have heard stories that he is undeniably handsome, though."

"Have you now?" Neteyam perked up, a small grin unknowingly growing on his face.

"Yes," The woman smiled, taking some leaves from nearby and taking them towards another table where a Na'vi equivalent of motar and pestle lay.

"What else might you have heard?"

Neteyam prodded on, leaning on the counter next to the female Na'vi. 

"I heard that he was a skilled hunter, a hunter that was much sought after by other women."

"Well, that's a pity," Neteyam shrugged. "They would have to do without me."

"And why would they have to?" Näytle gave him a questioning glance, tilting her head towards him slightly, as the circular motion of her hands slowed.

Neteyam's eyes glanced down at the wooden counter beneath his hands, feeling suddenly nervous.

Because perhaps, he was falling in love.

"Because I have been matched. And I wouldn't mind getting to know the woman I have been matched with."

Näytle smiled softly, her smile growing. She placed the pestle on the table.

The young woman held her hand out to the young hunter before her.

"Let's get to know each other then. It was nice to meet you, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan."

"Please," The Olo'eyktan's son took her softer, smaller hand into his, holding it gently.

"Neteyam is just fine."

He bent down, gently kissing the back of her hand, something he had seen his father do as a sign of affection towards his mother.

He saw the way her cheeks flushed, his smile growing wider at her suddenly shy state.

"And it's a pleasure to meet you too, Näytle."

His mother had proved him wrong, and for once, he didn't mind. Maybe this time, being arranged together didn't sound too bad.

theme inspired by @aokoaoi !

gif by @world-of-pandora

taglist: @mooncleaver @moonie-writings @peacelovepandora @neteyams-tsahik

— dm me if you want to be apart of my taglist!

i think i've decided to change my blog into a writing-centred blog,,, will be making major changes around my profile and deleting a lot of my posts :')

i will only keep the drawings that are related to what i want to do, i suppose, and that probably includes fandoms that im not really active in anymore.

AHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! <3

𝐛𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐚'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 - 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

neteyam sully had always been the responsible older brother, and part of that was looking after his rogue younger brother. And maybe becoming a regular patient at the local healers...

– pairings: neteyam x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, cross-posted on wattpad

– author's note: this oneshot takes place about a year or so before the main events of avatar 2 (the evacuation of the sullys, etc.)

Neteyam Sully, respectfully, was the golden child. The one who could do no wrong.

Lo’ak Sully, on the other hand, was on the opposite end of that table. He was chaotic, rogue, and off-leash. Everything about him was to uproot his brother, to make his father notice him, albeit for the wrong reasons. And this often led to Neteyam taking the blame for his younger brother’s actions.

It became a habit. Lo’ak finds trouble, Neteyam is dragged along and the two of them end up with injuries. Well, that was the reason for the current situation that they were in.

Neteyam stood beside his brother, Lo’ak looking shamefully down at the ground as Jake had his arms crossed. The Toruk Makto let out a frustrated sigh at both his sons’ antics, gazing over their wounds.

Thankfully, it was nothing too serious, mainly scratches that bled a little along with bruises that could easily be healed with some salves.

Jake let out another huff as he pointed a finger at his younger son, Lo’ak’s gaze snapping up to meet his dad’s while Neteyam watched in silence.

“You are both grounded, no more flying off on your ikran without my permission for a week,” Jake huffed. “Neteyam, take Lo’ak to Mo’at so that she can heal the both of you. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Neteyam responded clearly enough for his father to understand.

Lo’ak muttered under his breath and Neteyam elbowed his brother in a way that told him to keep his mouth shut. Jake’s eyes widened at his son’s defiance.

“I said, have I made myself clear?” Jake gave Lo'ak a stern look and Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek nervously.

"Yes, sir," Lo'ak strained out.

"Good. Now get yourselves patched up."

With that, Lo'ak stormed out with Neteyam trailing behind him. But before the eldest son could leave, Jake placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Keep an eye out so that your brother doesn't cause more trouble," Jake sighed. "And I think you might want to get familiar with the other healers. Just in case, for future purposes."

"Yes sir."

“Grandmother!” 

Neteyam called out to Mo’at as he entered the hut, a grumbling Lo’ak following behind. 

“Grandmother, we might need some help with our injuries!” The eldest child frowned at the absence of his grandmother’s visage.

“Grandmother?” Neteyam called out again before hearing a thud behind him.

The boy whipped around to find that another figure had hopped down from a nearby branch, their face covered by curly locks.

“The tsahik has left to collect more herbs.” Her soft voice spoke as she approached the two brothers.

The girl put on a soft smile as she greeted the Olo’ekytan’s sons with their traditional greeting. From there, the boys took in her appearance, noting that she couldn’t be much younger than Neteyam.

Feathers dangled from her necklace, the upper layer a mint green, the lower a crimson red while another choker-like necklace was settled higher up on her neck, semi-precious stones attached to it. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” She smiled, and for a minute, Neteyam thought he felt his heartbeat stutter.

Lo’ak returned the gesture, nodding at the girl before glancing over at his brother. The younger son stared at the elder one in confusion as he elbowed his brother from his frozen state.

Neteyam blinked, pushing Lo’ak’s elbow away before hurriedly repeating the hand gesture of their greeting, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” He muttered, snapping out of his daze. “Are you… Are you a healer?”

“In training,” the girl replied with a kind smile. ”The tsahik entrusted me to take care of her healing place and to help in case anything were to happen. She predicted correctly, as per usual.”

Neteyam chuckled with a bright smile, something that didn’t pass Lo’ak’s suspicious stare.

“Well, grandmother is always right about most things,” he grinned. “So if you’re in charge, could you help tend to our wounds then?”

“Of course,” she beamed with a joking twinkle in her eye. “It is a healer’s job to heal, isn’t it?”

Lo’ak noticed how his brother didn’t reply at all, only smiling as though he were in a trance as the girl sat him down on a nearby cot. The younger brother followed, a small mischievous smile growing on his face as he realized his brother’s giddy grin.

Neyetam himself hadn't realized it, but he was enamored by her grace and poise as she walked around the hut, gathering the salves. He smiled gently at the way her hair framed her face perfectly. 

He felt as though whenever her kind eyes met his, he was being pulled into something dangerous but calming at the same time. And unknowingly, his heart beat a little bit harder when she placed her hand gently against the wound on his arm, the healing balms cooling on her finger tips.

Her hands were immaculately soft, and he felt his cheeks warm at the sensation. Neteyam quickly glanced away from the healer as soon as he saw how dangerously close her face was to his. He spotted her ochre eyes focused on treating his injury through her lashes, but he didn’t feel the sting of the salve meeting his skin.

“So, uh,” Lo’ak began, clearing his throat as the girl looked up at his brother’s direction.

“What’s your name?”

Neteyam’s face heated up in embarrassment at the thought of staring at her for so long without even knowing the girl’s name. He was internally thankful that Lo’ak spoke up.

“Näytle,” The girl smiled at the boys. “Näytle Te Ìviu Oa’ite.”

Neteyam repeated her name in her head, committing it to memory as he loved the way her voice so smoothly rang in his mind. 

Suddenly, she called his name and he felt like he was stuck in a daze again. His name rolling off of her tongue sounded so… right.

“Yes?” He blinked in response.

“I said your name correctly, yes?” 

The way her head tilted ever so slightly had his heart melting in his chest.

“Yes, yeah,” he nodded quickly. “Y-You said it perfectly.”

“Oh, thank Eywa I did.” She chuckled lightly as she released his arm. “I would’ve been so embarrassed if I had gotten either of your names wrong.”

“Well it’s hard to get it wrong,” Lo’ak shrugged. “Our names are really popular around the village–”

Lo’ak was interrupted with a silent hiss as he felt his brother lightly slap the back of his head. Näytle giggled at the brothers’ antics, watching the way a dumb grin returned to Neteyam’s face while Lo’ak grumbled, frowning at the gesture.

“No, no,” Näytle shook her head. “Your brother does have a point. You two have both built a reputation as the Olo’eyktan’s sons.”

“Is it anything good?” Neteyam queried with eager eyes, wondering if her thoughts on him were positive. He prayed to Eywa that they were only good things.

“Oh, it is perfectly fine,” the healer hummed with a grin. “I don’t think I would let what I hear from gossipers determine what I should think of you.”

“Well, I think you should expect our visits more often.” Neteyam placed up at the girl shyly.

“Why? Are both of you troublemakers?” Näytle gave him a questioning look and the older boy shook his head vehemently.

“Only Lo’ak. I’m just keeping an eye out for him.”

“Hey!”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not getting any injuries.”

Lo’ak huffed at his older brother for throwing him under the bus in such a fashion, especially for a girl.

“Well try not to be injured too much,” Näytle lifted her fingers from Lo’ak’s scraped knee, the salve applying smoothly on his rigid skin as she pulled away to return the lotions used.

“We can’t have the future Olo’eyktan be in bad condition before his rule.”

The girl finished off, tossing him a wink and Neteyam laughed stupidly at the joke. 

Lo’ak stood up from the cot, rolling his eyes in mock disgust as he grabbed his brother’s uninjured arm, dragging Neteyam away from his love-stricken stupor. 

“Yeah, okay! No promises though!” Neteyam called out from the hut’s doorway to where Näytle stood.

“Come on, skxawng,” Lo’ak grumbled, dragging his older brother away. “Your ogling eyes make me sick.”

“Maybe if you didn’t get us in trouble so much you wouldn’t be suffering now.” Neteyam ruffled his younger brother’s hair. 

“Besides, I don’t get what’s making you so sick. She’s a great healer.”

“Oh brother,” Lo’ak smiled at his brother in disbelief, his confident stride halting. “You’re seriously not this dense, are you?”

Neteyam’s confused smile was all the proof that Lo’ak needed to know that his brother was utterly clueless about his feelings towards the beautiful healer who homed the hut not too far from where they stood. 

“Maybe it was by Eywa’s will that you met her.” Lo’ak scoffed. “This is the worst punishment for my actions ever.”

theme inspired by @aokoaoi !

gif by @world-of-pandora

taglist: @mooncleaver @moonie-writings @peacelovepandora

𝐛𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐚'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 - 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

neteyam sully had always been the responsible older brother, and part of that was looking after his rogue younger brother. And maybe becoming a regular patient at the local healers...

– pairings: neteyam x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, cross-posted on wattpad

– author's note: this oneshot takes place about a year or so before the main events of avatar 2 (the evacuation of the sullys, etc.)

Neteyam Sully, respectfully, was the golden child. The one who could do no wrong.

Lo’ak Sully, on the other hand, was on the opposite end of that table. He was chaotic, rogue, and off-leash. Everything about him was to uproot his brother, to make his father notice him, albeit for the wrong reasons. And this often led to Neteyam taking the blame for his younger brother’s actions.

It became a habit. Lo’ak finds trouble, Neteyam is dragged along and the two of them end up with injuries. Well, that was the reason for the current situation that they were in.

Neteyam stood beside his brother, Lo’ak looking shamefully down at the ground as Jake had his arms crossed. The Toruk Makto let out a frustrated sigh at both his sons’ antics, gazing over their wounds.

Thankfully, it was nothing too serious, mainly scratches that bled a little along with bruises that could easily be healed with some salves.

Jake let out another huff as he pointed a finger at his younger son, Lo’ak’s gaze snapping up to meet his dad’s while Neteyam watched in silence.

“You are both grounded, no more flying off on your ikran without my permission for a week,” Jake huffed. “Neteyam, take Lo’ak to Mo’at so that she can heal the both of you. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Neteyam responded clearly enough for his father to understand.

Lo’ak muttered under his breath and Neteyam elbowed his brother in a way that told him to keep his mouth shut. Jake’s eyes widened at his son’s defiance.

“I said, have I made myself clear?” Jake gave Lo'ak a stern look and Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek nervously.

"Yes, sir," Lo'ak strained out.

"Good. Now get yourselves patched up."

With that, Lo'ak stormed out with Neteyam trailing behind him. But before the eldest son could leave, Jake placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Keep an eye out so that your brother doesn't cause more trouble," Jake sighed. "And I think you might want to get familiar with the other healers. Just in case, for future purposes."

"Yes sir."

“Grandmother!” 

Neteyam called out to Mo’at as he entered the hut, a grumbling Lo’ak following behind. 

“Grandmother, we might need some help with our injuries!” The eldest child frowned at the absence of his grandmother’s visage.

“Grandmother?” Neteyam called out again before hearing a thud behind him.

The boy whipped around to find that another figure had hopped down from a nearby branch, their face covered by curly locks.

“The tsahik has left to collect more herbs.” Her soft voice spoke as she approached the two brothers.

The girl put on a soft smile as she greeted the Olo’ekytan’s sons with their traditional greeting. From there, the boys took in her appearance, noting that she couldn’t be much younger than Neteyam.

Feathers dangled from her necklace, the upper layer a mint green, the lower a crimson red while another choker-like necklace was settled higher up on her neck, semi-precious stones attached to it. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” She smiled, and for a minute, Neteyam thought he felt his heartbeat stutter.

Lo’ak returned the gesture, nodding at the girl before glancing over at his brother. The younger son stared at the elder one in confusion as he elbowed his brother from his frozen state.

Neteyam blinked, pushing Lo’ak’s elbow away before hurriedly repeating the hand gesture of their greeting, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” He muttered, snapping out of his daze. “Are you… Are you a healer?”

“In training,” the girl replied with a kind smile. ”The tsahik entrusted me to take care of her healing place and to help in case anything were to happen. She predicted correctly, as per usual.”

Neteyam chuckled with a bright smile, something that didn’t pass Lo’ak’s suspicious stare.

“Well, grandmother is always right about most things,” he grinned. “So if you’re in charge, could you help tend to our wounds then?”

“Of course,” she beamed with a joking twinkle in her eye. “It is a healer’s job to heal, isn’t it?”

Lo’ak noticed how his brother didn’t reply at all, only smiling as though he were in a trance as the girl sat him down on a nearby cot. The younger brother followed, a small mischievous smile growing on his face as he realized his brother’s giddy grin.

Neyetam himself hadn't realized it, but he was enamored by her grace and poise as she walked around the hut, gathering the salves. He smiled gently at the way her hair framed her face perfectly. 

He felt as though whenever her kind eyes met his, he was being pulled into something dangerous but calming at the same time. And unknowingly, his heart beat a little bit harder when she placed her hand gently against the wound on his arm, the healing balms cooling on her finger tips.

Her hands were immaculately soft, and he felt his cheeks warm at the sensation. Neteyam quickly glanced away from the healer as soon as he saw how dangerously close her face was to his. He spotted her ochre eyes focused on treating his injury through her lashes, but he didn’t feel the sting of the salve meeting his skin.

“So, uh,” Lo’ak began, clearing his throat as the girl looked up at his brother’s direction.

“What’s your name?”

Neteyam’s face heated up in embarrassment at the thought of staring at her for so long without even knowing the girl’s name. He was internally thankful that Lo’ak spoke up.

“Näytle,” The girl smiled at the boys. “Näytle Te Ìviu Oa’ite.”

Neteyam repeated her name in her head, committing it to memory as he loved the way her voice so smoothly rang in his mind. 

Suddenly, she called his name and he felt like he was stuck in a daze again. His name rolling off of her tongue sounded so… right.

“Yes?” He blinked in response.

“I said your name correctly, yes?” 

The way her head tilted ever so slightly had his heart melting in his chest.

“Yes, yeah,” he nodded quickly. “Y-You said it perfectly.”

“Oh, thank Eywa I did.” She chuckled lightly as she released his arm. “I would’ve been so embarrassed if I had gotten either of your names wrong.”

“Well it’s hard to get it wrong,” Lo’ak shrugged. “Our names are really popular around the village–”

Lo’ak was interrupted with a silent hiss as he felt his brother lightly slap the back of his head. Näytle giggled at the brothers’ antics, watching the way a dumb grin returned to Neteyam’s face while Lo’ak grumbled, frowning at the gesture.

“No, no,” Näytle shook her head. “Your brother does have a point. You two have both built a reputation as the Olo’eyktan’s sons.”

“Is it anything good?” Neteyam queried with eager eyes, wondering if her thoughts on him were positive. He prayed to Eywa that they were only good things.

“Oh, it is perfectly fine,” the healer hummed with a grin. “I don’t think I would let what I hear from gossipers determine what I should think of you.”

“Well, I think you should expect our visits more often.” Neteyam glanced up at the girl shyly.

“Why? Are both of you troublemakers?” Näytle gave him a questioning look and the older boy shook his head vehemently.

“Only Lo’ak. I’m just keeping an eye out for him.”

“Hey!”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not getting any injuries.”

Lo’ak huffed at his older brother for throwing him under the bus in such a fashion, especially for a girl.

“Well try not to be injured too much,” Näytle lifted her fingers from Lo’ak’s scraped knee, the salve applying smoothly on his rigid skin as she pulled away to return the lotions used.

“We can’t have the future Olo’eyktan be in bad condition before his rule.”

The girl finished off, tossing him a wink and Neteyam laughed stupidly at the joke. 

Lo’ak stood up from the cot, rolling his eyes in mock disgust as he grabbed his brother’s uninjured arm, dragging Neteyam away from his love-stricken stupor. 

“Yeah, okay! No promises though!” Neteyam called out from the hut’s doorway to where Näytle stood.

“Come on, skxawng,” Lo’ak grumbled, dragging his older brother away. “Your ogling eyes make me sick.”

“Maybe if you didn’t get us in trouble so much you wouldn’t be suffering now.” Neteyam ruffled his younger brother’s hair. 

“Besides, I don’t get what’s making you so sick. She’s a great healer.”

“Oh brother,” Lo’ak smiled at his brother in disbelief, his confident stride halting. “You’re seriously not this dense, are you?”

Neteyam’s confused smile was all the proof that Lo’ak needed to know that his brother was utterly clueless about his feelings towards the beautiful healer who homed the hut not too far from where they stood. 

“Maybe it was by Eywa’s will that you met her.” Lo’ak scoffed. “This is the worst punishment for my actions ever.”

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