𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

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.

unrelated, but should I dabble in the world of 'x readers' again,,,

Firstly, when you get this, you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)

i guess im doing this again lol! im honoured to be called one of your favourite followers!🫶🫶

i like that i’m determined at whatever i do. i sometimes find that when things get tough i always do my best to pull through and find a way to get things right or to do my best and cimplete whatever i have to do.

i like that i’m proud of what i’ve accomplished. even if it’s the little things, i always feel good after completeing whatever i’ve wanted to do, and i just get little boosts of happiness after!

i like how i take some things slowly. i like to do some things at my own pace, and that’s fine with me! sometimes i just like to enjoy the progress of getting there, seeing things starting from scratch, and growing to completion.

i like how i can multitask (at times). it helps me get through when i do one task which i dislike, and pair with a little hobby i like, just as a little motivation booster (i often tend to doodle or read fics when doing homework).

finally, i like that im persistent. sometimes, even though some have told me that im not good at my hobbies or interests, i still have them as my interests because i love when i’ve done, and i love to see people enjoying what i’ve created.

thanks for the tag @tinkerbelle05 !!

top 5 songs im listening to right now are:

no pressure tags! @kesshavx @littlekidsteve @shzmluvrs @george-fabian-weasley @imagines--galore

tagged by @dandysnob to list 5 songs i've been listening to lately. tysm for the tag, hon! 💞

tagging (no pressure!!): @nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos @briars-glenn @silver-psychopath @evilvvithin @mutsuowo @n3on-graveston3s-calling @kenslilove

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 5

summary: presentation day!

wc: ~300-400

A/N: This is a short one, since there's not much going on. I promise the epilogue will be longer lol. Happy reading!

prev. epilogue

You released a shaky breath as the group just before you wrapped up their presentation. Miles gave you a sidelong glance, noticing the way you clutched your lab report in both hands. You felt him elbow you softly before the two of you took your places at the front of the classroom. Before pulling up your slideshow, he gave you a quick thumbs up and a lopsided smile from behind the laptop. You smiled back at him, and began reciting the results of your lab report.

Miles watched you slowly get comfortable talking as the presentation progressed. The strength and clarity he had heard the other day slipped back into your voice and made it solid. Something clicked when he realized the grin hadn’t left his face for the duration of your part.

The presentation didn’t drag itself out, and was over as soon as he got done working through your chosen problem on the whiteboard. It was the trajectory of a rocket being launched into orbit, nothing crazy. To him.

In a rare show of leniency, Ms. Jones ended class right before the bell.

“Excellent work, everyone. Enjoy your weekend!”

A cluster of backpacks all but swarmed the back door and filtered out into the hallway, excluding you and Miles.

He was doing the neck scratching thing again when you turned to him.

“Thanks for working with me, I think we did a pretty good job,” you said.

The boy nodded wordlessly, and you raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

“Y-yeah, I just…” 

Miles shook his head.

“Do you still need to study? For English, I mean.”

You shrugged and answered, “I’m almost done with the book, but I could come over tomorrow if you want.”

If you want. 

Miles sniffed. He didn’t “want” anything.

“I mean, we gotta essay coming up, so…”

“Ah, shit, I forgot about that. My final draft’s not even finished,” you winced, throwing your book bag over your shoulder. “Alright, tomorrow, then. Same time?”

Miles fought back another smile, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yup. Don’t eat up all my momma’s food while you’re there, though.”

“No promises.”

-

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since im just finalising part 8 of new girl on the block, here’s a little snippet and doodles of jaime to keep you entertained! enjoy!

the way this absolutely breaks my heart is just *chef's kiss*

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (4)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of violence and death. (wc: 4955 )

Neytiri was up early– too early. 

She ran her hands tiredly over her face, her fingernails barely grazing the creases of her skin. Her eyes felt heavy, but it wasn’t tiredness that forced itself to weigh on her lids– it was the dread that continued to settle in; she could hardly make out the sound of the pot blowing out steam, rising in pitch with the soup threatening to boil over. The lid covering the kitchen pan was shaking fiercely, trying desperately to contain itself.

No, who was she kidding? She had lain awake all night, tossing and turning in her hammock. Not a single wink of sleep had been granted to her. 

Neytiri swore her heart cried every time she took a deep breath, gravelly gasping along her. She couldn’t sleep even if she wanted to– not when tuk-tuk quivered in her embrace the whole night; the slightest movement made her flinch and the softest touch made her cry. It was gut-wrenching, the thought that her own child felt no safety in the arms of their mother.

Not my children, eywa. Not them too. 

War had started long before her mate had come, Neytiri couldn’t blame him– but sometimes, late at night when the only sounds that grace her ears are the thoughts running through her head, she dreams of a life away from the wildfire and bullets; a life where she had fulfilled her mother's desires and took Tsu'tey’s hand instead. Every once in a while, the idea pierces her heart as she finds herself tucked in between Jake’s embrace. It felt wrong to think so, like being unfaithful, but not quite.

Tsu’tey was never someone who crossed her thoughts as a person that had gotten away from her, nor had she ever been attracted to him in a romantic way. It would’ve been an union of convenience; for the clan and the people itself. They would be unhappy– unhappy and awfully miserable. With Jake, it was something else entirely; like marriage had more meaning to it rather than a simple alliance. Sure, it was miserable, but they were happy– she was happy. Neytiri could never resent her mate, not when they’ve come so far already.

However, in terms of her children’s well-being, she couldn’t help but think if Jake was the bane of it all– the root of every bad thing that has happened to them. There were no softer words to lay it out, but they deserved better. Her children deserved none of this war. 

She was crying again– crying for them. She let the beads of tears roll down her cheek as she stared afar with not a single coherent thought behind her eyes. 

It was no surprise that Neteyam was already up with the sun rising. He moved quickly, quietly lowering the fire and lifting the lid of the pot with caution— hissing when its hot liquid splashed onto his skin. With a concerned look on his face, he glanced over at his mother who sat an arm’s length away from the very stove; how could she not have heard the loud cackle of her own cooking? He was sure it would’ve caused a wildfire if not for him. 

He slowly moved closer to Neytiri, gingerly reaching out and nudging her with his fingertips. He was mindful not to startle her already tired state. “Sa’nok– sa’nok?” Neteyam called out to her, “Sa’nok, are you okay?” 

Neytiri stirred just slightly, turning her head to view the worried face of her eldest. Her lips thinned involuntarily, a feeling of relief washing over her; her children were here, safe and sound. Nothing will happen to them– not ever.  As long as she lived, they will never be harmed ever again. No demon would take this away from her.

A wave of panic swept over her as she finally realized that she had been cooking before. She quickly turned back to see a billowing cloud of smoke rising from its surface. Neytiri cursed under her breath as her small attempts at fanning away the fog that had settled upon the area were to no avail, finding herself in a fit of coughing. “Why don’t you get y/n?” She requested, voice strained. “She can help with breakfast.” 

With a heavy sigh, Neteyam could only nod, quickly leaving.

Right, y/n– you. When was it never about you? 

Neteyam grumbled as he dragged his feet towards their thatched hut, kicking at every pebble that came across his path with a grunt. It wasn’t you who had woken up early to assist Neytiri nor was the one who had stopped fire from possibly spreading and yet, your name just had to be the first he’d heard today. 

It was you. Always you. 

Neteyam would be a big fat liar if he said it didn’t affect him. He saw you as a parasite – a damn leech that was draining the life out of everyone around him. He couldn't understand why you had to be so selfish and callous; why you were unable to look past Jake’s reprimands when all he desired was your well-being or how you had driven his own mother to such anguish that it became her own undoing. 

You weren’t a kid anymore. On top of that, you weren’t theirs– so why had you always been on top of their priority? Why had you become a chore? 

But never his, oddly enough. You were too good for him and he hated that. 

(Heavy steps thudded behind Jake as Neteyam trailed, his disappointment palpable. He had been unsuccessful in his mission to persuade his father to let him come along on today’s expedition, always quick to dismiss him. He had gone through all the training, but what was the point if he still wouldn't be able to put it into practice? 

Being olo’eyktan one day will never feel rewarding. 

“It’s too dangerous, Neteyam.” Jake grumbled under his breath, eyes never meeting his as he gathered his arrows. “I need you here. Make sure Lo’ak doesn’t follow– do you copy?” 

Neteyam couldn't help but wince when he remembered the time they had failed to be spotters, but it was just that one time– why couldn’t he let it go? It weighed down heavily on his conscience; the mistake that even still, months later, sent shame prickling on every fiber of his being. 

Jake expected a copy in return– a curt yes-sir but Neteyam was silent. He finally urged himself to look up, only to see both his eldest locked in an intense stare, eyes never wavering nor breaking away from one another.

It clicked almost instantly the moment you walked through the flap of the hunt, clutching on the strap of your woven bag that held your own weapons. The war-paint drawn across your face had been the salt on the already deep cut of his– you were coming. Jake had asked you to come and he wasn’t. 

You were looking down at him, Neteyam was sure of it; judging him, and no doubt thinking of how much he had failed himself. His sense of shame deepened as he saw the derision in your expression, feeling more exposed than ever before. He wanted to disappear right then and there, anything to escape this moment that felt like an eternity. 

But you were there. You always were– and you could see straight through him. 

If only he knew how different your mind worked– how you desperately ached for the same concern Jake had for his son. You wanted him to understand the immense longing to be seen in the same light that he was in, to receive even a fraction of his unwavering affection; wanted Jake to care enough that this could be the last hunt he would have with you, that you could get hurt or worse. 

Jake was worried enough to sit his golden-child down; the one with capabilities greater than those warriors years older than him– the one he would make olo’eyktan someday. 

Not you. Never you. 

Neteyam was the first to turn away, a deep rugged grunt leaving his lips as he nodded once. 

“Lima charlie.” ) 

What really messed with his head was that, despite his obvious resentment, he couldn’t actually bring himself to truly despise you the way he felt he should. Every time Neteyam looks at you, he swears he only sees himself– the same child that only yearns for the recognition of a father. There is a reflection of each other in the two of you that binds you nonetheless. 

He wanted to truly look up to you; he wanted what Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk felt when they were with you– to have someone older, to feel as if the weight on his shoulders wasn’t his alone. Neteyam tried, he really did, but as much as you were there, you also weren’t. 

It wasn’t always like this. Your relationship with him wasn’t built entirely on rivalry– he knows he had something more familial with you before, but whatever it was had blurred along age. As much as he wanted to come closer, you were always two steps ahead of him. To you, he will always be olo’eyktan– but never a brother. 

It was a harsh reality– the same hands that cradled him when he was small couldn’t even look at him the same; like he had grown so ugly that you couldn’t recognize him at all. You didn’t even want to fly your ikran with him, nor did you want to train the same time he did. 

He hated you, but not quite– he could never hate his sister. You were more of a stranger now that lived under the same roof as him and it was better than to perceive you as someone rather horrible– but that was what you were. A horrible, horrible stranger. Someone who saved him once from trouble and handed him years of headache in return.

You were a horrible sister. That’s what you are. 

(“Tsmuke, what do I do?” 

You couldn't believe your eyes as you gazed down at the mess on the floor of the hut. Beads were all over, and what used to be a clay tray laid shattered into several pieces. Neteyam stood still in midst of it all— the culprit of such doing evident. Your brain wracked itself to move, to do something.

“This is sa’nok’s favorite necklace. She told me to come get it for her, but the shelf was too high–” Neteyam spoke in a rush, hands gesturing wildly as he talked. His face crumpled in worry and his brow furrowed with frustration.

"’Teyam, don't move!" you said in a hurry, alarmed at the thought of him taking a step forward. Moving quickly to his side, you gently stopped him from doing so and scooped him up under his armpits. He was heavy in your arms as you stood there with him, but the shards beneath were sharp enough to cut skin. You grunted as you moved him aside. 

"Tsmuke, what are we going to do?" He asked again, his voice running high with worry. 

You tried to think of another solution, assessing the situation once more. You glanced at him and said, "I'm going to tell ma I broke it so she won't be mad at you." You quickly search for something sturdy enough to scoop the pieces off the floor. Maybe you can redo the necklace, but there was no salvaging the tray. 

“But I broke it– she’ll know.” He visibly deflates, not exactly thrilled about not being truthful to Neytiri.

“Only if you tell her.” You said, looking up at him with a slight smile, though your heart was racing. You felt terrible knowing that you were going to disappoint Neytiri, especially since her beloved necklace had snapped– but something about your little brother's worry-stricken expression tugged on your heartstrings. You understood why her scolding was necessary, but it felt wrong to leave him alone to bear the brunt of it. “This will be our little lie, okay?” 

“Lie?” 

You immediately dismiss him, gesturing impatiently for him to exit the hut as quickly as possible. “I’ll tell you about it later, but you have to promise now that whatever mom says, just know that I broke it.” 

He only offered a subtle nod in response, his eyes glossed over as he nervously played with his hands.

“Say it, ‘teyam. She’ll be back any minute now!” 

"You broke it!" Neteyam had shouted and almost as if in response, Neytiri had walked in through the hut's entrance, all but gasping as she took in the sight before her– shards of what once held her jewelry now on the floor. She stumbled slightly as she carried the basket of fruits, before dropping it to the ground and quickly scurrying over towards you.

The scolding you got was harsh, but Neytiri couldn't do much other than wrap her arms around you and sigh. You were just a kid, after all. Mistakes like these are inevitable and all she could do was understand. 

Neteyam was patiently waiting just outside the doorway, swinging his legs back and forth as he listened with a heavy heart. He awfully felt guilty. You sat with him moments later.

“Why did you do that?” He quietly asked.

You looked at him with a confused face, “Do what?” 

"Lie." He says, his accent making the word feel awkward in his mouth. It was unfamiliar to him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You only say, casually shrugging as you swung your legs along his. Little Neteyam looked at you with the most confused face; eyebrows furrowing and the creases in between deepening as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened. 

But then you glanced at him again– winked and gave a small giggle. 

And only there did he understand. He leaned his head on your shoulder.

“Thank you, y/n.” )

Neteyam didn’t even realize he had finally reached home. He stared at the flap of the hut, unable to let himself in, despite living here ever since. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about having a moment alone with you– not when the thoughts that ran through his head had been unpretty. 

He knows damn well Eywa could strike him down if she heard herself. 

He sighed, “Y/n? Sa’nok asks for you.” He softly said, waiting for a reply. You had never been a deep sleeper; any little noise would bring you right back to consciousness. Every creak from the floor, every whisper and murmur from outside, even the lightest rustling of leaves would startle you wide awake in an instant. Neteyam knew of that, knew of the many sleepless nights you had. You had the habit of scratching the walls of the hut, carving who-knows-what on its surface. It kept him from being able to get any rest himself. 

When only silence greeted him, he finally urged himself to go inside only to be met with an empty space. 

Your absence now felt different to the other times when you had gone for a stroll through the forest or set out to train before dawn. It was not like that this time, and Neteyam felt it deeply. He frantically rummaged through the hut, searching every nook and cranny for anything that you possessed. Nothing. Neteyam stood at the center of the room, taking in the now cluttered room. 

His fingers nervously reached up to the intercom on his ears. A voice crackled over the device, "Sir, is y/n with you? Over." He took a deep breath as he glanced around once more. 

Almost quickly, Jake answered. “No, she should be back at the hut.”

 Neteyam gulped, “She isn’t– nor any of her things are. What do I do?”

“You– you! You let this happen, Jake!” 

After spending hours on scouring the forest for any trace of you, they had finally concluded that you had chosen to leave of your own accord. This was not something that anyone wanted to believe and yet it seemed like the only option left; none of your things were to be seen back at home, or at least those that were valuable to you— your worn-out saddlebag, the wooden bowl that you had carved yourself, weapons. All of it. Soon, eclipse neared and everyone was tired.

Neytiri was quick on her feet. As soon as Jake had returned from the south, she lunged at him – pushing him forcefully with a look he didn’t want to come home to. He attempted to grasp onto both her forearms, wanting desperately to soothe– but, try as he might, she continually knocked away his hands with increasingly greater force. It was like his very touch had burnt her skin; the same hands that held her children. 

“What did you do? What did you say?” Her panicked voice quivered as she asked in desperation. She felt her breath quicken, body absolutely worn out from everything that had happened. Neytiri’s tear-stained face was like a punch to his already battered heart. He had caused this. Jake had finally pushed you away. 

“One thing I asked of you– and this one thing you couldn’t do!” Each word that left her mouth was accompanied by a strike to his chest, not enough to cause any physical pain but enough to emphasize the anger he knew he had been keeping to herself for years. Neytiri was patient with him– understanding. Jake had pushed the limits of what she was capable of doing for him and this was the very consequence.

Shame. Nothing but shame. 

People were watching– warriors that had accompanied him on the search and lingering eyes of the clan, but he couldn’t care less. Jake allowed her to hit him, he let her push him around; it was better for him if she inflicted the pain instead of harboring it. He’d let the people talk for all he cared. He failed as an olo’eyktan and as a father. 

Let everyone know he failed his eldest.

“I did talk to her, please listen to me.” He begged, his pleadings faint. He desperately tried to reach out and grasp Neytiri's arm, yet his hands seemed unable to find the strength to hold her. His voice quivered as he spoke, fragile and hesitant in its delivery.

“Tell me how exactly!” 

And he couldn’t answer that. Not when he made the crucial mistake of not checking the hut beforehand. Maybe if he did, he would’ve known you had run away– maybe he could’ve gotten to you. The fact that you weren’t able to hear his vulnerability was a different heartbreak he refused to acknowledge. You were never there to begin with. 

When Neytiri saw that Jake had nothing to say in response, she was rendered speechless. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as she tried to muffle the cry that threatened to escape her throat. She frantically paced around, harshly tugging on her braids. Jake could only close his eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat. He stood there, stunned in silence. 

“My daughter, Jake! My daughter is out there with those– those demons scattered! She could be lost– dead! Do you not understand?” 

Dead. You could be dead. Jake refused to close his eyes, hoping he could keep the thought at bay. But it came back again and again, wriggling its way into his mind like a snake. He let his heavy eyelids shut and instantly, he was presented with a vision of you in the dark - his sweet babygirl, lying there lifeless. It would be his fault. The blood would be on his hands.

"Ma, please," Neteyam had spoken, his voice gentle in a bid to soothe his mother. He tried desperately to soften the blows, carefully pulling her away from Jake. It was Neteyam that calmed Neytiri and all he could do was stand and let it happen– what the hell was he doing? How could he fail so miserably? His eldest had to step in and do his job, his pride and joy. 

His gaze drifted across to where his other children were, huddled together on the corner. They looked bewildered at what they were hearing, unsure of what to make of it all. It seized him, squeezing what’s left of its already limp heart. Tuk was nestled in Kiri’s protective embrace, asking her– trying to understand. She asks of you, where have you gone? 

A father protects, that’s what gives him meaning and Jake Sully has done the opposite– ushering you to danger. 

“Have we failed them, Jake? Have I been a horrible mother?” Neytiri asked, her voice now barely above a whisper. She tried to be gentle with pushing Neteyam away, attempting to continue nonetheless. Jake placed a firm hand on his son's tense shoulders, and he gave him a subtle tilt of the head. He could see the battle that was raging inside of his young boy's head, between wanting to do what he felt was right and obeying his father's instructions. “Jake what have we done?”

Your mother needs this, his eyes try to tell him, go. Neteyam reluctantly steps back, deciding it was better to return to the others.

“Look for her again. Send out everyone this instant!” She sobs, pounding her fists against Jake’s chest in a desperate attempt to get her point across. Her neck is strained with veins popping out and bulging eyes filled with desperation, pleading him to understand. Each beat of her fists matched the intensity of her wails, no amount of tears ever seeming to be enough. 

Neytiri takes a heavy inhale once more, “I beg of you, Jake Sully. Find our daughter, bring her back home.” 

His gaze finally met hers and the feeling it brought was more than he could bear. He had to make a decision, another choice that would have to let her down again. “We can’t go looking for her now, Neytiri. We are already short on warriors, you know this.” He gently says, as if it was enough to soften the blow– but his eyes saw how her face slowly fell. He could clearly hear the telltale sound of her broken heart, shattering once more.

“I have to ensure everyone’s safety. Warriors are out scouring perimeters and we can’t risk one hold-up. Our family, Neytiri, I cannot risk our family,” 

“She is our daughter!” 

“And I am still olo’eyktan.” He was heartless. He was sure everyone thought so, but he had to be the one to make decisions. His composure was a mask that hid the fact that inside he was breaking apart; that he was failing– that he already had failed. If he let himself break down now, he might as well gamble everyone he loved. 

Jake’s responsibilities weighed down heavily on his shoulders. Everyone was at stake– Quaritch was on the loose. 

Neytiri told him he had a strong heart the moment they had met, but right now, it was stone-cold– shut off and mean. Not the compassionate man she had once saved. “I’m trying, Neytiri. I’ll get her home.” He tries to assure her, but the breathy shudder that left her lips only made him wince. 

He was finally able to wrap his arms around her mate and when he did, it was tight– as if he was trying desperately to piece her back together. He closed his eyes once more, kissing the top of her head. “I promise. She’ll be back, I promise.”

You were out there. Alive. He had a chance. 

Your mama’s crying for you, sweet child, come home. 

“Mawey, Mawey!” 

You found yourself in an unknown area. How you had gotten there, you could not explain. Your ikran, exhausted from the raging storm, needed some respite and so did you for that matter. After all, it would be cruel to deny her this much needed break even if it were just for a night. You only prayed that it’d be peaceful. 

You searched the space for materials needed for fire, but the rain was ruthless and provided no light. You felt a chill as you curled up beneath the shade of the tree. Hugging your knees to your chest you tried to conserve warmth, shivering slightly as a gust of wind blew past. Nothing around you but darkness - no stars, no moonlight, and not even the bioluminescence around provided much warmth. This was it, you thought.

Should I go home instead? Have they even noticed that I’ve gone?

Why couldn't you just stay? Why couldn't you have simply kept it all down inside rather than running away? You had been content enough to stay silent before, content enough to ignore everything; what had been different now? It was home still— who were you kidding?

Thoughts ran unmercifully inside your head as you sat motionless. 

You are never satisfied. 

I miss my mom. 

They deserve the heartache. 

You should’ve listened instead– now look at where you are.

Why couldn’t they love me?

Maybe I should head back. 

Father will be mad.

You wanted this– needed this. You had to prove yourself. There was no use crying over something small, a night had only passed. 

The snapping of leaves and rustling of bushes pulled you abruptly back to reality, your head quickly turning in its direction. You had been lost in thought before the sound startled you; the somber pool of thoughts still eddying in your mind. But there was something else nestled in that pool now, taking up the space– fear. Genuine and terrible, terrible fear. You might never come home ever again. You will never see them again. 

This was it, you thought, something that had been swirling around in the back of your mind since you’ve left now finally felt certain. You gripped your spear tightly in both hands. 

The cry that ripped through the air was deafening, shaking every part of your being. It felt like each syllable ricocheted around your entire body; coursing through your veins and settling in the cavity of your chest. Even the ground seemed to tremble in response, shaking beneath your feet as you tried to keep composure. There was no mistaking it; it was an 'angtsìk— a particularly angry one, at that. 

The loreyu that once surrounded you shriveled in response; coiling up and retracting to the ground, and then was gone completely, leaving you exposed to the hammerhead. 

You were in a desperate situation. It didn't help either that you were unable to make out your surroundings– you were one on one with an 'angtsìk with nothing but a spear and a lousy handgun (that you don’t even know why you brought in the first place. It was small on the palm of your hand, but it was valuable to Jake– this couldn’t damage any animal even if you tried.)

Lifting your bow and arrow and preparing to shoot would be pointless. The threat could be just a moment away; it could pounce on you in the blink of an eye, leaving you as food for its prey before you even have time to process the danger. 

You stood your ground, constantly shifting on your feet as you carefully backed away. You kept your gaze steadily ahead, refusing to break eye contact with the 'angtsìk– but when it roared again in response to your steps, you couldn't help but express your annoyance with a loud kiss of your teeth and an exasperated groan.

You did something that no one in a million years would ever consider or do– you ran straight towards it. 

You stepped forward with your spear raised, shaking it threateningly in front of the strange creature that had been creeping closer. Your movements were frenzied, a frenetic attempt to scare it off and make it retreat back to where it had come from. You could feel your heart pounding against your rib cage as you readied yourself for whatever would come next. All around you, an eerie silence had descended upon the dank forest that seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation– watching both of you. 

As it was poised to launch a counterattack, the creature suddenly halted; its gaze directed toward something past you with an expression of sheer terror, but your mind was too clouded for you to take any hint of the bigger threat skulking just behind you. You could feel the nervousness bubbling up from your chest, but before you knew it, a confident chuckle had escaped your lips that soon turned into fits of laughter, not believing how that foolish move of yours had made the 'angtsìk retreat.

“Yeah? Yeah! That’s right– you better run!”  You yelled, brandishing the spear in your hands and waving it around in triumph. “Get your punk-ass back to mommy, penis-face!” 

As the 'angtsìk disappeared into the distance, you allowed a sigh of relief to escape your lips. "You're not getting any of this, keep running!" You called out after it mockingly, putting your hands on your hips. In spite of this bravado, your heart was pounding and your knees were weak with fear– you were this close to give Eywa an early visit. 

You slowly turned back, that’s when you finally saw it; the force with which the thicket of bushes violently parted around it, the palulukan emerging from behind. It was like all the air had been sucked from your lungs, and a chill ran through your body as a wave of fear engulfed you. Every part of you tensed up, and you could feel your soul being wrenched from within.

You looked at it like a poor deer in headlights, grip momentarily loosening around your spear.

 If death knocked tonight, let it be instant.

NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT ?? ???? finally, after a month! (i am gonna be honest, i am this close to loosing interest in avatar.. jesus. i am holding onto crumbs people) this is so long overdue, but i hope it's good enough!

put so many references here, hope ppl can tell! teehee

not thoroughly edited so please feel free to point of any mistakes! thank you so much for being patient with me, until the next chapter loves! smooch <;3

(i removed tags that didn't work anymore :/ again, i am not taking anymore tags! please leave your notif on instead) tags: @reyalvr @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @lunyyx @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch @pinkeroppi @mellowdiy @jimfiqs @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ayra2452008 @vodoo-heart @rose-brulante @starxao @bluevenus19 @entertain-my-lvst @wwwellacom @starjane312 @mona-aiko @audigay

sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.

wc. 2.2k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”

they’re still brothers to me also yuuji is a fall out boy stan i rest my case

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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