EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (1)

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (1)

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. (wc; 3104)

Jake knew a saying; held onto it ever since he had resided amongst Na’vi– every person is born twice. While he believed that it meant that the second time is when you earn your place here in Pandora, Eywa had a clever way of broadening the idea. His very children were proof of it.

He thinks it’s the great mother’s way of compensation, perhaps a second chance for him to do better– to do his very best to keep them alive on behalf of those he lost. 

While Kiri was a special case enough, you too were an odd one. 

You are Tsu’tey's daughter. Turns out, he had someone in secret while he trained to become olo’eyktan– when he was supposed to take Neytiri for himself. It was taboo– absolutely wrong to become unfaithful to one’s mate. But following the carnage of the great war, when Tsu’tey had so selflessly sacrificed his life, only then did Tsi’ewa came forward; told everyone of their love and what could have been. She was a simple songstress along Ninat, but it was her round and bulging belly that caught everyone’s attention.

It caused an uproar and understandably so. After all, Neytiri had only announced her rebellion with Jake not long before, but when the people connected the dots themselves and both stories had become one, they understood that their hearts merely yearned for another and no one should have ever dictated otherwise. Arrangements had been made and condolences were exchanged— everyone can only look back and wish that things could have been different.

Jake was supposed to take you under his wing as a way of honoring him– he owed Tsu’tey his life and perhaps an apology as big as so. But after your mother had unfortunately died during your birth, he knew to himself that he had to take you in; not as a responsibility, but as his own blood and flesh. His first daughter.

You were the loudest baby, he recalled. That day, Jake had rocked your body back and forth in his arms frantically, while Mo’at and Neytiri did everything within their power to help Tsì'ewa. Your cries were ear-splitting, enough to wake the whole clan up. 

“Just what do I do with you,” He muttered under his breath, eyebrows knitted in frustration– just where do he hold you? Is he doing it right? Are you hurt? Why are you crying so loud?

“Jake, the baby!” Neytiri’s shout from inside had cut his train of loud thoughts, snapping back to your bawling. He wasn’t doing such a good job. 

“I’m trying, Neytiri– this thing won’t budge.”

Neytiri had emerged from the hut, stomping her way to Jake with a scowl. "That is not a thing, you skxawng!" she exclaimed before gently scooping you up from his arms, cooing softly to you– though it was more like mocking him instead. “Does Jake here make you cry?” She said, patting your thigh soothingly. “He’s not at all pleasant to look at, but you have to get used to it.” 

Almost in an instant, your cries had died down. You babbled along with her, like you were agreeing with her every word. He slowly pulled himself closer to Neytiri, eyes wide with curiosity as he watched your small hands playing with her long braids. “Heh, she has Tsu’tey’s eyes,” He whispers, unable to look away. 

The flap of the hut swinging open was the only thing that got their attention, momentarily away from yours as they looked at Mo’at with anticipation. With a single shake of her head, sorrow surged their hearts, eyes traveling back to your innocent ones. They mourned for you; an unknowing child should never have to carry such grief. They had to make a choice– A responsibility they weren’t expecting to have so early. 

Jake mindlessly trails his finger down your stomach, gently, like you were the most fragile thing. Your little hand wraps around it and it was like you had binded his scattered thoughts into one big understanding. 

Sully. You’re one of them now.

Jake releases a breathless chuckle as he gazes upon his lover and you with a newfound clarity, a perspective so bright it illuminated in his very eyes. Then came an idea– the desire of having children of their own. Perhaps that’s why Neteyam came after only two years. You were quite the ploy; the push they needed to start a family.

You were truly blessed– the genius of your age was undeniable, your remarkable talent soon earning you the admiration of all who had seen it. By the time you turned six, you had already mastered many of the abilities that a hunter would need– your skills with a bow were unrivaled by most of the children your age, let alone those who were much older than you. They'd marvel at your accuracy each time you took aim with an arrow. You could never miss. You had to make sure you didn’t. 

By the age of 12, you had already accompanied Jake in hunts. You had developed a knack for planning, coming up with routes and back-up plans that were often surprisingly effective. You have proved to be helpful plenty of times. You were quick, silent– full of poise. They often wondered if you were an old, seasoned soul trapped inside a little girl’s body. 

But as quickly as the spotlight had shone down on you, it left almost as soon as it had come.

(“What you did today was reckless, y/n.” Jake settles his bow on the table aggressively, emitting a sharp thud. You were just as frustrated, throwing your satchel down the floor of the hut. 

The mission had gone rather wildly, with things not going along the plan. There was another airship– one that no one was aware of. Your instincts jolted your body, immediately throwing an explosive towards it which had it blowing all over the place– its pieces crashing and causing a wildfire. 

Jake argued that there could’ve been a more safer way. One that didn’t have to risk more of our resources and supplies; one that didn’t have to injure the other warriors. Of course you knew to yourself that you did the right thing. You did what you had to do. 

 ‘You could’ve been hurt and got others killed! Just what were you thinking?” He continued to berate you. You jest that if this went on, there’d be steam visible above his already heated head. 

“I had to take a risk– not everything goes to plan and this is proof of it.” You answered back with a scowl, “If I hadn't, there would’ve been more casualties.” 

“That’s not a call for you to answer to! Jesus Christ,” Jake runs his palms down his face, grunting, before looking back at you– expression suddenly tired and soft. “Come on kid, where’s that sweetheart who always listened to what I said?” 

You had scoffed, a hurt forming on the pits of your stomach. “That sweetheart once had a place in plans before.” You said, eyes unwilling to look at him. It weighed in your heart heavily– why did people assume that you were the only one who changed? You didn’t understand. “Pretty sure the Jake before was a good listener too.” 

The wrinkle in between his eyebrows deepened in confusion, but he never was one for confrontation. With a single dismissive grunt, he turns his back against you. “I’m way past your attitude. You’re grounded. Go.”)

As you grew, the resemblance to your father became ever more apparent. Jake started noticing the many similarities between the two of you; the way you walked– how you sauntered confidently through a crowd. Your braids would move along your heavy steps (and perhaps, that’s where Neteyam got his mannerism of swaying his too.), shoulders wide and proud. You even had his signature snarl, something Tsu’tey was known for that unfortunately seemed to have been passed down to you too. 

However, it was more than how you brought yourself. You were strong-willed– stubborn. 

There was another thing about you too. You didn’t call Jake dad anymore. It hurt him– left a heavy feeling on his chest every time you regarded him so distant. It was unfair that you still called Neytiri mom, why did it have to change with him? He didn’t have the heart to address it. Couldn’t ask you what went wrong. 

Because he knows damn well why. 

Lo’ak was enough of a headache, but you were a different kind of royal pain in the ass, more like a personal problem. It was tiresome. Petty. There was not a day that you and Jake wouldn’t argue and bite each other’s ass off– and yet, there was never a day where you two would talk it out. The fights would blur itselves out and before they knew it, things would be back to normal, only for it to fall out again over something small. It was routine. The only thing normal for you both. 

He missed you– missed his baby. Just when did you grow to become so distant? When did he start to overlook you?

You’ll admit, you might have indulged in the folk’s gossip. They always had a story for everything and they have plenty about your father. Tsu’tey was a fit olo’eyktan. He had proved so in his training and determination. Of course it was a low punch in the gut when the throne had been passed to an outsider– a demon, most of all. It was unfair, he knew it wasn’t right. A washed up marine had taken something he had worked for like it was nothing. Like he was nothing. 

You pitied your father and you feared you’d be like him– like nothing. 

And history might just repeat itself. You weren’t clueless– wasn’t blind to the fact that Jake had trained your brother more. He adored him so much that the very moment he was in the right age to train, you were off to fend for yourself; trained all alone while Jake went over the routine with Neteyam like he did with you. You remembered waiting for him every afternoon because he promised that he’d make time– that time was yours and yours only. But as the light bled and neared eclipse and you were too cold to wait outside, you learned never to wait again. 

They would come home soon after– smiles on their faces and a handful of apologies for you. 

Soon enough, your suspicions proved you right as the people started to talk again; Neteyam– the golden child. He would make a good olo’eyktan. 

Perhaps that would explain the drift between you and Neteyam too. Could they blame you for it? You had lost their attention so early– while you still needed them. You weren’t their kid and you were reminded of it everyday. In times when you didn’t know if you had space in the family hammock while they sat together, telling stories under the starry sky. You pretended to have fallen asleep everytime; back against them as you listened. In times where the family was growing and growing, until the small table wasn’t big enough for everyone anymore– or in this case, for you. 

(“Come on, ma’ite, what are you doing so far from here?” Neytiri had called for you when she noticed how distant you were from everyone. You silently scooted beside her, wooden bowl in your lap. “Look, I prepared your favorite.” 

It wasn’t. You hated it. You hated the tangy taste of it so badly. But you had decided to eat what was left on the table after everyone had gotten their meals and there wasn’t usually enough for you. Neytiri thought nothing of that– didn’t think that you eating only scraps and dried fruit was because there wasn’t anything else for you to have. She simply thought that it was your favorite and had been making it for you ever since.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her. Not when she thought she had been doing well with preparing it. You kissed your teeth, smiling tightly as you lifted the food to your lips, eating silently. “Thank you, it’s good.” You muttered under your breath after.) 

But you were family; they said so themselves. When they tucked you in to sleep, when they patted your head. They were still present now, just not in the way you wanted– not in the way you longed for. It seemed like making them angry was the only way you could have their attention– particularly, your dad. You could never make Neytiri mad. She tries to understand you, she does. Explaining now just seems so.. Petty. So childish, you decided to push her away instead. 

What do you tell her? That you only let dad blow a fuse or two was because you missed him? Because you didn’t know what went wrong? 

So there goes your routine. 

“I just don’t understand why I can’t be olo’eykte.” You had brought up again, lips in a familiar snarl. “You tire me and for what? Kiri is already training to be Tsahik– just what would my place in this clan be?” 

“We are not having this conversation again, y/n. Not tonight.”

Jake had just returned from a particularly bad hunt; went home empty-handed and with a patience as thin as a strand of hair. He continued to sharpen his dagger, movements almost aggressive. Everyone immediately went out of his way, not wanting to be on the end of his temper– not you though. You could never get a hint, it seems.

“Yes, tonight! My ceremony is almost near, sir. I have been waiting.”

It wasn’t like he had a reason anyway. Jake couldn’t tell you because he had no reason as to why. Why couldn’t you be olo’eykte? You had all the skills to be one, even more so. But in the back of his mind, a thought so deep and petty that he couldn’t bear to say, tells him that the name he carried was something to gift his eldest son. Olo’eyktan was a privilege reserved for Neteyam. He never thought to have you so early– he always dreamed of having a son first. 

“Wait more.” 

“This is insane– sa’nok!” You had turned to Neytiri, eyes pleading. She quickly grasps your arm and tries to tug you back towards the exit, speaking in a soft but firm voice as she tries to soothe the tension.

“Ma’ite, why don’t we go out for a walk?” She whispers. To be frank, she was tired of this– never of you, no. But at the way things had been. Parents aren’t parents automatically just because they have had children of their own. It’s a skill they have yet to muster– to truly understand. She didn’t know where the line between you and her had blurry along the years. Didn’t know where this constant need of yours to be seen came from. 

You jerked your arm away from her, almost too harshly. It tugged on her heartstrings, not knowing what was going on with you. “I cannot wait anymore.” You said, taking two steps towards Jake with an unreadable anger– an anger he didn’t know when had stemmed from. 

“Is it because I’m not your daughter?” 

His eyes widened. A flash of vulnerability visible in his gaze, momentarily softening his glare. “You stop this right now, y/n.” He had stood up, tucking the dagger back to his loincloth. Jake’s larger frame towered over you, telling you to drop it– to leave the conversation. But you weren’t backing down. 

“I am your eldest–! You trained me earlier than Neteyam, I have been here long enough–”

“You aren’t ready!” He had shouted with the same fierceness, earning a dirty look from Neytiri.

“Why won’t you see me?” Your voice had softened, borderline begging– just a bit, but enough for his ears to flatten in response. He knew that beneath those few simple words lay many layers of underlying meaning; emotions that have yet to be spoken. 

But he turns his back against you dismissively anyway. “Neytiri, get her out of here.” 

Neytiri grabs you by the arms again, although a bit forceful now, but just enough for her to touch you– to have you in between her arms. She embraced you, like she was trying to keep the words from escalating. She feared one of you would say something out of line; something you both would regret. 

But on the brink of the tension– the severity of the situation, you had muttered. Your voice was muffled, but it was clear. The message was oh so crystal. “You took everything from my father.” 

Jake grunts, “Yeah? Well maybe your father wasn’t enough either.” 

“Jake!” Neytiri hisses and although Jake couldn’t see her, he knew very well he was getting quite the conversation with his mate too. 

It was a low blow. Unnecessary. A straight strike to the gut. It was a pain so bitter, you didn’t want it to linger any longer– you were nauseous. You wanted no more than to vomit everything that spiraled out of your stomach. 

“You want to lead so badly and you can’t even control your temper. No clan wants a hot-head for a leader.” But he kept going– relentless and cruel. “You ought to be someone else’s shadow.” 

“But I’m your daughter,” Your tone had softened, almost cracking as the lump in your throat grew. Tears blurred your vision, threatening to escape as Neytiri held you close. 

“And yet you never listen to me— because I’m not exactly your father, yeah?” With one last glance, he stepped out, passing his children who stayed just outside the door, listening. Jake opens his mouth, desperate to ease the tension– the discomfort written in their faces, but he quickly shuts it and continues to walks out. He had said enough for tonight. There was nothing saving his face from this. It was best if he left instead. 

“Oh, ma’ite.” Neytiri rocks her body along yours, drawing soothing circles on your back but the embarrassment settles in your chest– gnawing at your body. You catch a glance of the pitiful looks from your siblings as they try to enter the hut silently. 

How could you make a mess out of yourself in front of them? Why had you let this blown over?

You retracted slowly from your mother’s hold, wiping your tears before running the opposite way from where Jake had gone to. It was better if you left instead.

mauve here! finally done writing this after racking my head for weeks. wanted it to be relatable (??) as much as possible, idk why. there is just something therapeutic w writing about your past issues <3 but i hope this one's alright!!! really excited to finally post this heheh

lots of kisses!

I ! Feels like we had matching wounds, but mine's still black and bruised (and yours is perfectly fine now.)

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing.

Content & warning: Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! Purely angst, at least for this chapter. Neteyam dies in the forest (the scene were quaritch first holds everyone hostage) I will not be following his storyline, because that's for you to take 🫵🫵🫵 buckle up.

Song: The Exit, Conan Gray.

You stay with the ikrans. 

Neteyam stepped forward without hesitation, stomach in knots with anxiety. “Father, I’m a warrior. I’m supposed to fight.” 

“I need you here,” he cut through his attempt to follow, nostrils flaring and jaw locked. There was no room for negotiation with the authority that laced his tone. “I need you to listen when I say you stay here.” he jabbed his finger on his chest, sealing him stiffly on the spot. The seconds seemed to hang in the air like lead weights, and any moment lost was an opportunity for danger to strike– he could only thin his lips and sharply nod.

“I mean it, Neteyam.” 

Such a simple ask of his father could have spared him from the rage of war, but how could you not expect the eldest to fight when his very siblings were in danger? Jake should have known better than to trust the empty ‘yes sir’ off his son’s lips– a warrior born out of his own teachings. You couldn’t blame him for following suit the second his parents were out of sight and into the wild.

How did it get to this? Jake’s thoughts would drift every painful step he took further. He knew it was in Lo’ak’s nature to be so reckless, hell, he took after his father himself– but before him, Kiri, or Tuk, it was just you and Neteyam. 

He remembered feeling ecstasy tremble down his whole body when he first cradled Neteyam. The moment the olo’eyktan had presented him to the clan, carrying him for everyone to see, he couldn’t see his son himself with the unshed tears blurring his vision. A part of him was relieved that he took after his mother, thinking it would have been a handful dealing with another Jake– but perhaps it was just a ploy; a first born’s excellence that they soon yearned for another.  

Then you came, another splitting image of Neytiri. The people often mistook you and Neteyam for twins and she’d reveled in the praises you both would get. You were her first daughter— right from the ear-splitting cries you let out the moment you were out of your mother’s womb to the battle cries you had worked on earlier in years, mimicked from Neytiri herself, she always swelled in pride. Unlike the eldest’s reserved composure, you were the opposite; curious and buoyant, yet still as shy and collected. 

It was different with Jake; he was new to this— absolutely clueless and terrified. After you came, the jolt wasn’t similar to Neteyam’s;  you were also his first babygirl. He wondered if he held you correctly, if the natural strictness he had with his son was fitting for you– oh Eywa, he definitely had to relearn weaving with Neytiri. The profound hesitation when it came to you was nerve-wracking, but the way your little hand would make its way around your father’s finger every time would ease the tight crease between his eyebrows, almost like you knew his very troubles. 

You were the kindest, most sweetest child– a daddy’s girl, much to Neytiri’s complaints. 

“Neteyam, scooch!” You yelled in a whisper, trying to desperately hide yourself in thick leaves and bushes. He couldn’t stifle his little giggles either, hearts pumping wildly in anticipation of your father. “Once he comes, remember to run left, alright?” 

He nodded sharply. His face coated in mud in the guise of war paint that you drew yourself. Yours were drawn lousily, the strokes shaky and a mess. 

Fee-fi-fo-fum, he chanted thickly, growing deeper and louder every stomp! The children could see him between the gaps— hands clawed and raised, stance menacing. You can run but you can’t hide! 

Both of you shrunk in suspense, eager to best your father in playtime. 

Then it was silent. Too silent. Your ears lifted curiously, eyes scanning the area only to be greeted by your father parting the leaves and surprising you both. You squealed a run and bolted to the right. Not even a second later, you heard the own panting of your twin beside you. You stared at him incredulously, legs faltering a bit, “Neteyam, I told you to go left!”

“This is left!” 

“No, I’m right—! This is right, you skxawng!” 

Amidst your silly bickering, Jake cunningly captured Neteyam, grabbing him from the armpits and hoisting him up high into the air. You could hear your brother’s laughter growing louder as Jake blew raspberries on his stomach, pretend-eating him with loud munches– his toothless bites making the younger’s giddiness double in size. You shrieked and sprinted faster, making a beeline to a different direction. This monster’s more unmerciful than you thought! With a determined look, you stopped behind a tree. I have to save Neteyam!

“One down and another to go!” You heard your father roar again, your brother giggling as he trailed along his heavy steps. 

You threw a rock as hard as you can, shifting Jake’s attention to the noise, and before he knew it, you came running towards him, thick long vine in your hands as you lousily tied it around your father’s ankles. Neteyam shouts in victory, trying to tighten the bind. Jake could only stifle a laugh at the scene, trying not to soil the satisfaction that was evident in your smug smile. He dropped to the floor, “Oh no! You got me!”

“Toruk Makto my ass!” You got on top of him, slapping his chest down with your little hands. Jake shouts a ‘hey’ at your language, which you only sheepishly giggled in return. Neteyam parrots from behind, still holding onto his legs. 

“We’re Toruk Makto now!” 

The memory would have easily put a smile on his face– ease his heart even a little bit, but the severity of the situation pulled him back and immediately, he was back in marine-mode, hands gripping onto the gun tightly. The moment they saw distress among the group with the green gas enveloping where his children were, they made a move.

The dreamwalkers felt a searing burn in their nostrils as the dense gas engulfed the area, the pain shooting up their visions. Your captor had a vice-like grip on you, dragging your body with him as you watched the others scramble in distress. He tugged painfully on your hair, forcing you to hiss and jab your nails into any exposed skin you could claw on. A headache throbbed at the back of your skull like an incessant drumbeat; you needed to think fast. With a sprained ankle, you knew you couldn’t get far.

Before you could even muster enough breath to scream for help, an arrow hit the avatar straight in the nape and dropped to the ground dead. You limped backwards, seeking an escape route, when suddenly someone grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the rough tree bark. You body trembled, hitting whoever it was on their chest in an attempt to break free. But all efforts were futile as they held onto you tightly, shaking you vigorously.

“Sis, it’s me– you’re safe,” His hands traveled around your body to check for any serious wounds. The sound of his voice brought a sense of relief over you; your brother's caring demeanor enough to make you feel at ease and secure. Your face softens, “Are you hurt anywhere?” Neteyam anxiously asked, trying to get a hold of you.

“Ankle,” You exhaled, feeling the sharp pain shoot up again, “I sprained my ankle.” 

He looked around, making out a path to safety. When he manages to form a plan inside his mind, he carries you like a princess, arms securely around your waist and under your legs. Neteyam ran face-first into the battlefield, making sharp turns whenever necessary to evade any incoming bullets. With no bows or means of retaliation, you were both defenseless. You could only grab tighter as your heart hammered tightly on your throat.

“Na’vi!” Neteyam stops dead in his tracks, an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights. 

“Please, we just want to go home” Neteyam begged, his voice barely higher than a whisper. The light of the eclipse illuminated his features, and he instinctively pulled you closer to him as he took a few steps back. You could feel his exhaustion both physically and emotionally; a weariness that seemed so out of place on such a young soul. Everywhere around you was utter stillness- you couldn’t breathe, the tension in the air heavy and stifling.

“I’m sorry,” And before your brother could grab the dagger tucked to his loincloth, the avatar fired her gun towards you both as Neteyam thrashed in panic, throwing your beaten body to the side as he rolled off somewhere. The dreamwalker quickly towers over you and you could only close your eyes shut, waiting for cruel death. In a blink of an eye, her body drops dead and Lo’ak immediately rushes to your aid. 

Only then did you feel the searing pain in your leg, the sensation of a bullet wound as hot blood slowly oozed out. It was nauseating, the smell of iron and the redness of it. Your eyes widened in realization as you clung to your younger brother, “Neteyam! Did you find Neteyam?”

Lo'ak hurriedly hoisted you up and with sheer adrenaline, you limped to the other side, searching for your brother. Your eyes darted to his body, stiffly lying on the grass and breathing shallowly. You couldn't bear to look at the blood that stained his abdomen; it was a sight you wish to never see, ever.

“Oh, Neteyam,” You shakily put pressure on the bullet wound, only for him to violently grab both of your wrists and desperately claw at it. You could only scream aloud as the blood spilled out more and more as he writhed and struggled. “I know, I know, I know, I know– please, please just stay still.” Your words came out as a disgusting croaking slur, tears unable to keep themselves at bay. 

“__, I don’t want to die yet.” He cried out as you tried to keep your hold firm, “Father—father had asked me to stay, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stay there and wait. I.. I don’t want to see his face when he realizes I didn’t listen-- that I failed him again. __ save me, please.”

He said hurriedly, breathing heavily every word. Save Neteyam, save Neteyam.

His jaw clenched violently, spit bubbling the corners of his mouth as he grabbed onto you tightly. The noises he let out had tugged on your every heart string, snapping it over and over. He struggled in your arms, pupils blown wide and teary. “Please great mother, not my brother, not like this– Lo’ak help me!” Your head sharply turned to his unmoving figure, eyes darted to you and Neteyam. You cradled him close, not minding the crimson cot coating your own body.

You were unable to think and you had your own wounds that needed to be tended to, but you couldn’t be bothered to put him down– to accept his already fleeting breath would soon be none. You kissed his temple, rocking his body. “I’m here, I’m here Neteyam.”

“I don’t want to die,” his eyes averted to the incoming figure behind you and he drew a harsher inhale. your father had pushed you aside to aid Neteyam, immediately checking for an exit wound. He was met with a loud cry, squirming uncontrollably from Jake’s sharp movements. When he saw blood gushing out the same on the back, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he let out a sob.

Jake put pressure on it nonetheless. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“Sir, I’m sorry,” His words slurred together desperately, reducing to nothing but whimpers. Your lungs deny you of any more air as you watched him struggle— even in the brink of death, he had the need to apologize. Apologize for things that wasn’t even his fault, for things that was beyond his control. You kneeled just behind your father, gaze moving between Neteyam’s body and your bloodied palms. “I’m s-sorry, please don’t be mad.”

How he addressed Jake had only weakened his already beaten heart. “Save your breath, son, please.”

Everything seems to remain still for a minute, then came the shriek of your mother. You stayed there, almost lifeless yourself. You didn’t wanna see; didn’t wanna see how Neteyam’s body is limp under your father’s hold— how his eyes falls crestfallen and void of any emotion. Your siblings watch as Neytiri litters her first born with kisses, how she embraces every skin she can touch closer to her. “Not my son, eywa please.”

Eywa had granted him rest in its worst kind.

–

When he died, the same bullets went through you and it remained situated there, gnawing your insides and pounding it to mush, eating everything it can and rotting your entirety to an ugly void of a shell. It was getting heavier; his body soundly resting above the delicately woven cloth, carried by his mourning family. You could feel your feet sinking down the very soil you stepped on and you visibly faltered every move. 

His cold hand gripping tightly around your wrist, his blood drawn between the lines of your palms— your soul was left to relive that night in a loop, scream bellowing until nothing was let out but breathy weeps of what was left of you. 

It was bound to happen; death loomed and you dare played with it nonetheless. You should have known better than to let Lo'ak wander, let alone join him.

You stopped walking, changing everyone's solemn looks to a confused one. “Father, I can’t do it.” You whispered.

He remained tight-lipped, staring at you solidly that you could hardly decipher his expression. Jake was never one for emotions; it was as if he was programmed to tuck everything that made him feel under a gun's trigger– it was the soldier in him, finding it easier to be calm with a weapon nearby, but right now he was absolutely defenseless; stripped bare and vulnerable and he hated every moment of it; resented the fact that he failed protecting everyone, not just as clan leader, but as a father too. The latter weighed more than anything else. It dulled him to dysfunction and he could barely breathe– could barely recognize his daughter in front of him.

You took his stare differently, a cold-shoulder. Before Neytiri could approach your figure, you ran; away from the voices and guilt, away from him. Neteyam’s blood burns brightly on your very hands and you’ve swallowed down the blame, forever residing within you. 

You buried something so alive and you feared it would never let you rest.

☆ mauve here! i now introduce a new series of mine that i am so excited to work on. (i know i said i'd be inactive, but i couldn't help but finish this one draft) neteyam's dying scene is heavily inspired by the game, the last of us! this feels rushed, but i needed an opening to start the series so rest assured, there would be lengthier pieces after. criticisms are welcome. feel free to point out any mistakes. mauve out >:]

Tags: @aonungsmate ♡

© avatarkv, do not repost.

SPIDER SIS !

→ READING: older sister!black!reader

→ GENRE + WARNINGS: fluff + the n word is said

→ A/N: not to be confused, 1610!miles will be in red and 42!miles/miles g will be in purple. also y/n will perceive to be around my age, so 17-19 years old at the time of this writing !

— being the eldest sibling/older sister is quite…chaotic. from the birth of your baby brothers to now, you’ve never known peace cause it’s always something with one of the two. miles g is arguing it’s you over the tv remote or miles is lost in his math homework

— cause of his smart mouth and pettiness, arguments with miles g would be a daily thing. from sun up to sun down this boy will find the most minuscule thing to argue with you about. one time he blamed you for missing his favorite show like it wasn’t 100% his fault….

— whenever you and miles g are arguing, miles would stay out of it and hang out with his parents. he never takes sides, since he loves you both equally, but he does try to hear both sides of the story. sometimes he’ll try to play peacemaker but it just….rarely works

— this nigga miles g is such a snitch omg. he wouldn’t snitch on miles often but you, he running to the nearest parent. majority of the time, you would have to bribe him to not saying nothing

— even through the chaos, it’s a loving essence with the two. through the fights and arguing, they both have deep love for their older sister, they wouldn’t trade you for the world. also, these two are veryyyy overprotective over you, sometimes too much

— anybody talk shit about any of you three is gonna get hit or flat out cussed out by you or miles g. especially miles g, he doesn’t play those games about his siblings and will buck at anybody, friend or foe, he don’t care

— if you have a crush on someone, please don’t tell either miles cause miles is gonna tell miles g and miles g will find their entire identity like he works for the CIA. don’t let it be a boy either cause miles g will watch that boy with daggers in his eyes

— the boys have put a lot of their trust in you! they feel like they can tell you anything and almost any secret, unless it’s too embarrassing

— when it’s not chaotic in the morales household, you guys are usually chillin in the living room either watching tv or doing your own thing. if anime is playing on the tv, all three of you subconsciously hop on the couch and watch it together

— watching anime together is one of the times you love hanging out with your brother the most. all three of you are huge anime nerds (the worst is miles g), so sitting around the couch to start a new anime or catch up on an old one is quite fun and peaceful. also, anime is a frequent conversation, a lot of debates happen and one too many spoilers from miles

— when you were younger, you used to help your mom wash the boys hair. if your dad was at work, which he more than likely was, your mom would ask to help wash and style one of the boys hair while she did the other. it was fun watching the toddler miles splashing water and throwing bath toys at each other

— miles g loves stealing your food and doesn’t give a single damn about it. if you doordash some food, don’t let miles g peep it or grab it for you cause he will steal something. you know what’s funny? he’ll steal your food and judge you for the food you bought like it was his money spent on it….

“why am I missing three tenders? there’s supposed to be eight”

“yeah n/n, that shit was dry as fuck. don’t order from that restaurant again”

“nigga- did YOU buy it?”

“I’m just sayin that I wouldn’t waste my money on no shit like that”

— all three of you have the most ridiculous nicknames for each other and it would be something that happened in y’all childhood. y’all even have code names if y’all talkin shit about each other

— the sibling group chat would go crazyyyy, but not all the time. usually it’s tiktoks, y’all talkin shit, or some fight video that happen in school. more than likely miles g was instigating the fight

— for miles + miles g 19th birthday, y’all got matching spider tattoos and miles g got a matching nose piercing with you !

— when the boys were first born, they had their ears pierced and y’all parents would try to get matching earrings for the three of you. but majority of the time it wouldn’t work cause miles g refused to wear small hoops or a pink earring, even if it was sorta boy-ish

— miles g was the first to learn cuss words in Spanish, so he would teach miles about it. miles was clueless and didn’t know about they were bad words until rio popped his hand and punished him about it. poor miles :(

— when it comes to relationships, the boys always run to you before running to your mom. they would describe the girl and ask if you know her. if not, you would find her info and become a wingman for your baby bros

⭑ another long set of hcs, sigh

⭑ was this me mostly projecting being the oldest/big sister ? maybe !

⭑ lemme know if y’all want a part 2 cause I have so much to say for big sister reader 🤭

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: Psalm 100:5

SPIDERMAN: ATSV MASTERLIST + MAIN MASTERLIST

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥 𝗉𝗇𝗄𝗐𝖾𝖻. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

request ! 😌

i saw something about Mrs. Morales having a picture of Miles’ girlfriend in her wallet and i think it’s literally the cutest thing ever 😭😭😭 could you write some headcannons about Mrs. Morales absolutely loving Miles’ girlfriend? for both E-1610 Miles and E-42 Miles? thank you !!!

— Mama Love

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x fem!reader, 1610!miles morales x fem!reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ tía morales really enjoys having you as her son’s girlfriend.

warnings ✧˖ ° fluff, cursing, tía morales offering to whoop miles’s ass for you.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ mi niña preciosa: my precious little girl, si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—: if you hurt her again i swear that i’ll—, no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!: don’t you ever stand her up again, niño no hagas que te golpé: boy don’t make me whoop you.

a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i think i know what fic you’re talking about, but i don’t remember the author. i love tía morales, hope you enjoy!

42!miles morales

this boy does not play with his girl and mom so you better believe that he was so happy that his mom loved you so much.

at first he was worried that his mom wouldn’t accept you or get along with you because in that case he would’ve no choice but to break up with you in order to not make his mom uncomfortable.

she matters too much to him for him to just go and date someone she doesn’t approve of.

but his worries vanished the moment he saw the two of you in the kitchen after he had come from some prowler business and heard his mom talking about how beautiful you were and how you and miles complemented each other.

that was the first time you two had met and since then you were inseparable.

you were the it mom and future daughter-in-law duo.

many times you and tía morales were talking about him and she found absolutely adorable the way your eyes lid up when talking about her son

“mi niña preciosa,” she would sigh. “you and miles are made for each other.”

other times you would talk about the world of fashion and gossip about the women and men in the neighborhood.

one time tía morales argued with a woman after she had cursed at you, telling her about how she was too grown to be acting like that.

you two laughed about it later and she let you know that if you ever needed help from ladies who acted like children to just call her.

one time miles even complained about the amount of time his mother spent with his girlfriend and he got called selfish.

never complained to either of you again.

his uncle aaron once got to hear this complain and laughed at him telling him he’s a simp

miles got you and his mom matching neckless and you two absolutely loved them.

now, neither of you takes it off.

then he got jealous of that so he got you and him matching bracelets.

you have a picture of him and his mom as your homescreen and he got jealous because it used to be only him.

tía morales has you as her homescreen and everytime someone sees it she would tell them that you were her son’s girlfriend who was her niña preciosa.

you would come over even when miles was not there just to spend time with her.

she taught you how to cook many dishes puertorriqueños.

and if you didn’t speak spanish already, she would teach you many words.

would feel guilty when she said a bad word around you and you would repeat it.

“no, mi niña. don’t say that!”

miles always got an earful from his mom whenever he did something to you that she found out of line, like one time he yelled at you.

“si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—”

yeah, he never yelled at you after that.

or like ever did anything that would hurt you.

miles might act like he didn’t like how close you and his mom were but he secretly loved that.

you and tía morales couldn’t care less if he liked your closeness or not.

1610!miles morales

now this one does love his mom but wouldn’t break up with you if you two didn’t get along.

but since day one you and tía morales got along right away.

it was like you were destined to be her daughter-in-law, like she would often say.

miles absolutely loved that and would often join both of you in your conversations and cooking lessons.

one time you were learning how to make patacón and miles was absolutely freaking out because he felt like you would get burned.

tía morales took him out of the kitchen, telling him that if he kept being in there with all that bad energy then you will end up burning yourself.

she taught you a lot of different recipes from her culture and if you are boricua then you would just make them together, since people use different seasonings for everything.

tía morales and you would walk around the neighborhood, talking about some lady from there who cheated on her husband and how he publicly humiliated her right in front of everyone.

one time miles stood you up for the fifth time and since you didn’t know he was spiderman, you just felt neglected by him for no reason.

his mom made sure to make things clear for him.

“no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!” the look she gave him was enough for him not to make his patrols around the same time as your dates.

he had to apologize with flowers and chocolates that his mom helped pick out for you, she also told him to give you some money.

after that you felt better and forgave miles, but not before thanking tía morales for talking to him.

tía morales and you went out a lot.

like going shopping,

buying ice cream,

going to restaurants where miles tagged along.

miles never felt jealousy of you spending time with his mom but he felt a little mad when he found out that he was no longer your homescreen wallpaper.

he was, but his mom was in the picture too so he got pouty.

he complained right there in front of his mom, acting like a damn child.

“niño, no hagas que te golpé.” tía morales had said, giving him a blank stare.

yeah, never complained again.

but you had to make him your perfile picture in every socia media or he will ignore you.

you made his mom your whatsapp perfile pic though, since she made you download it. (if you had it before then you just put it because you wanted to show off your bfs mother).

she had you as her homescreen and would feel so proud whenever someone called the girl in the picture gorgeous and would immediately say that it was her son’s gf.

in the end you and tía morales are besties.

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

Cobra kai x Soft! Reader HCs

Request: None!

A/N: I wanted to write some preferences with a really soft, bubbly, and clingy reader who wants to take care of their S/O. I adore grumpy readers but I am the sappiest sap there ever was. So HERE YA GO!!! Also sorry for not working on requests. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 866 Words

Miguel Diaz

The cutest dynamic duo there ever was and will ever be

Yall are just balls of sunshine 

The Cobra’s act grossed out but you are their OTP

You two are joined at the hip bringing joy to the world

Yall NEVER fight

Sure you guys get into little spats but nothing major

SOFT PDA KING!!

Yall ain’t gonna be making out in public

 but hugs, kisses, holding hands, all the sweet things

OKAY, whenever yall hold hands he does that thing where he swings them back and forth!

Fixing his gi and giving him a good luck kiss before tournaments!

Just cuz Miggy is a sweetheart doesn’t mean he won’t absolutely throw down for you

If your ever getting teased Miguel is instantly beside you

The whole “this guy bothering you babe?” act

(which he’s actually?? Very good at??)

Keep reading

PLATONIC FICS ARE SO UNDERRATED I LOVE THEM

Ayo can I request a platonic 1610 miles x older fem reader. Like she acts like an older sister to him and she visits him in his dimension. Bonus if his parents love her.

Dynamic Duo

1610 Miles x Platonic fem! reader

Synopsis! Miles never really cared for having another sibling until he met you

MASTERLIST

Genre: fluff, just fluff.

Warnings: mentions of dead sibling, foul language

Word count: .7k

Authors comment: THIS WAS THE CUTEST THING EVER IM CRYING. Two posts about Miles in one cause why not? ENJOY <3

Do not copy! All rights reserved to axeoverblade

•when you first met Miles you two clicked immediately

•He reminded you of your late little brother

•even though it made you sad at first to be around Miles cause of the nostalgia of it, you grew extremely fond of him over time and vise versa

• Bad habit of calling him youngin and he gets SO PISSED

• “what’s good youngin” “I’m not even that young shut the hell up”

• would get in trouble often with Miguel because you two “weren’t using your watches properly”

•apparently traveling dimensions to have ice cream together was against the rules

•still did it anyway

• he tells his mom about his friend “who left town” who was like his big sister and indirectly how much he admired you

•he would never ever tell a soul he looked up to you even though it was very obvious

•like bro legit mimics half the things you do unconsciously

•You notice it but don’t say anything

• you are so unconsciously over protective

• like you sometimes forget he’s a spiderman too

• he does the most stupidest things to impress you like a younger sibling does

• “Hey y/n look!” *cue Miles hanging upside down from a bridge doing stupid dangerous poses* “Miles! Get the hell down before you kill yourself” “But ’s cool right?” “…that’s besides the point”

•INSIDE JOKES!!!!

•or just those understanding looks you two give each other when you both see something stupid

• randomly pop up in his dimension to surprise him

• you two swing around the city together for the fun of it

•He rants to you constantly about his home life, finally feels safe enough to speak about everything that’s going on and how he feels to someone

•calls you when he has anxiety attacks. even though he would never outright say he’s having them, you know

• call it big sister senses

• always change the subject to something you know calms him and suddenly he’s laughing telling you about something that happened a couple of days ago when he was on duty

•Makes you happy he has an outlet he feels safe talking to because you know he can't do that with anyone else.

•HE STEALS ALL YOUR THINGS

• “yah so then-is that my jacket?” “…noooo?” “Miles I swear I'll kill you that’s like the fifth one this month”

• Always wants to be around you

•like lil bro is always just around trying to hang out with you or go on your missions when he can cause he thinks it’s cool to see you in action

• he even copies your moves for when he fights villains

• You finally met his parents

• at first they were very skeptical of you but after seeing how you two interact they grow very fond of you

•asks you to visit more often and cook for you whenever you do come

•you three talk about Miles whenever you think he’s not listening (he is) and how proud you are

•both you and his parents get on his ass about random stupid things he does

•legit tag team him all the time and there’s nothing he can do

•you visit so much you have a little bag of things in his room for when you come over

• you have your own personal relationship with his parents. They see you as one of their own and you see them like a second pair of parents

• they have their own nickname for you

• you are so close they add you to the family gc

• you and Miles bicker all the time about the stupidest things

• “shut up that’s why I’m the favorite kid” “you’re not even their kid!” “Your just proving my point further”

•you act like a real siblings. Like you would give your kidney for him but if he asks to borrow your charger? Hell nah

• overall he genuinely loves you and really appreciates you and you can say for the same for him

•will always be there for each other just like real siblings because in a way, you two are and always will be