Mune: Le Gardien De La Lune Dir. Benoît Philippon, Alexandre Heboyan

They're besties, your honor.

𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 - 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

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

– pairings: neteyam x oc

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

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

translations:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And are you already in love with someone?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Now go!"

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

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

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

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

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

“Näytle?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For your bravery."

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

"Näytle?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oel ngati kameie."

I see you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He adored the way she looked so cute and flustered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What else might you have heard?"

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

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

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

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

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

Because perhaps, he was falling in love.

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

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

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

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

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

"Neteyam is just fine."

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

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

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

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

theme inspired by @aokoaoi !

gif by @world-of-pandora

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

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

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 - 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐲𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

"after they leave, it's just the voices and i."

masterlist | previous , next !

–pairings: itadori yuuji x oc

– warning: mentions of death, fluff, canon divergent, pre-shibuya arc

– author’s note: more lore!! i swear ill be getting into the action soon but uh,,, this series might end up longer than expected

disclaimer: i’m not of japanese descent and am unfamiliar with japanese honorifics, etc. feel free to correct me!

“Well, we should be off.”

My gaze snapped up to meet honey-brown eyes once more, those two little marks underneath Itadori’s eyes, as if they were another set of eyes, stared back at me. His pout was evident, expressions freely displayed in contrast to Fushiguro’s poker face. Yet even with his judgemental gaze, I plastered on a smile.

“Ah, is it that late already?” Nobara sighed, and I lightly shoved her shoulder.

“It’s late enough,” Fushiguro, grabbed Itadori’s sleeve. “We should leave you to unpack.”

“I almost forgot about that, but thanks for the reminder.”

I walked the two to the door, Nobara getting a headstart on cleaning up the mess – considering that she did make the most of it – while Itadori continued to pout at the lack of time spent together.

“Dang, I was hoping to get to know you better,” He huffed, before letting out a radiant smile once more. “I’m sure we’ll meet tomorrow though! When will you be free?”

I glance behind the door, seeing a big thumbs up from Nobara, and I turn back to Itadori, sucking in wince.

“I mean, I’m still pretty busy unpacking, so uh… no, I’m not free. Sorry.”

“Oh, uh, that’s alright. What about the day after– OW!”

A fist was lowered on Itadori’s head, and I couldn’t help but let out a genuine wince, seeing how hard he was hit on the head.

“Leave it at that, Yuuji,” Fushiguro sighed. “She’s busy, so leave her be.”

“Alright, alright, no need to get violent,” He huffed before turning to me, letting out a little hopeful smile. “Well uh, hope to see you around then?”

“Yeah,” The twinkle in his eye set off a little feeling of nausea in me. “Around. Sure.”

“Great! See you around!” 

“You said that twice, idiot,” Fushiguro sighed, pulling Itadori away by the back of the collar of his shirt.

“Thanks for lunch, by the way!” I called out before turning to close my dorm door, but not without Itadori gleefully yelling back ‘You’re welcome!’

“Busy, huh?” Nobara chimed. “I was hoping you weren’t too busy for me.”

“You’re always welcome, Nobara,” I sigh, walking over to help her clean up.

“So you don’t like them?”

“It’s not that I don’t like Itadori and Fushiguro. I just didn’t come here to make friends. I came here to become stronger, to fight for myself and others.”

“Sheesh, straight to the point,” She shrugs. “Can’t blame you for that. But hey, here’s to hoping we’ll be in the same class. I need another gal in my class, not sure how much longer I can tolerate those guys.”

“Hah! You handle them perfectly fine, Nobara, don’t take yourself for granted,” I pat her on the back as I take the two small plastic bags of trash, chucking them into my bin.

“Hey, you handled them well too, although it was in a silent, deadly-stare kinda way,” She muttered the last bit, before sighing and walking towards my dorm door.

“Heading out?”

“Yeah, unless you want me to stay on and help,” She then pointed at my eyes. “Though I can tell your social battery is practically dead.”

I let a smile slip onto my features, and that’s enough for her to know. She lowers her hand, reaching for the door as I hear it click open.

“You know me too well, Nobara. I’ll see you around?”

“Just text or call me, dork,” She calls out, the door closing behind her.

A soft laugh escapes me, and I’m left alone in the silence again. I look over to my suitcase, before getting up to lock my door. Once that was done, I seat myself back by my barely unpacked suitcase. 

I didn’t pack many clothes. It wasn’t like I needed anything more than my uniform and maybe a few casual outing clothes. I was here to learn, maybe hang with Nobara, but nothing more, nothing less.

As soon as my clothes were kept away in the cupboard, the photo in my bag caught my eye. It was enough to capture my full attention, and I closed my wardrobe shut, walking over to my case to take the paper image instead.

“Mama.”

Her eyes, shining like stars in the dark vast of space, were filled with such warmth, her arms wrapped around a much smaller version of me and my baby brother. My father stood behind her, a wide smile stretched across his cheeks.

We looked happy.

Never did I ever think I would see my father’s smile again. But it would always be there in my memories, in my pictures, reminding me of my wrongs – my mistakes; my actions.

My thumb rubs across the surface of the once-fond memory, swiping off the tears that landed on it. Couldn’t afford to lose more of what once was. I sit on my bed, feeling the mattress sink under me. The picture sits on my bedside table, but a feeling of longing and irritation nags me.

I suck my teeth in annoyance, and all that’s left is to face whatever’s eating at me.

I find myself standing in the middle of the room, taking one last look at us, smiling without care. I pull my phone from my pocket, scrolling through my notes before landing on a specific one. I’ve never cast this technique for a single reason, but I needed advice now more than ever.

Taking one last glance at the little text on my screen, I turned my phone off, returning all my focus to my newest technique.

“Beyond the grave and from the dead.”

It started with flickering lights. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t afford distractions, I couldn’t afford to mess up again.

“I beseech the knowledge within your head.”

The windows rattled and the rapid flickering of the lightbulbs worsened.

“I seek your guidance, oh passing spirit. Until my time has reached its limit.”

Silence. It surrounded me, everything deathly still. My eyes opened, and I was in darkness. A dim light glowed from the lights above, though I doubted that the lights were this purple before.

My back straightened, and I let out a sigh of relief, a weight lifting off my chest. I slipped a card out of my pocket, my thumb rubbing against the sigil of the Eight of Wands. I held it straight before me, upright, as I forced the next words out of my mouth.

“I now reveal Yamomoto Chizuru, wife of Shu Daichi, and former user of the Spiritual Technique.”

And there she stood, eyes warm as ever, despite the coldness they held in her dying moments. A smile rested on her lips, arms outstretched in welcome.

“Tsubame,” Her voice filled my ears, and my vision watered with newly unshed tears. “How good it is to finally speak to you.”

“Okaa-san.”

gif by @heycaz

taglist: @mooncleaver @underwateredwrld @mcmisbehaving @neteyamrealgf @khany2026 @tinkerbelle05 @iheartamajiki < comment/dm me if you’d like to be on the taglist! >

The Caged Beast

Itadori Yuji x Reader / Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

There was a curse living inside your husband.

The strongest curse was only able to stay alive inside Itadori.

Rather than choosing death, Sukuna decided to stay in Yuji.

As the years passed, many things happened.

Yuji changed, grew into a man, met you and got married.

You were a kind soul.

Someone even Sukuna looked at with suspicion. 

Kind yet deadly, is the correct description.

You could be smiling, baking cookies in one second and in the next, you could be slaying curses left and right.

Sukuna had to admit, that Yuji chose well. He approved of you.

And now, after three years of marriage, you were pregnant. 

Your first child and Sukuna knew it would be a girl.

A little girl indeed.

A beautiful and healthy little girl. 

A true princess.

Yuji helped you every second of your pregnancy and even now with your baby.

He helped when he didn't have to go to fight.

Like now, Yuji was out with Megumi while you gave a bath to your daughter.

Yui, lovingly named after his father, was a rather calm baby. She liked to sleep and babble when she was awake. 

Yui adored her father and you. She wanted to be held at all times.

A true princess.

You soon dried her with a soft towel and got her into her fluffy pyjamas. 

Placing her on your chest you started to watch a show on TV.

The front door opened, but you were too immersed in the show to care.

"Food is on the table, I'm watching this, I hope the lady wins!" you said not looking away but you did notice your husband walk into the room. He moved over and got Yui from your chest, placing it on his as he sat down next to you on the couch.

His silence should have alarmed you.

It truly should have.

But it didn't.

Instead, you didn't even notice that Yuji didn't say a word until the show was long finished.

Then you felt it, the change, but it didn't scare you.

"Nice to see you from time to time. What prompted your visit?" you turned and looked at Ryomen.

His eyes locked with yours.

"I just wanted to see my Princess." he said as he ran his hand down Yui's back.

"She is Yuji's Princess." you said as you reached for your cup of tea and started to drink.

"I live inside this idiot. You made sure I would never leave. At least, let me have an hour with her."

You found it strange how Ryomen liked your daughter so much.

"You can have your hour. Just making sure you know she is not yours."

"She is My Princess. The only being on this world worth being in this idiot's body."

"Ouch. So it is not worth living for me? And here I thought we had a thing."

"I would have made you my bride. You are way too powerful for me to ignore." you nodded and began to look for something on the TV.

Yui slowly began to stir.

"She must be hungry," you said. "Her bottle is on the counter." you pointed behind yourself, not looking away from the TV.

"Are you joking?"

"It is part of your hour, go feed her." 

Sukuna mumbled something under his breath before leaving to get the bottle.

As he sat in her room, feeding and burping her, Sukuna wondered if he should tell you.

Since he became a part of Itadori's body, when you bonded their souls during a fight, technically this was as much as his body as it was Itadori's. So technically, the child sleeping in his arms was as much his as it was Itadori's.

Yuji asked you during a very intense fight to bond Sukuna to his body. Destroy the rest of his fingers and kill him.

But you couldn't do it.

You love Yuji too much to hurt him, instead, you bonded Sukuna to his soul, using Yuji as a cage to hold the beast.

You didn't know but by doing so, you got Sukuna's blood mixed with Yuji's. You didn't know or rather you chose to ignore the fact.

Sukuna was sure you didn't know but had suspicions.

You were a smart woman after all.

But you loved Yuji. Sukuna was just a plus one in the mix, one no one asked for or needed. But he was there.

Yui is Yuji's daughter. And you will never let anyone tell you otherwise.

--- 

You looked up as he exited the room, it was Yuji this time.

You smiled at him as you rushed to hug him.

"Did you put her to sleep?"

"Yup. Weird, I can't remember coming home."

"You are too tired, let's go to bed." 

Yuji smiled and you both moved to the bedroom.

You quickly fell asleep when Ryomen decided that he still had 10 minutes of his hour.

He looked at you sleeping beside him, it was strange. He only ever cared about power.

He lived to see the fear in people.

And yet, you never feared him, he feared you.

Your fierce attitude, your power and that look... is that what they call a mother's look? You could make the entire room shut up with just one look of yours.

Fierce and powerful. Yuji didn't deserve you in his eyes, he did.

But he was okay with getting just an hour with you and Yui... for now.

i swear im working on a fanfic, i just fell sick lmaooo

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.”

-

Taglist:

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@sizeablysized

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@asteria33

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@mrs-morales

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@artsmoons

Far From Home

Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

Obsessive!Prowler!Miles Morales x Spidergirl!Reader

Warning(s): slight violence, nothing too crazy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aaron! You shouldn’t have…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miles…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i am recieving lots of questions as to why i am not in contact with abbie, and heres what i have to say about the matter --

DISCOURSE mentions of pedophiles, comments towards minors, so on..

1) me and abbie’s friendship had taken a rocky start, where the first time she had interacted with anything of mine, was her replying under a post where i thanked my followers for reaching 2k, in which she had said something along the lines of; "woah 2k you have nearly 4x my following" which, could be brushed off as admiration/support. i found it flat-out weird since i think comparing yourself and someone else is completely weird in itself especially being a first impression – and it only gets weirder with time. while abbie’s and my friendship progresses. abbie had took it upon herself to post about creating a collab with me, without my prior knowledge to the fact we were to maybe do a collab together. After that, friend x, comes into the story and he invites me and abbie to join a server (the people in said server are lovely, and have no relevance, and dont play any part in any malicious things mentioned to be done by abbie, and generally aren’t involved in the situation, outside of the second paragraph).

2) Once we joined the server, abbie had been nice, and sweet in general to all members of the server, which i had no issues, or no comments about. However, something peaked my attention, when writers in said server began to exchange tumblr users with abbie, she had immediately acted as if she had known/read the work from those writers, despite saying “she only writes jjk for the notes” while those said writers were predominately jjk writers. Now the real issue applies when abbie begins to bring up follower counts, as she had previously done with me, mentioned above.  I was viewing, but wasn’t fairly active in the chat, i had seen my url come up alongside one other writers, being mentioned by abbie. Someone had brought up the fact that said writer was famous, to which abbie responded, agreeing and calling them famous alongside the other people. Someone had told abbie “you’re famous too abbie” in which they had a playful back and forth about their followers. i hadn’t been involved, let alone hadn’t been adding to the conversation, aside from me encouraging and supporting those who had mentioned their follower count. Abbie had begun bringing me into the thing they had going on, saying “SAELESTIA AND @(URL) ARE FAMOUS” “RAIN IS MORE FAMOUS THAN ME” etcetc.

Side note ; abbie had come to me while on the discussion of a previous situation happening on tumblr, about how, “if it were to happen to her, she would change her name to ares” which caught me off guard, as a long term online friend of mine’s name is ares, and had a few days prior, sent an ask to my inbox, addressing himself for the first time on this blog. 

(Click to Read Full. )

3) I hadn’t brought the topic up to anyone, aside from friend x, i had told friend x that “if i texted abbie about important things, she wouldn’t care unless it is something to do with my followers” as i had begun growing more suspicious as to why she had been doing the things she was/acting the way she is. Friend x had suggested i a.) drop abbie, or b.) sort out miscommunications, as after i did end up following through with asking/telling abbie about stuff i had found important, such as ; a friends art, my puppies opening their eyes, me getting an 100 on an exam, me having an upcoming exam, etc. to which she had simply responded with “oh?” until i had mentioned that i had reached 3k. She had immediately begun typing in caps, calling me famous and so on. 

4) After i had sent that message, i had sent the screenshots to friend x, who had begun to see the way that abbie was acting had affected me. Friend x had advised me to drop abbie, but i had wanted another opinion incase i was looking too deep into the matter. I had begun to talk to friend y. Friend y had immediately understood and agreed with my concerns about abbie, and was being very respectful and helpful with the matter. I had question abbie as to why she only excitedly responded to my message when it was about my followers, to which she’d respond how she didn’t see anything else as worth caring about. ( in the screenshots above and below)

5) Abbie had then reached out to friend x, asking them for advice on how to pursue the situation with me, which i found odd, considering:

1. Abbie has used the fact she has communication issues to avoid conflict, while also stating she likes and enjoys drama. 

2. Abbie hadn’t brought these issues to me. 

after a discussion with abbie, friend x, had given abbie a little bit of advice, and what he thought was input on how i felt, to which, abbie had come out with excuses for herself as to why she had been acting the way she was. Saying how she couldn’t tell when i was “joking or being serious.” but any person who could pick up on social cues could realize/pick up on a joke based on the joking tone. From then, abbie had apologized, one sentence, and without any accountability being held. In response, i said “k” and hadn’t texted her all day, my final text being one of me dropping her. In response to me blocking + dropping her, she went to the server that was mentioned earlier, and ranted in the vent channel that her life sucks because i dropped her, while also providing little to no context as for why.

6) After being informed that i was still in the groupchat, she had went out of her way to dm friend z about her side of the situation, still leaving out key details. Friends x and y had felt bad for the stuff abbie was saying, and had both reached out to friend z to let her know the truth about the situation, after which abbie would continue to talk about me, resulting in me sending out a second message, and eventually needing a third. After the final message, abbie had blocked me, changed her discord url, and her display name to mirinae, and jinko. recently, a new account has surfaced on tumblr, and has been shared to me by others. the url belonging to abbie, who has begun acting like a friend of herself. after i left the collab, she was persistant on regrouping friend z into her collab, in attempt to save her collab, rather than hosting on her own.

7) Now you might be thinking, how does this situation become more serious? In between the story, abbie has done other things to further cause distaste, and discomfort between her, x, y, z and myself. General Summarized List

Being upset when me and x jokingly flirt in front of her

Calling friend z (who’s a minor) “bae” 

Sympathizing for a ped0phille

Supporting a racist artist

Victimizing herself 

Manipulating and guilt-tripping people into joining her collab after i had left

Misgendering someone

Misgenering X countless of times (despite them going by the same pronouns the entire time we’ve known him.)

She then blocked me, changed her discord url to Jinko, and mirinae. Her new account is @mirinae, her old blog was haithamvoid and that is all i have to say as of now.

I’ve never wanted a character to romance me more than I do Tomoya Serizawa from Suzume like come on he listens to old romance songs how could you not!!!

(I also totally wasn’t thinking about wanting him to rail me when he pulled out a cigarette while driving 😳)