#spider-son | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rahhhbananas · 10 months

Text

✭ ✭ ✭ 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐍 ✭ ✭ ✭ ft. a lot of characters

summary. Y/n is very protective of his son (aka Spider Plush).

warning(s). He/Him pronouns, foul language, Hobie is a major bully

a/n. Y/n and Spider-Plush are the new Miguel and Lego Spider-Man

“He is a person! And you will treat him that way!”

The voice of Y/n welcomed the newly woken society. It was around 7 am, and a commotion had begun in Miguel’s office. As the sun lazily illuminated the sky, Miles groggily made his way towards Miguel's office, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes. He couldn't fathom why there was such a commotion at this early hour. "Why is there so much yelling? It's 7 in the morning...!" he groaned, his voice laced with exhaustion. Miles walked through the door, greeting Gwen and Peter B. who were watching the scene amused. Miles looked to see Y/n in a heated debate with both Miguel and Hobie, although it was mostly Hobie, Miguel was sitting down, trying to sooth an incoming migraine.

Pavitr stood at Y/n’s side, cradling a….Spider-Man…plushie? “What is going on here..” Miles who was now wide awake stared at the situation, looking at Gwen for answers. Gwen responded with a chuckle “Get this…their arguing because Hobie skipped Spider-Plush in line for breakfast.” Gwen managed to say between fits of laughter. Miles gave Gwen a look “So, he doesn’t believe in consistency and he doesn’t believe in manners?” Miles watched Y/n, who looked like he was on the brink of committing murder, due to Hobie’s nonchalant face. Peter chimed in, catching a swinging Mayday “I don’t think he did it to be rude. Maybe because he likes getting on Y/n’s nerves,”

Jess who just walked in looked at Peter, “This early morning air finally gave you a brain?” She walked towards Miguel, handing him water and probably a headache pill. Miguel thanked Jess, looking up at the continuing argument. “Yeah..and how did Pavitr get into all this?” Miles questioned, Gwen laughed, for what seemed to be the 4th time “That’s even funnier! He’s trying to take Hobie to court,” Miles smiled, seeing the obvious amusement in the situation “Yeah, somehow he’s got a diploma in that stuff.” Jess chimed in from the computer.

“That’s not the fucking point, Hobart! My son deserves respect! You’ve made him cry!” Y/n gestures to the “crying” plushie, and Pavitr who’s nodding in agreement. Hobie scoffed “Cryin? He’s got a tear sticker on ‘is face! You’ve got yourself fooled!”. This was Miguel’s last straw, he finally flipped the table, literally, sending everything flying— including the cup of water, that Spider-Plush was now drowned in. Gasp filled the small crowd, the laughter coming to a halt to stare at Y/n who was breathing heavily, trying to calm down.

Y/n slowly turned, looking at the soaked Spider-Plush. The plush squeaked, comical tears spewing from its large eyes. Y/n turned to Miguel and Hobie— the latter raised his hands, in a attempt to prove his innocence, he instead pointed to the leader who sported a small bead of sweat, his posture straightened “Umm, that was an accident- I was trying to de-escalate the situation. My anger over took…” Y/n pounced on Miguel, not letting him finish his sentence. Miguel tried to pull the other off his face, stumbling around while knocking things over.

“I-it was an accident!”

“YOU HORRIBLE PERSON!”

“GAAH! WHERE DID THESE CLAWS COME FROM?”

“DON’T….WORRY ABOUT IT!”

“JESSGETHIMOFFME!”

“Sorry, Miguel. I’m not getting into this fight.”

“APOLOGIZE OR SUFFER!”

“AHHHH!”

The crowd watched in silence as Miguel walked out with a bucket on his head, drenched in water. Y/n, on the other hand, walked out cradling his son, the plush wrapped in a towel, Y/n cooed trying to calm down the squeaks emitting from the plushie. Y/n walks up to the group, staring directly at Hobie “Hobart. My lawyer will contact you.” Y/n pointed to Pavitr, and somehow the teen was in a suit. Hobie chuckled, “Fair enough.” Hobie looked at Gwen “Gwendy. Ya down to be my lawyer?” Gwen shook her head “Nope, your not dragging me into this.” Hobie sighed in defeat “Alrigh’ Miles, see ya in a suit on Tuesday.” Hobie shook said boys shoulders, before running off, leaving the boy no time to complain.

Y/n looked at his boyfriend, tutting his head “Fine. Miles. You wanna play that game? Helping my enemy!” Y/n groaned, pulling shades from seemingly nowhere, while also putting them on “I want my child support by Friday,” Y/n said, striding away, Pavitr shuffling after him, the stuff suit preventing him from running.

Meanwhile, Miles stood shocked “Child support? Wha…what is he talking about!” Gwen shook her head disapprovingly “Come on Miles, don’t play dumb, take responsibility.” She advised before departing, leaving Peter who shook his head as well “Don’t worry kid, we’ve all been there..” Peter smiles, before joining the rest.

“Wha- what are you guys talking about!”

3K notes · View notes

vampsywrites · 9 months

Text

just a scratch

synopsis: while out on in the forest, you were busy foraging for healing herbs. everything was going well until you ended up getting hurt. and despite your best efforts to conceal and downplay your wounds, you end up failing miserably once you faint right in front of the entire clan.

characters: tarsem, tsu'tey + son! spider, aged up! neteyam, aged up! ao'nung x reader (all seperate)

tags: tsahik! na'vi! reader, hurt/comfort, warnings for blood, injuries, cuts, fainting, self-indulgent prompt, arguments, brief mentions of past trauma (tsu'tey), really overprotective mates, possibly ooc

son spider best spider, neteyam is about to have a stroke bc of his stubborn ass mate, ao'nung is an annoying shit but he's your annoying shit.

It was just a scratch.

A faint trail of blood marked a delicate line across the expanse of your torso, a disquieting contrast against your azure skin. A burning sensation flared up on your sides and yet, in spite of it, you pushed yourself off of the tree's trunk, grabbed your basket of herbs and trudged back towards your village.

At your sudden movement, the scratch stung harder, sending a searing hot, white pain up your torso. Gritting your teeth, you bit back a hiss of pain.

You were fine. It was fine. You had probably just pulled it when you stood up.

As you approach the village, you notice how a few of your people turn and gasp at your state. A cool shiver ran up your spine as you drop your gaze—Was it that bad?

Then comes a startling onslaught of dizziness that engulfs your consciousness. Before you could comprehend what was happening, your cheek meets the coarse texture of the earth beneath you, a jarring impact that sends your basket tumbling from your grasp. With a grunt, you strain your head up to see the herbal leaves scatter about.

As you fall, a wave of panic ripples through the crowd. Faintly, you register multiple pairs of hands coming to your aid, hoisting your limp body onto a woven mat.

"Call for the Olo'eyktan!"

TARSEM

"If we strike from here, the trees will provide us with ample cover," Tarsem remarked, his fingers gliding across the aged parchment of the map, tracing the landscapes with a keen eye.

Warriors and spotters encircled the table, their gazes fixed on his every move, minds soaking in every detail of the strategy unfolding before them. It was due time they began planning for their next attack on the RDA bases, it had been months since then.

Before the next words could be uttered, the room was thrust into chaos as a young girl burst through the door, her arrival punctuated by ragged breaths and a wild panic etched across her face. The warriors instinctively parted, creating a path through the sea of bodies, granting her passage toward Tarsem.

"Ma Olo'eyktan!" she panted, her voice trembling as she clutched his forearms tightly. "The Tsahìk was discovered unconscious deep in the forest. The healers are calling for you!"

"What?" Tarsem's expression tightened, a flicker of worry crossing his eyes. He swiftly surveyed the assembled warriors and spotters, his tone strung but composed as he addressed them.

"Continue the preparations," he commanded. "But be ready to adapt the plan if necessary. I will go and check on my mate. Until I return, Osek, you will be in charge."

Osek, a respected warrior renowned for his leadership abilities, nodded with a solemn expression. The rest of the group echoed their understanding, their voices hushed with concern. With the meeting taken care of, Tarsem turned his attention back to the young girl.

"Take me to her," he murmured, ears flat against his head as his posture turned rigid.

The young healer, with her face flushed and brows furrowed, nodded. Taking his hand, she began to lead Tarsem out of the tent, her steps matching his swift pace as they traversed the winding paths of the settlement.

As they ventured closer to the outskirts of the settlement, the ambient noises of the bustling camp faded away, replaced by the serene symphony of nature. Approaching the clearing where you had been laid to rest, Tarsem's steps grew cautious as he gently parted through the small crowd of healers, making his way towards your side.

"Ma'yawne," he whispered, his voice affectionate yet worried at the same time. The Na'vi knelt down beside you, brushing your damp hair away from your face. His gaze, a pool of tenderness, drank in the sight of you lying on the woven mat.

"What has happened?" Tarsem questioned those around you, only for them to shrug. They were just as clueless as he was.

Tarsem sighed, his frown deepening as he took in your appearance once more, noting the dizziness in your eyes and the pallor on your cheeks. However, it was the deep, crimson gash marring your side that captured his attention the most—a wound he guessed was inflicted by either a sharp branch or an encounter with Pandora's many wild animals.

"I…I am alright," you murmured, your voice a fragile reassurance, as you ran a hand over the wound, hissing at the touch. "It is not as deep as it seems. A few bandages will suffice. Return to your duties. The warriors need you."

"Nonsense," Tarsem shook his head, moving to tuck his arms beneath your back and knees. "I cannot leave you like this," he insisted, his voice firm yet gentle. "Your well-being is of utmost importance. The meeting can wait. Right now, you need proper care."

The look in Tarsem's eyes left no room for argument, reaffirming that his mind was made up.

Heaving a sigh, you gave in and nestled into his embrace, placing your weary head atop his chest, finding solace in the rhythmic beat of his heart. With ease, Tarsem carefully stood up with you in his arms, cradling you against his chest. Your mate began carrying you back towards the settlement, calling out for a few of the more experienced healers to follow along.

Once you had arrived in your shared kelku, he set you atop a hammock, staying close to your side but making sure to clear the way for the healers who would attend to you.

Turning your head back, you smiled up at him. "Thank you, Tarsem."

Tarsem simply hummed and lowered his head, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of your temple, lips a feather-light caress against your skin.

"Of course, yawne," he murmured, his voice a hushed vow. "I will always be here for you."

NETEYAM

"Kiri, it's nothing," you sighed, pushing yourself off the hammock, arms trembling. "I swear to you, I feel much better now."

Kiri clicked her tongue disapprovingly, shaking her head as she pushed you back down. "I am not even finished with your bandages, and the healing paste hasn't taken effect yet. You must rest, tsmuke."

You wrenched a hand into your disheveled hair as you let out a frustrated sigh.

"The herbs I gathered earlier—moonflower, healing rose—they're all gone, they lay wasted on the ground," you lamented. "We need to restock our supplies before the ambush in two days. It's absolutely crucial. Without fresh provisions, we'll be ill-equipp—"

"I will have the trainees gather the herbs, and I will inform Neteyam about your injury so you can rest easy. I am very sure he will understand," Kiri interrupted your rambling, her tone firm as she began wrapping bandages over your torso. At the mention of your mate's name, a pang of apprehension shot through you.

Oh Eywa, how would Neteyam react? He was already so protective of you, and this injury would no doubt only amplify his vigilance. You won't be able to leave the house for a month without him tailing after you like a second shadow.

"There's no need to involve Neteyam," you hurriedly interjected, forcefully pushing Kiri aside as you mustered the strength to stand on your feet, despite the pain. "I'm fine."

Before you could take another step, the tent curtains were abruptly thrown open, and a figure rushed in. A pair of amber eyes widened with concern as they locked onto your limping form.

Neteyam.

As he approached, his typically composed and reserved expression cracked, revealing the deep worry etched on his face.

It seemed like he ran all the way here. The Na'vi was in a frantic haste, sweat cascading down his furrowed brows while beads of perspiration clung to his jawline.

"By Eywa, what happened?" Neteyam's voice quivered with panic as he reached out, hands trembling slightly while he steadied you.

You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but the pain coursing through your body made it difficult. "Neteyam, I… I'm fine," you managed to say, your voice strained.

"No, you are not fine." Neteyam's distress was palpable, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. "Look at you!"

Now he could properly see the swelling and gash on your torso, haphazardly covered by the unfinished leaf bandages clinging to your skin. A surge of horror washed over his face as he beheld the sight, eyes blowing wide open. Quickly, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to conceal the extent of your injury.

"'Teyam," you attempted to calm him, shaking off his iron grip. "It's not as bad as it looks. It's just a scratch."

"A scratch?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "What are you talking about, syulang? That is no a scratch. Why are you even up? You need to rest."

"I have responsibilities to fulfill, Neteyam," you huffed, stomping your feet in frustration, your actions mirroring those of a stubborn child. "You, of all people, should understand that."

Neteyam's tail lashed by his feet, a clear warning tinged with a touch of anger. Protective instincts, ingrained deep within, surged forth like a tempestuous storm.

"Do not argue with me," Neteyam's voice turned firm, his tone low. "I understand your position as Tsahìk is demanding, but this stubbornness will not aid your recovery. Do you really think you can heal in such a state?"

His stern words struck you hard, causing you to flinch involuntarily. The weight of his concerns settled heavily upon your heart, and yet your unwavering determination refused to give in to his protectiveness.

"I know why you're worried," you sighed, gently placing a hand over his chest, hoping to soothe him. "But I cannot remain here while important tasks await me. There is work to be done!"

Neteyam heaved a sigh, pushing you back down. His hands, roughened by countless battles, reached out to tenderly cradle your face. With a gentle motion, his thumb traced delicate circles onto your cheeks, the soothing caress speaking volumes of his love. His intense gaze then softened, those golden eyes losing their fiery edge as he allowed his anger to dissipate.

"I know you have an unwavering sense of duty, sevin," Neteyam murmured, the endearment rolling off his tongue like silk, a term reserved only for you. "And I love that about you. But sometimes, the best course of action is to prioritize your own well-being," he continued, peering deep into your eyes.

His warm, tender affections began to gradually chip away at the walls of your stubborn resolve. Though you initially resisted, deep down, you couldn't deny the truth in his words. Neteyam always knew how to get you to back down.

A bitter sigh slipped from your lips, laced with a hint of snark that thinly veiled the vulnerability simmering beneath.

"I hate admitting defeat," you grumbled, your tone tinged with reluctance, "But fine, you win. I'll rest."

As your words reached his ears, the corners of Neteyam's mouth curved into a grin, a blend of relief and amusement dancing in his eyes. In that moment, he couldn't resist the urge to draw closer, resting his large hands on your waist as he leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips.

"Thank you, yawne," he chuckled softly.

TSU'TEY

(context: spider is your adopted son; although i decided to hint at him being an avatar in this scenario, you may also choose to perceive him as human instead.)

"Call for the Olo'eyktan!"

As you lay upon the bark floors of the Hometree, your mind spun, dots of black tainting your vision. With a low whimper, you attempted to raise yourself from the ground, only for a pair of hands to push down on your shoulder. You watched as your son's face came into view, twisted into a panicked expression as he took in your injury.

"Ma? Hey, hey, stay with me," Spider rasped, tenderly running his hand over your damp forehead. Eyes narrowing, you found yourself struggling to focus on his face, barely catching the look of worry in his eyes, and the lines of fear etched on his brow.

"Spider…" you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible. "I-It's okay. I can get up."

He shook his head, his grip on your shoulder tightening. "No, Ma, you need help. You can't push through this on your own."

You wanted to protest, to insist that you should be able to endure such trivial injuries, but your body betrayed you, the pain overwhelming and disorienting. As a healer, unlike your son and mate who were seasoned warriors, you weren't used to such levels of pain.

The stinging on your torso intensified with each shallow breath, making it difficult to form coherent thoughts or speak. Noticing your distress, Spider hurriedly reached a hand up to his communication device, paging for his father.

"Dad? You there?" Spider's voice cracked, laden with worry. "It's an emergency."

A familiar voice crackled through the communication device, filled with concern. Tsu'tey spoke, the rush of wind howling in the background. He must have been out on a ride with his ikran. "Ma'Itan, what has happened? Is everything alright?"

Spider's voice trembled as he responded, his distress palpable. "No, Dad, it's not alright. Mom is hurt. She fainted while gathering herbs, and she's in pain. There's a gash on her side. I…I don't know what to do."

Tsu'tey's heart plummeted, his entire being consumed by an overwhelming fear that gripped him to the core, seeping into the depths of his being. Reacting swiftly, his grip tightened on the reins of his Ikran, abruptly pivoting its course back toward Hometree. In the midst of his panic, he nearly forgot to respond.

After a momentary silence, his voice broke through, steady but laced with urgency. "I am on my way. Just keep her stable."

Spider nodded, ending connection before he moved to cradle your head in his hands. "Hang in there, Ma. Dad is coming. Just hold on a little longer."

As your consciousness wavered, the world around you seemed blurred and distant. Tremors of pain pulsed through your body, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on your son's voice. Soon enough, your strength fails you, and your eyelids grow heavy. Everything around you fades away, and your consciousness slips into oblivion.

As you gradually regain consciousness, the world before you seemed shrouded in a haze, the remnants of your unconscious state still clinging to your senses. Blinking away the drowsiness, you found yourself within the confines of a dimly lit tent, its earthy aroma intermingling with the soft flickering glow of a nearby fire.

"Tsmuke," Neytiri says softly, her voice filled with both relief and worry. The tenderness in her voice offering you solace, like a soothing melody in your ears.

"Thank Eywa," she grins, running her hand up your cheek. "Do not worry; you are safe now."

Before you could respond, a firm arm wraps around your center, tugging you into a sitting position. Spider frantically pulls you up and into his tight embrace, face twisted in relief as he sighed deeply. "Hey, Ma. I'm so glad you're awake."

"My brave boy," you hummed, a bittersweet warmth erupting in your chest as you pressed a tender kiss on his forehead. The familiar scent of the forest clung to him—a reminder of his untamed spirit as a warrior who roamed the jungles with no fear.

At that moment, your gaze shifted to Tsu'tey, who anxiously hovered by the entrance, tail whipping by his feet. Sensing the tension in the air, Neytiri quietly left the healing tent, granting you a moment of privacy. With her departure, Tsu'tey finally lifts his head and catches your gaze, taking it as a sign to approach you.

"Yawne," He calls out for you, his voice trembling like the leaves of a quivering tree. It's a plea and a rebuke, all at once, his tone a blend of protectiveness and affection.

Spider then releases you from his hug, allowing his father to take his place. Tsu'tey kneels down and moves to hold you, embracing you so tight that it was as if he was trying to merge your souls together, desperate to ensure your safety.

"What were you thinking?" Tsu'tey grumbles into your hair, "I have told you many times to never venture out into the forests alone. You know better than to endanger yourself."

Sighing, you leaned into the embrace of your mate, finding comfort in his presence. Your cheek finds rest against Tsu'tey's collarbones, the rough texture of his beaded necklace grounding you in the familiarity of his touch.

"I did not know the cut was that bad. I had a lot of work to attend to, so I thought I could handle it," you admitted, your voice weary.

As you nestled against him, Tsu'tey found his anger melting into something warmer, something softer. He draws you back slightly, hands cupping the sides of your face as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice now a caress against your skin.

"I know your work is important to you," he grunts. "But you must prioritize your safety."

"Tsu'tey—" you started, only to be interrupted.

"I cannot bear the thought of losing you. I have lost too much over the years," Tsu'tey took a moment to pause, his gaze searching the depths of your eyes for understanding. He needed you to understand. "This cannot go on like this. You must promise me that you will be more careful."

The vulnerability in his voice tugged at your heartstrings. A wave of guilt washed over you as you realized the fear you had awakened within him, causing old scars of his to resurface. With a sigh, you closed your eyes.

"I did not mean to frighten you. I will stay safer. I promise," you muttered, moving away from his embrace. "But things like this are inevitable. There will be times when you and Spider won't be by my side to protect me."

Tsu'tey and Spider exchanged glances, their expressions filled with concern. Without uttering a word, Tsu'tey enveloped both you and Spider in an embrace.

"We will come for you," he declared firmly. "No matter what. When you need us, we will be there."

AO'NUNG

As your consciousness flickered in and out, you became vaguely aware of the commotion around you. The panicked voices of your clan members and the urgent footsteps only added to your disorientation. And yet, amidst the chaos, a singular phrase pierced through the fog of your mind with an undeniable clarity.

"Call for the Olo'eyktan!"

That sent a chill down your spine, and you knew that the situation had escalated beyond your control. With great effort, you managed to open your eyes, the vibrant blue hues of the sky and the crashing waves on the shore seeping into your vision in strained fragments.

It did not take long for, Ao'nung to arrive. He emerged from beneath the waves, propelled by his skimwing beneath him. A frown was etched onto his face as he waded through the shallow waters, gliding across the waves with unmistakable urgency.

Upon reaching the shores, he swiftly dismounted from his skimwing, leaping onto the sand with ease. Pushing through the growing crowd that had gathered around you, he cleared a path to reach your side.

Lifting you off of the mat, he cradled you against his chest. "Yawntu?" Ao'nung's voice cut through the haze of your mind, "Are you alright? Can you hear me?"

With utmost care, your mate then shifted your body to the side, his gaze fixated on the deep cut marring your torso. The gash, painted in a vivid crimson, created a sharp contrast against the mesmerizing azure of your skin. The sight of it made his jaw tense, frustration evident.

"I-It is just a minor wound," you managed to utter through gritted teeth, your mind clearing as pain began to pulse through your body.

"Tsireya has already been called...She will help, but for now, I need your help in cleansing this," you murmur, gesturing to your bloodied side.

With a disgruntled nod, Ao'nung hoisted you into his arms and ordered the crowd to disperse. Once the people had departed, he began to take steady strides towards the water.

As the water levels reached the height of his chest, he shifted his position to support your head in the dip of his arm, allowing most of your body to be submerged beneath the rocking waves.

"I knew I should have come with you," he sighed, his voice barely heard above the salty swirling winds.

After a few seconds of struggling to find your voice, you managed to respond, though the words emerged with a subtle undertone of discomfort. "'Nung, it's only a cut…I think I just scraped myself along against a tree."

"Ah, yes, just a scrape against a tree," Ao'nung scoffed wryly, his mouth curling into a mocking sneer as his fangs peeked out from his lips. "I didn't know trees had razor sharp branches."

Cupping water in his hand, Ao'nung began to wash the upper parts of your cut that wasn't submerged. As the sting of saltwater made contact with the rest of your open wound, a sharp hiss of pain escaped your lips. This caused him to furrow his brow, concern swimming in those looming teal eyes.

"The pain seems to suggest otherwise," he noted, a heavy dose of sarcasm dripping from his lips.

"Funny," you replied, rolling your eyes in response.

Despite his biting remarks, his actions betrayed him, revealing a tenderness beneath that arrogant façade. His fingers moved with an uncharacteristic grace, tracing the contours of your cut as he delicately cleansed it, each touch a testament to his natural instincts as a mate to alleviate your discomfort.

It was a softness that you had grown accustomed to, but you knew that if any of the warriors caught a glimpse of their rugged chief in such a nurturing and affectionate state, their jaws would hit the ground so hard, you'd think Eywa herself had caused an earthquake.

As Ao'nung tended to your wound, he used his other hand to gently turn your head, guiding your gaze to meet his. Confused, you raised your brow. "Yes? What is it?"

"I will accompany you to your forages from now on. And I will not take no for an answer," he declared, his voice flat and void of any mirth.

And there it was.

"Ma Ao'nung," you cooed, your voice a velvety caress that was laden with both affection and understanding. "You worry too much about me. I am not as fragile as sea glass, you know."

A flicker of raw emotion danced across his irises, momentarily unraveling his stoic guise before he swiftly masked it with a dismissive scoff. "You should know by now that I won't let anything happen to you," he grumbled, ears tucked back as he meets your eyes.

"You may not be as fragile as sea glass, but you are precious to me," he says, voice a gravelly murmur. "I know you're strong, but that doesn't mean I will stop worrying."

With an amused click of your tongue, you leaned back against him, enveloped in the comforting warmth of his embrace. The gentle lapping of the ocean against your skin provided a soothing respite, easing your troubles away as you allowed him to dote on you.

yawne - beloved

syulang - flower

tsmuke - sister

yawntu - beloved one/loved one

sevin - pretty

kelku - house

2K notes · View notes