#been in a weird art mood the last few days

[owlhari]

the world's most adorable robot (don't tell his siblings)

[image description in alt text, higher quality individual drawings under the cut!]

[pushing500]

Colonist Gracie is a bit of a crybaby, and wants "Ancient Junk" around the colony, which I can't help with. We're doing what we can for her smokeleaf need, but it's not enough.

Luckily Debby kicked the crap out of her and left her bedridden for several hours, which should make her think twice before going on any more insulting sprees.

With seven hours left on the ship reactor startup cycle, another siege came upon Eureka. It was Yttakin again, and surprisingly there were no distant relations in this group.

Sadist Hazrov was allowed to take a crack at it with our singular mortar, and managed to blow off three whole legs in a single shot (two from one guy, one from the dude standing beside him)!!

They attacked us after that, but a combination of turrets, an army of well-trained attack animals, and lots of cool colonists with good combat skills was enough to send them fleeing pretty quickly.

And so, here we are...

First | Next | Previous

[lookingformoondrop]

Hiiii! Thanks for writing for tcoal! If you have time can I get a yandere Andrew x reader? Thanks :)

Sure thing~ Once again, it seems highly unlikely that Ashley would let this obsession slide, so for the sake of the story, she's been bliped. Happy (late) Halloween! <3

Yandere! Andrew GravesxReader

TW: Yandere themes, possession, obsession, murder, implied kidnapping, intimidation, stalking, Andrew has a foul mouth (Y/N too), not proofread

♡1,438 WORDS♡

Andrew Graves has a mask.

It's a very well crafted mask that's used to blend in with his peers, his friends, his girlfriends, his parents, and even himself.

It covers the dark parts of Andrew that even himself is too terrified to look at.

For if you look into the abyss, it looks back at you.

But when he met you, swinging back and forth at the playground swing, he could've sworn he heard something crack.

You were beautiful.

As he watched you, with the breeze blowing at your cute overalls and baggy shirt, god, so pretty.

Your smile could open the gates of the heavens. Your laugh could make rainbows last, your tears would be prettier than diamonds, and you in his cage would bring him closer to your hell.

He couldn't help but imagine you as some sort of art. Something valuable that wasn't ever to be touched by another person. Only seen by him, just him.

His mask cracked the more he looked at you.

That day started a life-long obsession.

He would venture to that park a few more times after that, until eventually introducing himself to you. Naive you, who believed him to be a kind and stoic person.

You weren't wrong, but it was your fault for thinking that's all it was.

Even if Andrew never admitted it to himself, the thought of you being his and ONLY his made his heart flutter.

How when you breathed, when you walked, when you spoke, when you laughed, it would all belong to him.

Those thoughts kept him awake at night, even if a light blush would always dust his cheeks.

As time went on, he learned that his dakmfk thoughts that he pushed to the back of his mind would only resurface when a man talked to you. Even a father-figure was enough to put him in a foul mood.

Andrew didn't say anything, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his blood boil.

"Andy? Are you okay? You've been glaring at the ground even since we walked past Mr. Mancho."

"Why do you even like him? He's so...weird," Mr. Mancho was an innocent looking math teacher, one that always smiled at the students. And yet, Andrew hated the fact he smiled at Y/N...he didn't like that very much.

"Weird? He's been pretty nice to me...," You scratched your chin in deep thought, "do you not like Mr. Mancho?"

Andrew looked up at your doe eyes and heard something crack again,

"...he keeps looking at my things."

Andrew justified his growing hatred.

Even as you shrugged away his weird moods whenever you talked to cousins, friends, and teachers, Andrew never lacked as your friend.

Through every obstacle, he'd be there to help you jump over them. Although he'd complain about jumping in the first place, he'd never leave you.

He'd care about your issues, he'd care for your wounds, and he'd listen to your problems.

Especially when you were bullied.

The keyword here is 'were'.

While in school, a boy had groped you. When confronting him about what happened, his friend group laughed at you, claiming that you were just making shit up for attention.

This had made you cry when you got home.

Something that Andrew instantly knew about...somehow.

"Jesus Y/N, what happened?"

"S- Some boy touched me, and- h-he then said I was just making it up for attention! My friends all believed him a-and I," you broke down in sobs as your day was retold to your best friend.

As you continued to share your day with Andrew, he remained completely silent.

Several times throughout the call, you'd check if he was even still on. Still, when you called out for him, he'd answer with praise for trying to stand up for yourself, no matter what they had said to you.

You didn't know it then, but Andrew was squeezing his pack of cigarettes so hard that by the time he had gotten off the phone with you, they were all broken.

The next week, when you came to school, authorities were there questioning all the students. When they came to you, it was explained that the boy who groped you was killed and stuffed into his parent's basement freezer. Along with his friends, who all mysterious died in the forest, with some sort of satanic pentagon painted beneath their bodies.

You told the police you knew nothing, and all your friends who had doubted you came to you in an instant with apologies.

When you had told Andrew everything that happened he had only said,

"How strange."

As the years went on and you grew older, your friendship with Andrew always stayed strong.

Andrew would never say it, but when he kissed your cheek or patted your head, he was screaming,'I love you.'

But his dark thoughts, the ones he kept far back in his mind, would only double.

"Andy! Guess what happened today?"

"Hah?" Andrew turned his head from his spot on the couch.

"This cute boy at my job said he would love to take me out to dinner sometime!" You smiled brightly at the sly possibility that your bad streak with love would finally be over.

Every guy that ever walked into your life promptly bolted for the door the moment you opened it.

Andrew always told you that those guys just didn't appreciate you enough and that someone who bolted just like that was a quitter. Ashley?

But even then, you never gave up. Despite the long list of guys who ghosted you randomly.

"Oh...you said no, right? "

"What?" You walked over to Andrew from the door of the apartment. "Why would I say no...?"

Andrew looked at you with a dark shadow over his face, "Y/N, there are millions of creeps and perverts that are going to ask you out. They're only leering at you for your body."

You frowned at this notion,

"When you go to your next shift, tell him you don't want to anymore." Andrew thought for a moment and then shook his head.

"What's wrong?"

Andrew looked at your confused eyes.

"Just realized I have to get up early tomorrow to take out the trash."

When you went back to work the next day, he had quit just as suddenly.

Sad and upset over the millionth guy that ghosted and dumped you, you'd sulk to Andrew. Who would always make you warm cup of tea.

"Dumbass, you just keep picking quitters. It's not because of you."

"But Andy, I haven't had a boyfriend in years! At this point I'll die alone, probably with you right there to bury me with my hundreds of cats."

Andrew laughed at that and reached his arm around your shoulder.

"Just wait a little longer Y/N, I'm sure there's some jackass out there waiting for you."

"Yeah, right." You smiled at Andrew, "You're the only jackass I know, though. "

You leaned your head on Andrew's shoulder and began to fall to sleep rather quickly.

"The only...jackass...in my life... Andy, I'm sleepy."

Andrew took a sip of his tea and placed the cup far away from your drink.

"Rest Y/N. When you wake up, you'll have me right there besides you."

"Andy?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, you're my best friend."

Andrew patted your hair as you drifted off to a drug-induced slumber.

"Yes, I'm your best friend," Andrew stared off to the distance as he thought about it.

"Soon, your only friend," He nodded at that statement, "Yes, the only friend you'll ever need."

His mask, although long forgotten, had finally cracked open.

You were his. Like a forbidden piece of art, it belonged to him. He was your painter, and as the painter, he declared you to be covered up. Only his retinas were allowed to peer at you.

It's your fault he went through all this effort to keep you safe. He's obligated as the painter to keep his art safe from dirty influences.

He's mildly disappointed in you whenever you speak to another man, but it's okay. It's his job after all to stalk the said man and hack his tongue off for even going to speak to you.

No matter how many guys he has to threaten, no matter how many people he's had to hack at, no matter how many people he's had to kidnap, it wasn't his fault.

It's yours.

All the blame is on his sweet, naive, poor, Y/N.

Still as innocent the day he found you at the playground.

"Still mine..." He mumbled as he stared at your sleeping face.

"Only mine."

Thanks for the ask!<3

[sunofpandora]

 V I R A G O                   

Chapter 5

Honey, you’re familiar.

Neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹i𝓼

»»———–➤»»———–➤»»———WARNINGS:

Mentions of dick sucking and eating pussy???? IT'S A JOKE GUYS I SWEAR JUST READ AND YOU'LL UNDERSTAND GIVE ME A CHANCE!! 

Anxiety/mentions of hunger/mentions of not eating/ heights/ sex jokes/murder jokes?? Neteyam has like, one dirty thought?

Synopsis:  Y/n and Lo’ak spend some time together at the lake, and return to the omatikaya to join the sullys for the communal clan meal. Jake and y/n have a heart to heart.

Extra characters:

Kyuna: Omaticaya clan member

Popiti: Omaticaya child, Tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary.

Authors note:

HI GUYS! Did you miss me?? It’s okay to say no 😭. I’m in such a good mood guys and you won’t believe why 😏 and because I am in such a good mood, I have decided to give you guys some fluffy  sully family feels before the next chapter, where neteyam and Y/n will start their training! As just a reminder, please remember to go back and read chapter 3 (all 3 parts if you can) bc I have a feeling that not a ton of people have.

VERY IMPORTANT!!

This chapter is what I call a direct chapter. This means that the events in this chapter are happening on the same day as the ones in chapter 4 (found on my masterlist.). Ik it’s been awhile so pls feel free to refresh your memory

»»———–➤»»———–➤»»———»»———–➤»»———–➤»»———»»———–➤»

 “Damn that thing is huge.”

“…”

“So big and juicy looking…”

“……”

“I can’t wait to have that thing inside of me…mmm….my mouth is just watering thinking about it.”

“Lo’ak. Shut the fuck up.”

Lo’ak cackled, shoving you playfully.

“C’mon sis you know I play around.”

You huffed, trying to keep up being unamused with his sexual innuendos. 

“Lo’ak it’s not funny.”

“Yes it is.”

You thwacked him with your tail, hissing at him lowly, making him shut up immediately.

“You know for someone who complained about neteyam moaning into a fruit, you talk a lot of shit.”

Lo’ak shrugged.

“Is it so wrong to admire a fruit for its nice curves??”

It was inevitable that Lo’ak would bother you like this while you tried to focus. It wasn’t anything new. And while you were practicing the art of perpetual kindness, the occasional sex joke from Lo’ak deserved a whack of your tail, did it not?

You huffed, dropping your shoulders and letting your stance slip. You had been out in the woods with Lo’ak for the last 2 hours. Just exploring and enjoying conversation and gossip as usual, your bow slung around your torso and a few arrows, sharpened and freshly fletched at the ready in case of trouble.

It wasn’t trouble you were trying to shoot right now, luckily. Your current target was the fresh bunch of fruits that glistened under the canopy’s kisses of sunlight leaking through the foliage.

Lo’ak shifted on his feet.

“I could just shimmy up there and cut them down at the stem.”

You rolled your eyes, fondly recalling how about 5 minutes ago he tried that and fell on his ass…7 times.

“No, Lo’ak. I don’t want you injured. We’re doing it my way now.”

You raised your arm again, placing your arrow against the string of your bow, carefully constructing your once slipping stance to its previous position.

You took a breath, widening yourself at the proper angle, the sweet sound of the stretch your bowstring was a gentle satisfaction. You felt your nose twitch as the fletching of the arrows brush your nostrils.

You can feel Lo’ak’s eyes on you. Tracing the way your muscles tensed and stretched, enamored by your skill. It seemed as if everyone was. 

To be honest, it would have felt weird if it was anyone else other than Lo’ak.

You finally released, watching the arrow fly up and into the tree, the sound of the vine snapping as the arrow pierced straight through the stem that hung the fruits by the bunch to the branch resonated through the moistened air.

The fruits fell with a thud, you let out a satisfied sigh.

“There we go.”

You hummed, handing Lo’ak your bow as you squatted to swing the fruits over your shoulder.

Lo’ak was quiet for a moment. Just staring at your weapon as you stood to your feet.

“What? What’s wrong?”

You queried, stepping over the few stones to stand with him.

He shrugged, a smile allowing itself to sink upon his features.

“Nothing. I just feel like I should be more formal. I’m in the presence of our clan’s mighty archer.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him as you started to walk down the path you came.

“Shut up.”

“No im serious. I should’ve done my hair or fixed up my outfit-“

“You’re not funny.”

“My mom says I’m funny.”

He puts his hands on his hips, chin high as if his existence was the height of humanity’s greatest accomplishments.

“Yourn mom also tells Tuk that babies come from flowers. So she’s extremely reliable, it seems.”

Lo’ak gasped frantically, dramatically tumbling over his steps and clutching his chest as if he’s entering cardiac arrest.

“You fiend of a woman! How dare you speak to me with such a tounge!?”

“Oh suck my dick Lo’ak.”

“Eat me out y/n!”

Lo’ak leaned against a tree, posing seductively. Spreading his legs and falling his hands around to gesture to his loins.

You covered your mouth and nose, gagging for effect. 

“Put it away Lo’ak, phew, I KNOW it stinks up in there.”

“It smells delectable.”

“Mo’at had a heart attack scare last time she washed your loincloth. I wouldn’t count on it.”

Lo’ak flipped you off.

You both couldn’t restrain yourselves from the ugly cackles that erupt from your throat.

Your laughter weaving floridly around the forest before soaking into the late afternoons sunrays. The sky blushed it’s shadowed hues into breathtaking. It was at this time when the sun settled its intensity and ceased staining the world with its harsh tones, when the night crept behind a curtain of clouds.

Lo’ak and you continued to wonder around, Lo’ak carrying the fruit in the woven satchel bag that hung by it’s strap over his shoulder, your hands remained free, feeling the diminutive weight of the bow on your back, reaching out every now and then to swing on a branch or hurl yourself over a log.

“So, question for you.”

Lo’ak started, throwing himself over a rock to land on the patch of moss.

“Uh huh.”

“If we were to go swimming right now, would we be late going back to high camp?”

You think for a moment.

“Not if we make it quick. Try not to lose your loincloth in the rapids again.”

You snickered, recalling the incident during a fishing trip that your fathers took you on when you were both 12,

Jogging off before he could pull your tail or pinch your ankle or grab your leg or something obnoxious

“For fucks sake, will you ever let that go!?”

A boisterous laugh leaves you as you doubled over against a tree.

“No. It’s so funny.”

“Shut the fuck up. Listen-“

“I’m listening!”

“No you’re not, you're laughing!”

Another cackle leaves you. You wave a hand around, as if to rid the air of your own facetiousness.

“Okay— okay. I’m done. I’m done laughing. I promise.”

The wheezing endnotes of your breathless words betray you, and another fit of laughter leaves you. Lo’ak joins, and your chest starts to ache with the amount of breath that presses through your fits of giggles.

Lo’ak swings an arm around your shoulder throwing you both of balance, as if your steps weren’t already unparalleled and uncoordinated.

“No because- how did you lose your fucking loincloth—“

You rasped, your eyes squeezing shut.

Sounds that you’re almost 89% sure resemble some animal dying leave you and Lo’ak in sync.

And all the shit you’ve been through the last few days seem to just melt away when you’re laughing with your best friend so hard you can’t breathe.

After a few minutes, the chorus of chortles and raspy sentences cease. 

“Oh eywa. You’re a fucking idiot.”

You sigh, shoving him lightly.

“So are you. We’re a package deal.”

He pushes you before sprinting towards the river.

“Lo’ak! Fuck— wait up.”

Lo’ak’s smile was different from Neteyam’s. Neteyam’s was full of warmth and sunlight. Saturn’s rings sulking in a lightning storm of gold gilded gardens. 

Lo’ak’s smile was made of healing boyish hearts and oddly shaped persuasion. Flames and rings of smoke that radiated its warmth beneath incandescent skin. Rattling notes of wooden beads clinking together and a fragile temperament.

He throws himself in the water with a running start, an accented yelp echoed like a final chord striking before a late curtain call of a sunset evening’s songs.

Your laugh is loud, it shakes your body as his head emerges from the water.

“Come on. Don’t be a wuss.”

You took a breath, diving in the water.

You felt your body slicing through the surface, the air around you revisions itself into a 

You enjoyed swimming. And you were actually really good at it. There was something about being in the water that was so soothing, sirenic sensations that seemed to lift the world into light.

Your vision consolidated, surrendering to the soft undercurrents that brushed along your skin.

You motioned your arms and legs forward, propelling yourself through the water. You swiftly raised your head above the water, feeling the surface break as you retreated for air.

As the film of aqua haze vanishes back to the thickened victorious viridescent shades  painted the jungle. The light leaked through the canopy, reigning a rutilant warm glow, burned by the late afternoon sun.

Lo’ak’s silhouette blackens, shadowed by the thick line of fire that forms itself into the shape of sunlight.

“You’re crazy good at that.”

“At what?”

“Swimming.”

 Your mother and father were traders.  

Well, really, your father was.

Your father’s family were the representatives for your clan while traveling and trading for years. 

His family had an almost nomadic lifestyle and spent much of their time away from hometree and the clan. The olo’eyktan of the clan at the time, Lo’ak’s grandfather, followed the tradition of leaders many years before him of entrusting your father’s family to be the ones to travel by ikran away from home in seasonal patterns to trade resources and gather new information to report and bring back to the clan. Its a system that has been in place for many years.

As a child, you occasionally traveled with your parents. Visiting the planes where the tipani resided, and even the beaches under the cliffs where the tayrangi dwelled. When you were little, you loved to swim in the oceans with the other tayrangi children. 

You shrugged. Rubbing the back of your neck, your braids strung loosely about behind you, some  some swaying across the surface of the water and other sinking against your back. 

“My parents took me when they traveled east a lot. Remember? I guess I’ve built up some swimming skills.”

Lo’ak nodded, glancing down at the water before flicking his gaze back towards you.

“Do you think you’ll do it?”

“Do what?”

“Travel. Like your parents did.”

You think for a moment. Letting the silence settle. There was a time, where you and Lo’ak were dumb and 12 years old would stay up past dark quietly sneaking around the clan to steal some snacks and climb the yovo fruit trees that surrounded your village, the one you lived in before high camp. You would whisper about your plans for the future. How one day, you both would pack up your ikran saddles and fly off to a far away land, explore and travel the uncharted territories of Pandora together, and return when the journey ended on your own terms.

“Maybe.”

You hummed, thinking of how possibilities place themselves into puzzle pieces so quickly with time.

He nods, paddling around.

“Remember when we were kids? And we always talked about running away? Convincing my dad to bring back our old trading systems? Just going wherever we wanted? No nagging, no worries, just a bullshit-free life.”

You splashed your face with some water, the refreshing coolness washes down your neck.

“Should we really leave the clan like that?”

Lo’ak snorted.

“Please. I think they’ll be fine. The trade needed to be brought back anyways. There are resources we could use and it’s good to strengthen our connections with the other clans and blah blah blah.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

He swam to you, his expression statued a seriousness that was almost unfamiliar to his usual demeanor. 

“But I want to be real for a moment. I don’t want to be stuck here forever. You hear what Norm and max say. Pandora is huge. It’s too big for us to just stay in the forest for the rest of our lives.”

You frowned, a heaviness blanketed your heart that you couldn't quite name.

“Your family will miss you.”

Lo’ak laughed, but it was thin and forced, almost bitter.

“No. I don’t think they would.”

You shook your head, knowing that wasn’t true.

“Lo’ak. They love you.”

“My siblings and you may love me. But I don’t think the great Toruk Makto always likes me.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe he does like you, and that hes just afraid of loosing you?? Because you are so much like him, so much of a mirror into his own youth, he knows the mistakes he made.”

Lo’ak was quiet for a moment. His voice was softer this time, this tell-tale of a familial tragedy that unconditionally refused to acknowledge one’s individuality. Where Jake and Lo’ak walked the thin line of being a mirror that refused reflection, a window that showed you what you prayed you would never see. History’s cruel rhyme schemes never surprised you. Not anymore. 

The hoarseness in his voice edged his tone, you could tell he was disassociating from the conversation.  

“That has nothing to do with me.”

“I think he’s still learning to make peace with that. You never really grow out of growing.”

Silence settled between you before it was shattered by the heavy sweep of water that crashes onto your face.

You cough up some of the water, slapping Lo’ak’s shoulder.

“What the fuck was that for?!”

“Stop being so fucking smart.”

He whined, dunking his head under water.

You rolled your eyes. Yanking him up by his forearm. 

“Lo’ak, I’m serious.”

He glared.

“And I’m not in the mood.”

“Your dad doesn’t hate you. He just-“

“I never said he hates me. I said he doesn’t like me. You don’t have to like someone in order to love them.”

“That’s not— Lo’ak I’m sure-“

“Y/n.”

That was your cue to close the curtain on that conversation. It pained you to know that Lo’ak thought like that. But you knew he would open up. Eventually.

Your mouth tapped shut. Your lips pressing into a thin line. 

He sighed, running his hands down his face roughly.

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to snap. Not at you. It’s just-“

“It’s okay, Lo. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

And of course, what kind of awkwardness couldn’t be avoided with a change of topic??

You swam next to him, splashing him playfully.

“I’ll tell you what. Let’s wait a few weeks, we’ll pull together something to present to jake. We can meet with him and discuss if he’ll let us travel and revive the trade.”

In all, it wasn’t a bad idea. Which was rare for Lo’ak. The least you could do was give him the opportunity. 

He smiled at you. And before you could say anything, he whooped wildly like a child, his elbow thrown around your neck, forcing you to wade abruptly closer.

“Aye! Y/n! I knew you could come around. We’re going to be such badass travelers.”

You chuckled, patting his back.

“As if I would say no to you.”

“If you did I might have to spit in your food.”

He announces proudly, floating on his back.

You gag.

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m distinguished.”

He corrects, reaching out his arms and moving them slowly in a paddle motion.

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹  ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ 

Water was forgiving. Maybe that’s why you felt so familiar with it.

You haven’t felt forgiven for a lot of things in your life. Not now, anyways.

Underwater was where the sun’s warmth didn’t feel so harsh. You never had trouble discerning the safety and the solitude of land. 

You took a breath before submerging yourself under the 

The vault of the sky caves around its azure dome as light bent and broadened across the surface, stretching the sunset into a  henotic harmony. 

You dived deeper. Your arms pushed you forward, like wings guiding a bird through the skies.

The opaque world of glass rests under the world. The shadows of the depths are drunken words spreading orisons that seem like obstinate Orphics. 

mazarine whispers, and cyan and cerulean sing. 

Your thoughts seem to retreat to the uninhibited corners of your mind as you remain nantant.

Nothing could reach you here.

Well, maybe Lo’ak’s bitchy screeching.

“Y/n! Dude! Come on!”

He yanks you out of the water, his arm uncomfortably clamped around your waist like a child trying to retrieve a toy by fishing it out of water blindly.

You sputtered out the water that rushed to your face with the unexpected motion, so lost in your haze of serenity you barely heard Lo’ak the first time.

You coughed, squirming as he threw you into the plush riverbank grass.

“Shit! Sorry!”

He patted- well more like slapped your back roughly to try and aid your recovery.

“Sorry, sorry. You just weren’t coming up for air. I called your name like 10 times.”

You whacked him with your tail, and he hissed and held the spot on his arm.

“I don’t like being manhandled.”

You rasped, clearing the water from your throat.

“Dude who the fuck cares! My dad will handle us into a ditch if we’re not back in time!” 

Shit.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ 

“Keep going!”

You yelled over your shoulder, scrambling over branches and through the brush. 

You jumped over a rock, slinging yourself up a step with a vine, looping around to check on Lo’ak, who was halfway seen sprinting to catch up with you.

“Shit! My bow-!”

“Don’t worry! I grabbed it back at the lake!”

He calls back to you.

“Just keep going!”

You nodded, nearly tripping as you sprang forward once again.

You raised two fingers to your lips, pressing air as the shriek of a whistle left you.

The flap of wings you heard wasn’t that far away.

You stopped at when you reached a cleaning, turning around to see Lo’ak skid to a stop.

Kailo landed infront of you both, you Quickly mounted him, throwing your bow in the holster on the side of the saddle.

“Hey buddy.”

Lo’ak cooed in a rushed manner, quickly giving him a few pats before hopping on behind you. You reached back, pulling him up. He wrapped an arm around your neck, hiking up his legs.

“Comfy?”

You asked, turning around to meet Lo’ak’s eyes. He was out of breath, chest heaving.

“Uh huh— SHIT.”

You took off before he could answer, gently digging your heels into the sides of the saddle, pulling the strapped reign as Kailo took off.

Lo’ak tightened his hold using his elbow around your neck, his upright headlock was no unfamiliarity whenever you gave him rides.

But this is Lo’ak we’re talking about. Of course he got comfortable quickly.

There was a comfort to flying with Lo’ak.

It made you feel like a little kid again. Carrying eachother around on your backs, playing games and doing stupid things for stupid reasons because there was a time where being stupid was fun and okay.

And maybe, with Lo’ak, being stupid wasn’t so bad.

You banked left, diving through the center of an arched mountain over the forest. Lo’ak cheered and whooped, throwing his hands up, before cursing and holding onto you again after realizing he almost lost his balance.

His palm roughly cupped your shoulder as he sat himself up a bit higher, looking out onto the world below.

You climb a lift of air before directing Kailo to drop, a straight dive down the waterfall. Once you leveled out again, you and Lo’ak both leaned to the side, letting your fingertips skim the surface of the lake below.

You were never carelesss or reckless with Kailo. He was one of the fastest ikran your clan had ever seen, plus he was larger than most average ikran. That was no excuse to go flying so fast you fling yourself off the saddle.

But occasionally, you let yourself go.

“Please please please go faster!”

Lo’ak yelled, his volume competing wit. The wind.

“What? No. Any faster and we’ll crash into something.”

“Please!?”

Eh, why not? He’s had a rough couple of days. So have you.

You dived down again, grinning as you joined Lo’ak in his wild bouts of yelling.

But the fun didn’t last forever. Ahead, high camp came into view.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ 

You could feel Lo’ak’s hand shaking slightly as you both touched down through the large entrance crevice of high camp.

“Dad’s gonna kill us.”

Lo’ak groaned, sliding off the saddle behind you, petting Kailo a few times.

“Just relax and let me do the talking.”

You shook your head, giving his shoulder a small squeeze.

“It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know everything.”

“Where the hell have you crotch stains been!?”

And you sure as hell knew who that voice belonged to.

Lo’ak jumped a bit, turning to see Jake barging himself towards you both.

“Fuck.”

Lo’ak muttered under his breath. So quietly he might not have said it all.

He hung his head, a few of his braids swinging over his shoulders, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, only glancing up once to look at you.

A few heads turned, some na’vi bearing witness to the spectacle of their olo’eyktan yelling at his kids.

And boy, he did not look happy.

Lo’ak puts both hands up, something you’ve noticed Neteyam do when Jake got heated like this. As if trying to calm a raging animal from attacking.

“Dad, I know this looks bad.”

“I would be concerned if you thought this didn’t ‘look bad’, Lo’ak.”

Jake bit back, his taller figure looming over his son.

Lo’ak bit his lip, his fingers twitch as his fingers dangle at his sides.

“You disobeyed me.”

The space between his brow wrinkles offensively.

“How did I disobey you?”

“I asked you, I asked ALL of your siblings this morning to let y/n rest and i found out you two go off on a joyride!?”

“Slow down Jake or you’ll have a heart attack.”

You sigh, stepping forward until your gaze is paralleled with his.

Lo’ak snorts, but he quickly masks his amusement as Jake sends him a glare, then he sends you one.

“You and I will talk later, I can only deal with one delinquent at a time.”

He waves you away.

“No, since you have enough to dish out for Lo’ak here, i’m sure there;s plenty for us to share.”

You felt like a teenager edged with attitude, especially when you loved and respected Jake so much. But seeing Lo’ak get wrung out all the time was exhausting. 

“Jake this wasn’t Lo’ak’s fault.”

Lo’aks shaking fingers stilled, the ghost your side, gesturing to you that you didn’t have t0 take this for him.

“I’m the one that suggested we go for a ride. We took kailo and went to the lake for a few hours. Cleared my head. Did some meditating just like you suggested.”

You nudge him playfully, but the man didn;t look amused. Conflicted was probably the right word.

“Either way, I said he was to stay away from you for at least a day.”

“Jake, he doesn;t run up my blood pressure like he does yours. He’s fine. No one was hurt. Nothing happened, and Lo’ak didn’t want me to go alone.”

You Lo’ak a look, commionucating silently with your eyes.

Dude. say something.

Lo’ak nods, fishing himself out of a daze.

“R-right. Yes. right, we just went to the lake, dad.”

Jake sighed, rubbing his fingers to his temple, attempting to soothe the brewing headache, virtue to the usual shenanigans Lo’ak and you could never seem to shake.’

“Guys, i really don’t think that-”

“Wait! The only reason we stayed longer is because Lo’ak wanted to grab these.”

You grabbed the satchel that rested on Lo’aks hip, opening the woven flap to display the fruits you gathered earlier.

You gently thwacked lo’ak with your tail, and he immeditaaly caught the jist.

“I know theyre mom’s favorites.”

Lo’ak batted his eyes while you gave jake a sickeningly sweet smile.

He groaned, turning away.

“Out of my sight. Both of you. Now.”

“Okay thanks! Love you dad!!”

You and Lo’ak sprinted across the camp, submerged in your own laughter. You scurried mo’at;s tent, shutting the flap when he turned to you.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Eywa wouldn't let us face battles if she knew we were going to do it alone.” 

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊

Neteyam’s pov, the sullys tent:

My mother hates crowds. It’s not something I’ve inherited. 

You can tell by the way she shrinks behind my father or grandmother when we have clan gatherings. The way she resorts to fidgeting with her songchord or holding Tuk’s hand to distract herself from the ocean of eyes that are standing in front of her.

Tonight the clan eats communally. We do it every once in a while. My grandmother told me that the people did it every night before hometree was destroyed, but as time faded, so did our habits, I suppose.

Maybe thats why tonight, as my family prepares to leave for communal meal, the air is uneasy and tense.

Kiri and I had been home almost all day, watching Tuk while my grandmother rested and my mother attended to her duties around high camp.

It feels empty without my father, Lo’ak, and y/n.

My mothers voice pulls my attention.

“Neteyam, go wake your grandmother.”

She kneeled down in the corner, tending to Tuk, trying to pick the leaves out of her hair.

“Uh huh. Give me a second.”

I set the freshly washed bowls I just finished scrubbing down in the pile where we left all our dishes. 

I turned to see my grandmother, currently 18ft deep in her beyond-afternoon nap. 

I sighed, stretching my arms behind my back, locking my fingers together to soothe the tightness in my muscles as I walk my way over to her.

“Grandmother.”

I tap her shoulder, her snores blaring lowly.

I sigh. Waking up my grandmother was usually a two man job.

“Grandmother? Grandmother???”

She stirs, but doesn’t wake.

I poke her shoulder lightly with my fingers.

She gasps awake, flinging her arm at my face, I step back, flinching at the action.

She sits up, squinting at me before her gaze softens.

“Neteyam, I’m sorry. I thought you were your father.”

“So you were planning to smack my father?”

“That’s beyond the point. I had the most wonderful dream.”

She reminisced dreamily.

I shifted on my feet awkwardly.

“That’s wonderful, grandmother. But I woke you because-“

“Quiet boy. I’m speaking.”

Great. Just what I was aiming to avoid.

I straighten, a rough breath falling from my lips. Settling in for the haul of whatever was to come.

“Apologies, Tsahik. You were saying?”

“Well.”

She begins.

“It was many years ago…when your mother told me she was with child.”

“Uh huh.”

“And then once she started, eywa she just wouldn’t stop..one child after another..”

I catch my mother glaring out of the corner of my eye.

“Neteyam, I think your grandmother can get up on her own.”

She hisses.

Grandmother waves her off.

“Don’t listen to her, boy. Go fetch my cane.”

My mother throws her arms up to express exaggeration.

“You don’t need a cane, Sa’nok.”

I stand warily between the two of them.

“And you don’t need to be sneaking off with your husband every few nights.”

My grandmother shoots back.

Maybe there was a reason for my father’s constant headaches.

It’s kiri’s voice that grasps my attention. I turn to see her enter the Marui with a half-weaved basket in her hands.

“Neteyam, while the golden girls are fighting, you might wanna take the time to worry about yourself.”

I shake my head, protesting gently. Something keeping me tied to multitasking bites at the back of my mind.

“No, I got it.”

She gives me a look, setting the basket-in-progress down and crossing her arms.

“Neteyam, you have been chasing Tuk around all day, helping mother clean, and as much as I know you enjoy being serenaded by grandmothers snoring, you need a break.”

“Kiri, really I'm fine.”

“I wasn’t asking. Go.”

Arguing with Kiri was useless. There was no competing with full-bodied ambition when ignited. 

I surrender. Retreating behind the curtain of the divider between the two areas of my family’s home.

I busy myself with personal tasks. Sharpening my knife, rummaging through lo’ak’s hammock to retrieve the armbands I know for a fact he's stolen from me. Again.

About 1o minutes had passed. I had found 8 armbands when I heard the familiar voice of my father as he entered the tent.

I slip under the divider sheet to see him. He alternates looks between Lo’ak and Y/n as they shuffle inside.

“Ma’jake.”

My mother sighs in relief, as if my father is the shower of fresh rain after a drought.  She holds Tuk on her hip as she squirms and giggles.

“Where have you been? There is much that needs to be done.”

My father pauses as he takes in each dilemma. 

Kiri and Grandmother arguing in the corner.

My mother is holding an overly-hyper tuk.

Lo’ak and Y/n laughing for whatever reason.

And me. Peeking out from behind the sheet.

“I can see that.”

He affirms, reaching out to take tuk off my mother’s hands.

running his hand down her back in soothing circles, trying to get both of them to calm down.

My father knows my mother is full of love. He also knows when not enough of that love is kept for herself.

Lo’ak stares at our parents, his expression of mild disgust.

“Do you two want a moment alone?”

A laugh follows, my eyes ascertaining to its source.

Her. Oh it’s her. 

Oh. 

It’s her.

She stands behind Lo’ak, a lean azure frame. Droplets gleam and scintillate as they slide down her skin. Her bangles and bracelets shine under the fractured light. I try so hard not to stare. I try to focus on anything. Anything at all. Anything that won’t make me feel like I’m staring at a woman who’s wet and shiny like some kind of pervert. 

Fuck. That sounded like I was describing a river rock or something.

‘wEt aNd sHiNy.’ 19 years old, future Olo’eyktan of your clan  and you can’t even talk. I feel like the ground envelops me in quicksand, my lungs famine for air. Eywa, she was pretty.

‘Pretty’ feels like a disparagement. Makes me feel inarticulate for lacking a better word. Beautiful. Stunning. Hot? Is hot weird? She is hot. Is that weird? Am I weird?

If there is another word. I’ll find it

Her braids cascade down her back, a crown of curls and waves Unwinding at the where the braids end, the curls I sometimes imagine spilling through my fingers while I capture sweet sounds that fall from her lips.

Am I weird for this? 

My father speaks, yanking me out of my haze.

“Baby, I can always call off the clan gathering if you’re not feeling a crowd tonight.”

He adjusts Tuk on his hip, picking a leaf out of her hair.

My mother shakes her head.

“No. I’m alright. There is just much to be done before we leave…”

My dad nods graciously, placing Tuk back to her feet again.

“Say no more. We’ll get everyone outta here in one piece.”

“Were you planning on us leaving disembodied?”

Kiri asks, her tone welcoming sarcasm in its arms.

Lo’ak chimes in.

“Can I swap out my loincloth real quick? I hate having the wet weaving slapping against me every time I walk.”

“Then why would you get wet?”

Kiri asks, rather harshly.

“Why do you cut your hair like that knowing your forehead is too big?”

“It astounds me how every day you talk about my forehead. Did you know they almost had to cut mom open because your head was so abnormally enormous??”

Lo’ak looks at my mom with incredulous eyes. 

“Ma she’s lying. Right?”

My mom evades any squander of the moment as she turns to duck under the divider flap to where  my parents slept.

“Ma’Jake, I’m going to change my top before we leave.”

Lo’ak falls to his knees, a dramatic anguished groan leaves him.

“Oh shit. I’m a freak. I’m a freak with a huge head.”

“You’re not a freak. You just have your fathers genes. I’m sure Jake was unusually large as well.” y/n comforts him, gesturing to my father.

“The hell I wasn’t.” My dad pipes up, trying to wrestle Tuk into sitting still.

Kiri shrugs, leaning against the wooden pillar to the side of the sheet as she fidgets with one of Y/n’s braids, standing behind her.

“I think we should banish Lo’ak for the attempted murder of the Tsahik daughter.”

I snicker, nudging Kiri 

“Mother would have joined eywa doing what she loved. Screaming at father.”

She laughed, tossing her head back.

Lo’ak’s jaw drops, he tries to speak but only a string of syllables come out.

“That’s not fucking fair.”

My dad glares at all three of us.

“Watch your mouth boy. And what did I say about plotting murder during dinner.”

Y/n blinks, tilting her head.

“We aren’t eating dinner.”

“I don’t give a damn-!

Okay, you know what? New rule. No discussing murder. Period.”

Kiri clicks her tongue, the usual gleam flickering across her irises.

“Can we discuss manslaughter?”

The sentence teases its own tone.

She places her palms against one another in a paring position before pointing them outwards towards my father.

Y/n mimics her.

“If we can’t discuss it can we at least plan one? Me and Kiri have already worked out a date and time.”

“And we have a target.”

Kiri adds, nodding confidently.

“For the love of god, I will put all of you on time out. And your grandmother can join you.”

My father threatens. Glaring at all of us.

Grandmother speaks as she slowly arises from her sitting spot on the floor, Lo’ak assisting her by holding her arm.

“Good. That will give me and the children time to plot against you.”

She speaks matter-of-factly.

I laugh, watching Tuk’s big eyes travel between my father and the rest of us as she tries to keep up with the conversation.

We all turn to see my mother as her figure is guided back through the divider, a new top now covering her chest.

It had flowers on it, delicately placed in a pattern over her breasts. Vines braided over her shoulders to hold the garment in place.

My fathers eyes take the shape of stars as he sees her, the sun setting outside and him both share a flicker of breath as she moves toward us.

“Are we ready?”

She asks, placing some of her braids behind her shoulder.

My father whistles, a hand coming up to cover the grin that etched its way onto his face.

“Goddamn. You look..”

“Like a pretty flower!”

Tuk chirps, clapping excitedly as she runs to my mother, hugging her waist.

“I was gonna say gorgeous, but yeah. That works too.”

Gorgeous. That’s the word I was looking for.

She giggles as she strides her way over to him, He takes a step behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist, another hand tracing circles in her hip.

“Y/n made this one.”

She murmurs, speaking quietly for my father.

“Do you like it?”

“Kids’ got taste. It’s stunning. Do a spin for me.”

My dad nods approvingly, Y/n feigns cockiness, posing and swaying her hips.

“Of course I have taste. The best there is, no doubt.”

Out of all of the fabrics, all the leaves and flowers and materials on the planet, I think her smile always looks the most stunning.

“You know who else has taste?”

My father whispers, clearly not quiet enough, the endnotes a purr.

My mother gasps, it twirls into a chuckle.

“Ma’Jake, the children are watching.”

“Kids, look away!”

My dad demands, kissing my mothers cheek as she squirms in his arms.

“Oh I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Kiri gags, clearly not fawning over my parents' affections the way y/n or tuk is.

My grandmother wedges herself between my parents, poking my fathers chest.

“Enough of this. It is time to depart. Before you both go and make another child I will have to deal with it.”

That was my fathers cue as he sighs dramatically, scooping up a squirming Tuk and twirling her around like a princess.

“Alright family let’s get going. Roll tide.”

“Roll tide!”

Tuk mimics my fathers lingo as we exit the tent, single file. 

Tuk scurries infront of me. Hopping vigorously to squeeze her way in between my parents as they walk ahead of us. 

Lo’ak and Kiri take turns bickering with grandmother, keeping their paces ahead of me.

I saunter off behind them. The cool air and dwindling distant conversations plexure in the atmosphere. Families talking, children laughing, all coalesce into a chorus that ceases its journey where the darkening night sky ends.

I turn as I feel a tap on my shoulder,

Big, doe-like gold eyes invade my gaze. Those eyes are my vice. My biggest sorrow and my greatest gift.

The auric hues captivate me. The gleam so picturesque the shadows run for shelter. 

She’s still wet from the river. The shine from the droplets define her features, tracing every curve, clinging to every dip.

I feel ensnared in her equivalent of hypnosis. The expanse of her throat, the coves of her eyelids, every inch of her has me infatuated.

She doesn’t look like she belongs here. Her features lack those of a mortal being in regularity. A deity you’d sacrifice yourself for in the form of a disguise.

“Oh— you.”

Oh wow. That must make women swoon. ‘Oh. You.’ Might as well have said ‘ew. It’s you.’

Pull yourself together!

She recoils, its so slight you might not have noticed it at all.

She’s nervous. 

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to check up on you.”

Her steps find competence as they match my own. Her fingers lock together as she strides with them behind her back.

I awkwardly shuffle to keep pace with her.

“Oh, no. Please don’t apologize.”

I wave my hands stupidly, as if she’s hard of hearing and needs to have everything signaled. 

I clear my throat, clearing the hoarseness. Letting a silence settle before I realize what she’s said.

“You..wanted to check on me?”

She nods, her eyes meeting mine for a 

moment. She’s only a few inches shorter than me. It always reminds me of how she teased me when we were kids, saying I’d never catch up to her height. 

“Yeah. Well, I mean, I just…Lo’ak told me you were acting a little…off? This morning?”

Oh. You mean where you consumed every single one of my waking thoughts? This morning where I woke up still imaging you hugging me? This morning? Where I woke up stunned, paralyzed, drunken in enamorment of how on eywa’s green ground you could possibly be real when you have beauty of such extravagance?

“I have no idea what you speak of.”

I shrug,  crossing my arms over my chest.

She’s skeptical.

“Oh. I see.”

“Yup. Nothing wrong.”

“So, you weren’t moaning into a a fruit this morning?”

A who-was-moaning-into-a what?

“What are you talking about?”

She laughs, shaking her head.

“I just heard from a friend, that you were…excited for breakfast.”

Oh, the joy of having siblings.

I groan.

“No, that was a misunderstanding.”

She nods, trying to regain seriousness.

“Of course..I figured it was.”

Her cheeks puff slightly, harboring laughter.

I would probably be annoyed if it was anyone but her. and if her laugh wasn’t my favorite sound.

“Okay, you know what? It was early, I was tired-“

“Oh please. I’ve known you since you could walk. You’ve always been a morning person.”

I scoff, trying to pretend she wasn’t right.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Neteyam, I’m going to be your teacher soon. You should confide in me,”

Her arm accidentally brushes mine as we walk.

“So I should know if there’s something between you and that fruit that might interfere with your focus.”

I sigh, shaking my head, my tail gently swishing behind me.

“Say it with me now. Okay? 1..2..3…you’ve been spending too much time with Lo’ak.”

She chortles, recoiling at the sound.

I doesn’t phase me.

Not one bit.

“It’s the other way around.”

She argues.

“I can’t disagree. Last week I caught him wearing one of your armbands..”

“The one your father gifted me after completing my rites of passage?”

“Amber stones, arrowed weaving?”

She snaps her fingers.

“That’s the one! The bastard. I’ve been searching for weeks.”

I chuckle, catching a glimpse of her profile at the side of my gaze.

“I don’t blame him, you know.”

My voice carried a sincereness that seemed out of place with the conversation.

She looks at me, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“For looking up to you.”

She scoffs.

“Neteyam-“

“No. I’m serious.”

And as much as I regret cutting her off, the way she said my name, so tired, as if it was worn.

“You are one of the strongest warriors this clan has ever seen. I know that for a fact. I hear the way my parents speak of you. The way the people look at you, the way the children braid their hair to look like you. Everyone loves and admires you. I know for a fact I lov-“

She slows for a millisecond. That’s all it took to correct myself. Her steps only broke its pace as consciousness calculated on the ledge of what i knew so well I almost said.

“I love admiring you. I hope you know that.”

She shifts slightly, her fingers fidgeting with one another instead of being held behind her. I can tell my words are an impudent invasion that scratch and claw at the walls she’s built.

“You don’t have to say things like that.”

All I can do is smile.

“I wasn’t born with jesters privilege, I’m only saying what I know. I’m not glorifying you.”

And suddenly, i forgot the concept of boundaries.

I blame the aureate iridescence in the paradox of her irises. 

“You just don’t give yourself enough credit.”

She looks at me, confusion capturing her.

“What are you talking about?”

I shrug.

“You’ve saved lives. Protected our clan. Defended us against the sky people. What more can you ask of yourself?”

She stops walking this time. Her eyes staring straight ahead of us. 

Her head turns slowly to stare at me. It’s not a look of offense, or fear.

My hand reaches for her back, my palm placed against the small of it.

“It’s just something to think about.”

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹  ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹  ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎

Y/n’s pov 

You stare at him as if he's shown you colors for the first time. Epiphanies impulse under your skin, their unwelcomed and you’re unprepared.

As you approach the large area where other clan members have already sat down with their families, sharing food and laughter, you find yourself wandering astray.

“Give yourself more credit.”

Credit for what? What did you do to deserve praise?

Protected others? It wasn’t a task. It was second nature. If you didn't, what else would they ate from you?

What were you if not the sword and shield? What would you become the day the war ended?

There was no credit to be given. There was nothing to be given because there was nothing left. Because you refuse to repeat your mistakes. To suffer at another’s hand, to suffocate under the wreckage of what was built only to be torn down. Cankered, tattered, stained fingers clutching at the flesh that stretched across your bones, bruises worn like badges of honor. 

You were afraid. So afraid of being sheltered and delicate. Being blinded and impetuous. 

“Y/n. Come sit with me.”

You feel an arm link with yours, and you catch Kiri at your side.

The stray braids that hung by her neck like vines from a canopy of verdant haven swung while she walked. She guides you out of your solivangant sondering.

Her gestures were laconic. Her eyes marbled over with a generous concern as she whisked you away, grabbing a wooden bowl for herself and one for you as well where they were being distributed.

“Are you alright, dear? You’re zoning out a ton.” She whispers, placing a hand on your back.

You shake every former thought from your head, washing your mind clean.

“No, it is nothing. It’s foolish.”

“It’s not foolish if it’s bothering you.”

She corrects, looking down as she gathers some meat onto her plate from the communal fire.

You shift on your feet, eyes trailing her movements.

“I’m fine. I just..suppose i haven’t eaten enough today. Its making me spacey and slow.”

She nods slowly, her tail lightly swishing behind her.

“Well then, take this plate.”

She hands you the plate she had just finished filling with roasted sturmbeast, and squares of yovo fruit.

You shake your head graciously, handing it back yo her mindlessly.

“Oh Kiri no– no this was yours.”

She scoffs, waving you off.

“I'm more than capable of making myself a new plate.”

She smiles at you, and the familiarity of it is a comfort. 

The frail dark bangs that wisped lightly above her eyebrows sweep subtly in the night breeze, the weightless braids that hang on the sides of her head swing softly, you reach your hands out and tuck a strand behind her ear, your fingertips grazing the subtle honey-oak streaks, a delicacy in your touch as if you were handling something a fragile as a flower petal.

“You’re so good to me.” Your tone was beatific, gentle.

She smiles smugly, dragging her fingers across where your collarbones rose and fell upon each drawn breath before handing you the plate once again.

“I’m keeping you alive and fed.”

Lo’ak peaks himself from behind kiri, his tail swishing.

“Kiri can you make my plate next?”

Her smile drops.

“No. Make your own damn plate.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing another wooden piece to start piling with food for herself.

Lo’ak gawks, offended.

“You made Y/n’s no problem!”

“That’s because I like y/n. I tolerate you.”

You laugh as Kiri links her arm with yours, whisking you away to the large dwelling in the center of highcamp.

A large fire with meat cooking over it, and families scattered into their little circles and sat around the ground, people weaving in and out to reach their group.

Some families wave to you, calling out thanks as you walked, because it was you who had hunted the sturmbeest with neteyam they were eating now.

Kiri and you found a seat next to Mo’at. Neytiri, Lo’ak, Tuk, Neteyam, and Jake had not returned yet, so you 3 waited.

“Did you girls get everything you need?”

Mo’at asks, resting her hand atop her knee.

You nodded, taking a seat.

“Yes ma’tsahik. We did.”

There was an unspoken formality between you and Mo’at. Despite her knowing you since you were born. An implicit etiquette that’s been emplaced in you ever since childhood.

She reaches out for your arms, her nails scarcely printing tiny marks on your palm as she inspects your wrist and hand.

“Your cuts are healing.” She informs you, somehow knowing even though your incises from the day before are not visible anymore.

You figured the cuts you got from spider's mask would heal relatively quickly. However, the memories of the accident would leave a different kind of scar. 

You gently placed your hand back in your lap, your gaze only flicking away from Mo’at to see Tuk skipping towards your small sitting area with a bowl in her hand.

“The lake water might have sped up the process. It’s not bothering me, though. Just another couple cuts to add to my collection.”

Kiri giggles, nudging your arm.

“Another paint stroke to complete the masterpiece. Maybe we should hang you up next to tuk’s artwork.”

You snicker, making room for the smaller na’vi in question as she scurries to your side, snuggling herself in place next to you on the log.

“Healing cannot be rushed, child. Scars are more than just victories. It’s time you know that.”

Tuk gasps just as Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Neytiri find their places in the circle. 

She peers her head over your shoulder, looking down at your palm.

“It’s gonna be a scar??”

She blinked up at you with those big, disquieted, doleful eyes. She concernedly fumbled with your fingers, and you have to quickly gather her bowl into your lap with your other hand before it tips off her own with all of her movement.

“Oh no Tuk. I’m okay, love.” You kissed the top of her head, smiling at the way her nose twitched when you did.

“Do you want a kiss? To make it better.”

“Awh, sure. Thank you.”

She presses her lips to your bandaged palm.

“Mwah! All better.”  her sweet and stagey movements make you melt, proudly admiring her work.

“Thank you, Tuk-tuk.”

“Mhm.”

She sits back down, and you hand over her bowl.

She starts to eat, carefully picking the seeds out of her fruit slices.

“Are scars good or bad?”

She muffles through a mouthfull of juices.

Jake shrugs, leaning over to wipe the corners of her mouth with his thumb.

“Depends who you ask.”

Neytiri nods, her hand pressed to her chest briefly as she swallowed her bite before speaking.

‘Your father is correct. Scars are pieces of our memories. We carry them with us.”

���Nothing to be ashamed of, either. Back where i come from we wear our scars like badges of honor.”

Jake chimes in, setting his elbow on his knee, his back stretching forward.

Mo’at scoffed.

“Don’t listen to your father, children.”

Waving him off, she took a sip from her herbal tea. 

Jake frowned, wincing as if he were in a cramping-kinda pain.

“Oh, I think I just got a new one.”

“A what?”

Neytiri inquires, concerned, confused, placing a hand on her husbands back.

“A new scar?”

“From what?”

“My mother in law..agh, how she wounds me.”

Neytiri hisses, a smile breaking from her and my fathers lips. 

Mo’at is unamused.

Jake shakes his head as his laughter dies out.

“Come on, I mean, it’s symbolic.”

“Symbolic of what? Stupidity?”

Mo’at chuckled.

“Of bravery. Strength. Survival.”

Jake defies the Tsahik gently.

“Scars are cool.”

Lo’ak agrees half-mindedly, munching and speaking with a full mouth in a similar manner to Tuk.

“Look at y/n. Her scars are badass as fuck.”

You kept your head down. Stuck between accepting it as a compliment or perceiving it as pernicious.

“Lo’ak, we do not speak of others bodies.”

Neytiri sterns.

“Right, and how many times have i told you to watch that mouth.” 

Jake rebuked Lo’ak’s word choice rigorously, pinching the back of his neck lightly.

Lo’ak shrunk away from his touch, receiving it with nothing much than a scrunch of his face before continuing.

“Scars are like ways of saying ‘I got through it’. You know? I mean, I’d rather have a scar than the other alternatives.”

Neytiri opened her legs the slightest bit, propping up one crossed as she displayed the inner of her thigh. With delicate fingers, she traced over a darkened discoloration, a jagged scar that dragged across the surface.

“This scar appeared shortly after giving birth to Tuktirey.”

She explained, her tone soothing and benign. 

You leaned forward, getting a closer glimpse at it.

Tuk pouted, guilt striking her expression.

“I did that? I’m sorry.”

You gently drew her closer to your side, a small laugh that was horribly compressed left you.

“No, Tuk. You didn’t do it. Some mothers get them after having babies. It’s normal.”

You explained.

Neytiri nodded, smiling graciously at you for explaining so gently.

“That’s right. And it has been with me ever since that day. It’s a symbol. Like your father says. Celebrating the day of arrival for a gift in my life.”

She gently runs her slender fingers down Tuk’s cheek in an affectionate stroke, Tuk giggles at the sensation.

Jake took a swig from his cup.

“Hell, if that’s not strength, I don’t know what is. I know I sure as hell couldn’t do it.”

“Ew dad. We know. We know how the male body works.”

Kiri retorted, appalled.

“I’m surprised mom doesn’t have a scar from giving birth to Lo’ak and his big head.”

Neteyam mumbles into his cup, clearly not quietly enough.

A laugh was shared around the circle, even Neteyam shaking with chuckles as his head hung low for the moment.

Tuk looked at you, big eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“You have scars. Do you like them??”

The circle became silent for a moment.

“Tuk!”

Neytiri and Jake both hissed in unison, their tone hesitant, scold-like.

“Tuk, we don’t ask such things.”

Neteyam, always the 3rd parent, corrects softly.

Tuk glances back at you, the sully’s eyes tracking her gaze.

You shook your head, clearing your throat of the hoarsness.

“No, no. Its alright. I mean, we were talking about it, right? No harm in asking.”

You turned to tuk, your eyes softening at the sight of her.

“Most of them, yes. They are symbols, like your father says. Scars are like..stories. Every single one has a place of origin, epitomes of remaining unbroken.”

“I like this one.”

Tuk points to the scar on your shoulder, the zig-zag imprint that dragged across the plate of your acromion almost resembling lightning.

You smiled, letting her trace her smaller fingers over it.

“So do i.”

You whisper.

Neytiri smiles at the both of you. Her gaze holds its tender warmth, radiating its warmth like a sun ray washing your soul.

“My beautiful girls.” She coos, reaching out to kiss Tuk’s head and Tuk a braid behind your ear.

She turns to Kiri, side-gazing at Lo’ak and Neteyam.

“All of you are beautiful. No matter how many scars you have, you are all so much more than what lies on your skin.”

“We’re not beautiful Neteyam and I are stoic, unfeeling, we don’t have time for that.”

Lo’ak affirms, proudly slinging an arm around Neteyam, making him lurch to the side awkwardly, a couple of fruit slices roll off his plate due to the action.

“Lo’ak, my food.” Neteyam swats Lo’ak away.

Neytiri pouts, “No, both of my sons are beautiful.”

She grabs Neteyam’s face, peppering it with kisses before she does the same to Lo’ak.

Lo’ak groans, floundering in her hold.

“Ma, come on..stop..Okay, okay, stop. I’m not beautiful, I’m handsome.”

Neytiri taps his nose with her finger. “You’re both.”

 She giggles.

“You’re neither, you hell-raiser.”

Kiri hisses blatantly.

The air remained unscathed of burden as laughter simmered in the air, you found nepenthe with the Sully family, making the night seem so endless it could stretch into the stratosphere. 

»»———–➤𖤓☽꩜———–➤𖤓☽꩜———𖤓☽꩜———–➤»»———–𖤓☽꩜———»

You laughed as you spun Tuk around by her arms, the meaningless balter keeping her entertained her laughter.

“Again! Again!”

She laughs, jumping up and down, reaching up to be spun around again.

You smile, grabbing her arms.

“Okay, okay- ready? 1…2..3..”

Supporting her tightly by her forearms, you swing her around as her squeals of laughter flood your ears.

“Y/n, you up for a quick flight?”

It was Jake’s voice that beckoned your attention. You turned away from playing with tuk to see him gathering the wooden bowls in his arms to haul back to the sully’s tent.

“Right now?”

He nods, shifting the pile in his arms. “Yeah. I mean, do you have something planned?”

You can’t remember the last time Jake Sully willingly encouraged anyone in his family to go on ikran out after dark since the return of the Rda unless it was him and Neytiri for the occasional date night.

You turn to Neytiri,  who only gives Jake a pensive look.

“Will you be out late?”

He shakes his head.

“Of course not, baby. Just taking Y/n out for a little nighttime crusade.”

Neytiri nods, slowly and pensively as she hands the bowls in her hands over to Neteyam.

There’s a stretch of quiet that spreads through the air. High camp was settling down for the evening. Families gathering up their food and families and eating ware and retreating back to their tents and huts for rest. It was unusual to be out past that tim unless Jake had arranged a patrol group.

“Where are you guys even going this late?” Lo’ak queries intrepidly.  

Jake shrugs, starting to walk behind Mo’at, who held hands with Tuk and walked alongside Kiri back towards the sully’s tent.

“Just got something’s to discuss.”

Jake’s answers are succinct and ambiguous.

Neteyam rears himself closer to Jake, his steps carefully matching pace with his father as he carted the woven sack of sitting mats under his arm.

“Will you be discussing the next raid? I can accompany you both if needed, father.”

He glances at you preventively, as if desiring to shape himself into a shield around you.

Jake causally declined his offer, patting his shoulder supportively.

“I think we’re good for tonight, son. You can rest easy.”

Neteyam nods, but you can tell he’s chastened. Jake always kept Lo’ak and Neteyam in this constant cage that clipped their wings, keeping them away from the fighting.

But something tells you this wasn’t about raid planning, or even the war.

Jake hands the pile in his arms off to Kiri, who mumbles under her breath as she tries to catch up with Mo’at. He turns to you, “Y/n, why don’t you run along and gear up Kailo. I’ll meet you at the crevice in a few minutes.”

Before you could answer, Neytiri appears behind him, her eyes softening soothingly, her gaze condemning with concern.

“Please be safe. Both of you.”

She whispered, placing a hand on your cheek and reaching up to kiss Jake’s shoulder.

“Baby, nothing will happen to her or me as long as I’m there.”

Neytiri doesn’t seem consoled.

“Y/n, please keep an eye on him.”

She sighs.

You chuckle, letting her kiss your hairline.

“I promise.”

She cracks a small smile, Jake reaches for her palm. Ghosting her fingertips across her lip, kissing the heel of her palm.

As if committing the feel of her skin to memory, even if he’s not away from her for long.

“Don’t worry I’ll be back before you know it.”

He winks at her, his eyes drifting to the cinch of her waist.

“Ew gross.”

You recoil, scrunching up your nose at Jake.

He rolls his eyes, waving you off.

“Go. Get your ikran ready. I’ll be there in a bit.”

You nod, jogging off to the rookery where your clans ikrans resided.

The air tonight was warm. Undertones of a glass remnants and tattered clouds. You were halfway to the crevice, quieting yourself with your inner thoughts, when you paused at the call of your name.

“Y/n!”

A juvenile voice echoes behind you. High pitched and distinct.

You turn around, and a small Na’vi child comes into view. She has yellow feathers in her hair. A woven grass top and braids that reached her shoulder blades. 

Popiti. She was one of your students. She was apart of the group of children Makeyo and you taught archery lessons.

“Popiti! What are you doing here, evi’? (Child, affectionate.)

She scampered to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, smiling wide.

“She wanted to come say thank you.”

Another voice gathered your attention.

A taller Na’vi slowly sweeps her way out of the shadows. Tall. Feminine. Her steps were rushed. They lacked gracefulness. Her confidence was pure forgery, wearing a mask made of fool's gold and a fetish for mystique.

“Kyuna.”

You greeted, your face rather neutral.

Kyuna was only older than you by a year. Regardless of your age, you always surpassed her in most aspects.

Hunting?

She could never finish a hunt. Meanwhile you were dragging home freshly arrows skin-deep in a yerik.

Status?

Everyone is valued in your clan. That was a known fact. But it was you who was named the Olo’eyktan a strongest warrior.

You were stronger. Faster. Smarter. 

It made you feel a bit guilty, how often so many didn’t make any effort to make your transcendence discreet. 

She smiled at you. It was thin. Fake. Feigning any ounce of genuine decency.

“Popiti here wanted to thank you for y tonight’s meal. It was you who hunted the sturmbeast, right?”

You nodded, still stroking the top of Popiti’s head affectionately

“Yes. I was. It was my pleasure, Popiti.”

You smiled graciously down at the little girl who beamed up at you as if you were everything she ever wanted to become.

“When I get big, I’m going to be a warrior just like you. I’m gonna have a beautiful bow, with carvings and beads just like yours! And I’m gonna have-“

Your heart melts a bit as she rambles on, every word idolizing you.

A sudden hand on her head cuts her off. Kyuna pulls her closer in the opposite direction. Her ability to endure the nicety’s hanging by a thread. 

“Popiti, why don’t you run along home.”

Her smile pathetically conceals the bite in her tone.

“But I don’t know how-“

“Now.”

With a small, sad wave, the smaller Na’vi huffs and stomps away.

You tilt your head back up to Kyuna.

When your eyes met hers, you can tell she’s frustrated just by the mere sight of you.

You cleared your throat, trying to rid the awkward intermission from the air.

“It was nice of her to thank me in person. She’s a good kid.”

Kyuna’s arms remained crossed, her gaze distant, occupied with other things

“Mhm. I’m surprised you had time to see her, after all, you’re always busy with the Olo’eyktan or..or those Sully boys.”

Lo’ak and Neteyam were both men but whatever.

She clicks her tongue, raking your figure up and down.

You forced a laugh.

“Well, I am living with them after all.”

“And sleeping with them.”

You snap your head up. The comment a little too dour to be a meaningless joke.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh! Y/n, I’m sorry.”

She suddenly gasps, her hand flying to cover her mouth that hangs wide open like an animal expecting food.

“I would never mean it like that, I just meant that ever since the clan decided to come up here to the mountains, everybody’s tents became a little…disorganized. Right? You’re sleeping in a hammock with Lo’ak? So I’ve heard.”

You don’t know where the fuck she would even ‘hear’ that from.

You straightened, your patience running thin and your tolerance for jealousy incredibly low.

“It’s two separate hammocks woven together. We’re not sleeping ontop of one another.”

You elaborated, chuckling to yourself.

“Can you even imagine sleeping so close to one of them? Well, I’m sure some would want to imagine it.”

Your tone carried a clear enmity.

Her cheeks flushed, her tail swishing fervently behind her.

Shes nervous now. What happened to all of that confidence?

“Well, I hope I don’t strike you as someone who’s desperate.”

“Oh no, of course not. That’s what makes people so good at it.”

You smiled, locking your fingers together behind your back.

She’s stunned for a moment. Stilling as her imperceptible brain struggles to process everything that’s been said.

“Well, I must be going. I have to meet with the Olo’eyktan. But I wish you a good night, Kyuna.”

She snaps out of her daze.

“H-huh? Oh. Oh yes, good night, Y/n.”

She stares at you. A mix of awe and envy compete for sovereignty.

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹  ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ 

“What are we doing here?”

You and Jake had flown into the night, and landed on one of the mountain tops, the flat rock making space for you both as he sat across from you.

“Have a seat, Y/n.”

You didn’t know why he had brought you there. And you were feeling anxious for n some unknown reason. When you left, Jake insisted you leave your bow and other weapons at home. He promised that you didn’t need them. But how could he know that? How can he possibly understand the stability you felt when those objects were near?

Death, chaos, war, grief, it didn’t wait for anyone. Ever.

“Am I in trouble?”

You asked, nervously shifting on your feet. The rest of the world seemed to drift farther and farther away.

“Y/n.”

“Because If I did something wrong, I can fix it. I promise.”

“Y/n.”

“Jake this is killing me just tell me why-“

“Y/n.”

You felt his large palms cup your biceps, holding you still.

“…yes?”

“Take a deep breath.”

He said softly.

You looked at him puzzled before inhaling in, holding it for a good 3 seconds then exhaling out.

“Attagirl. Are we calm now?”

You nodded, finally sitting across from him, crossing your legs.

He smiled at you, clearly proud of himself.

“Y/n, welcome to your very first therapy session.”

You begged the finest pardon?

You froze. 

Did you hear him right?

Therapy. The word sounded familiar. Then you remember that day he told you about it when you both went hunting.

Should you laugh? Be pissed? Both?

“What the hell are you talking about. Jake?”

He shrugged.

“Well, I’m no professional-“

“Clearly.”

“But I’d figured this would help with…”

He considers his next words, opting for gesturing to your entire self with his hands, 

“Jake, I love you. I really do. You’ve done so much for me over the years. But I’m about 2 minutes away from rocking your shit.”

Not paying any mind to the threat. Jake waves his arms, ridding your frustration from the air.

“You know what, let’s start over. And please. Just give this a chance, yeah?”

“Fine.”

Jake leaned back, locking his fingers together and resting them on his stomach.

“Usually this kind of thing starts with a simple introduction.

Hi, my name is Jake. And I will be your therapist this evening.”

“Jake you know my name.”

He nods.

“Maybe I know your name yes, but I’m here to know your soul and what energy you put out into the universe.”

“Are you stroking out? What the fuck are you talking about.”

He groans.

“Come on kid, bare with me.”

You sigh defeatedly.

“Okay. Okay. Hi. My name is y/n. And I’m an adrenaline addict. Better?”

“…well, we had to start somewhere.”

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺𖦹₊⋆⁺☀︎₊

Authors note:

Stay hating Kyuna. Ik your itching like a bitch without your eczema cream 💕🫶🏽

lol anyways, I hope you guys Enjoyed this chapter. It’s very rushed but I had so much writing sully family fluff. And starting next chapter, we’ll get into Neteyam starting his training with Y/n. And you best believe there is some tension 😌 also you’re gonna have mini therapy sessions with Jake from now on. Remember when they discussed that in chapter 3?? lol.

But I wanted to share a little life update with you guys. I hope you don’t mind. For those of you who don't know, I’m in a relationship. And yes, sme of you probably know him as the guy who was the victim of my cgi faces avatar experiment 🤭

GUYS YOUR GIRL GOT A PROMISE RING 🥳🥳

Now, I don't want anyone thinking I'm bragging or ‘rubbing it in others' faces)’…you guys are the first people I've told. I'm still in shock about it. The point of telling you guys this is that love is beautiful, and I don't think my writing can even begin to express the full extent of that. And one of the many things I love is writing for you guys. I know you guys have never met me and probably never will, and I'm just some person tapping away about blue aliens and posting my silly little rants from time to time, but please know that I appreciate all of you. Every single one of you who read, support, comment, like, repost, my anons, my followers, the friends I've made here, I hope I make you guys as happy as you all have made me. I can’t wait to share my fics and creations with all of you. One of the reasons I love writing for ‘y/n’ and reader inserts is because as someone who has read y/Insert fics, I know how special they can make us feel. So long rant short, I hope I make you guys feel like sexy, gorgeous, devastatingly beautiful, badass bitches yall are ☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺𖦹₊⋆⁺☀︎₊

Taglist 🪐🌑🪻

@fluorynn (my guest of honor 👑)

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange @thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

@OstargirlO

@heavenlysstuff

@dayyzlol

@iheartamajiki

@fluorynn

@bakugouswaif

@eljaynosine-triphosphate

@mojo-jojo-1

@strongheartneteyam

@hungrynessforfics

[good-beanswrites]

hi! may i request some mikoto + amane (platonic obvs) … anything? they are very dear to me 😭

Yes!!! Thank you so much for the request -- they really are such a good pair ;-; (The thing is, I had so many nice scenes in mind about how they parallel each other, but they wouldn't know or reveal that about each other so I kept restarting...) Anyway, here's something right after Mikoto's first trial/verdict!

Mikoto could pick up on someone’s bad mood from a mile away, though the skill was unnecessary when the other party very clearly and calmly informed him, “I’m in a bad mood.”

After refusing his offer, Amane turned back to a thick textbook she’d been taking notes on. Didn’t kids usually complain that school was already a prison? She must have wanted the full experience. He'd worked nonstop at his studies as well, but this was a new level. Amane often reminded him of his little sister, though she always took the extra step like this. His sister would have jumped at this opportunity to play a few rounds of their favorite card game.

“It’ll be fun!”

He flashed a smile, but it had no effect on her severe expression. “I know you’re just trying to comfort me about our verdicts. I refuse to be pitied.”

“Comfort and pity are two very different things. But anyway, it wasn’t either of those things.” He gave an easy shrug “To be honest, I’m just a little bored. It’s weird not having any work to do during the day.” 

Mikoto couldn’t remember the last time in his life he’d had so many hours to himself. A lot of the others were fun to play games with. A few of the sportier prisoners helped him stay active. He enjoyed smoking breaks with the other men. Still, he was left to his own devices for the majority of his time. It was maddening. He’d recently requested some more art supplies, having used up the last batch, but they had yet to come in. Now with the verdict announcement, he wasn’t sure they’d ever arrive.

“That is your own problem. I already have something to do.” Her eyes lingered on the cards for the briefest of moments before returning to the book. “I told you, I’m not in the mood for it.”

Regardless of her hostility, he took a seat beside her. He leaned his arms out on the table. “We don’t have to play the same game.” The last time they'd played as a big group, several prisoners pulling the tables together to fit everyone. Amane had kept very quiet, eyes darting around at the cards as she tried to keep up with the rules. Not many of the others noticed the frustration clear in her face. Mikoto wasn’t the type to let her win out of pity, though he had begun to mutter the rules and strategies to himself a bit more as the night went on… 

“Is there a game you liked to play at home?”

 “No. There was no time for games in the house.” 

“All work and no play… hah… I know what that’s like.” He slumped his cheek onto his arm, lazily shuffling the cards around. He felt bad for bothering the girl if she truly was upset. He thought it was the bad experience that made her reject him, he hadn’t realized there were also family issues attached. Usually he could read people well; maybe he was losing his touch. He seemed to be losing touch with a lot of things, these days.

He readied a game of solitaire. 

“Mikoto?” Amane kept her face turned away. “There was… one game.”

“Yeah?” Mikoto shuffled the cards back together. He slid them over to her. “You should teach me!” 

She didn’t touch them. “You probably already know it.”

“Nah, I only know a few games. I’m better with tarot cards, though those aren’t really the gaming type. Come on, what is it?”

She told him the name of the game, insisting it wouldn’t be worth playing. She kept her attention on the textbook, but her eyes weren’t reading any of it. 

“Ahh, I’ve heard of that one! We start with four cards, right?” He started dealing them out.

“No, five –” she pointed to the deck, urging him to add two more. 

“Right, right.” He laughed lightly. “And the goal is to get pairs, and put them in a pile, uhh, here.”

Amane shook her head. She shifted her body slightly towards him. “You must be thinking of a different game. There’s actually three piles for pairs. One here, one here, and when it’s your opponent’s turn…” 

Her eyes gleamed as she explained the rules. She pointed to various cards, telling him exact moves and point values. “And to win, you need to –” Her expression shifted. “You… you already knew all this.”

“Of course not!” He put on his most convincing smile. 

She deflated. “You’re not a very good liar.”

“Tch, tell that to the warden.”

His shoulders sagged along with her. If Amane could see right through him, why was the rest of Milgram still coming up with stories about what he did and didn’t do? “Well, I might already know the rules, but it’s been a long time since I’ve played. You can still give me a hand. Plus, if you really are in such a bad mood, it’ll be good to take a break from your studies. You should always take a break when things get too overwhelming, yeah?”

She gave him a withering stare.

“Eh? What’s that face for?”

“Alright, let’s play. You can go first.”

“I mean it, what was that look? Aw, come on…”

[mishydraws]

Very... very unfortunate life update

Hi, everyone.

Ok, I don’t want to waste your time but I wanted to be upfront about what’s going on in my life just so you all know.

Last night I got what is probably one of the worst emails that could have ever appeared in my inbox? Our landlord has given us a 60-day notice to get out. For context, my mom and I have been living here since the year 2000. We have never been late on rent or missed a payment despite every difficulty life has thrown at us in that time and this has completely blindsided us.

We haven’t spoken to any of the neighbors yet but some of the wording on the notice makes me think that they may be kicking out the entire building. Or maybe they’re just targeting those of us in the non-renovated units because we’ve been here so long and they could charge a new tenant much more with a quick kitchen and bathroom upgrade. Renoviction is a new word I just learned. I don’t know. That’s what happened to my brother at his last apartment. They kicked out everyone in his building, renovated, raised the rent, then let new people move in.

They suddenly started increasing our rent every year like clockwork a few years ago so I’ve had a feeling they’ve been trying to price us out for a while but I didn’t know they could just… tell us to leave just because they can. Rent consistently paid up and everything for 24 years.

The notice we received really doesn’t say much so it’s all speculation I guess. It doesn’t state a reason why it just says we need to be gone by March 31st.

But basically, I’m really not doing well right now in all honesty. I slept for maybe an hour last night and it’s like a switch flipped in me as soon as I read the email. My stomach has had this weird knotted feeling ever since and I can’t stand up for more than a few minutes before needing to lie down again in case I either faint or vomit… I’m not sure which but it’s been this way since last night. I had to stand up at the sink to wash one singular dish from dinner and I could barely do it. At least I didn’t see the email until after I ate last night because I still have no appetite now.

However bad I’m feeling I know my mom is probably feeling worse. She has been for a while. She’s getting older and my dad is no longer alive. Aside from my brother and one irl friend I still see in person regularly, we have no family or other support system in this country and are well and truly on our own, staring down the barrel of homelessness if we can’t quickly secure a place and move decades worth of our life there before the end of March.

All of this to say, I don’t know what our usual art shenanigans here are going to look like during this time. I am incredibly stressed to the point where I am physically ill but I also can’t pause and step away because I do need the income that I receive from your support of me/my art here. It’s just the reality. I’ve never been particularly Big And Successful with what I do so your support means all the much more and makes a real impact on my life.

I am so sorry if this dampens your mood at all today or if you notice a decrease in the quality of art I’m able to deliver over the next few months but I will try my best to keep things rolling and let you know if there’s any particular delays to expect.

To top it off, I requested a tour of a nearby apartment last night (more expensive than our current) and the name of the person who just texted me back has the same name as our current landlord. Who wants to start taking bets? I know for a fact they own a lot of property in the area so this isn’t looking promising.

Anyways. Sorry for this downer of a post. If we’re not homeless in 2 months then… I dunno. I’ll have somewhere indoors to do art? Yay? You can imagine the housing market we’re dealing with being in California. The prospect of moving at this point has always been one of my biggest fears but we’ll see if we get lucky real fast 😢

If you've ever thought about supporting my Patreon or anything else, now and over the next few months might be a good time if you can swing it. Maybe it'll help us secure a place to move if I can point to it and be like 'Look! A whole income!' 🥲 Idk man.

There's an art update in the (public) post I made if you want to see what we're at least trying to work on for sticker club through all of this.

Mishy

[frogofalltime]

06.02.2024

as i am no longer taking adhd meds this is not a medication diary anymore but it has been helpful for my mental health to write about my day like this so i will continue it with a new tag :)

i slept very badly; i didn't fall asleep until very late and i kept waking up in the night having weird dreams.

i had to get up at 7:30 which was really hard but i did it. i ate breakfast and got ready and i was two minutes late for my 9am class but it's okay, the most important thing is that i went. i only wrote two lines of notes on the lecture though.

then immediately after that lecture i had a 3-hour long lab class. i did Not have a good time: i was so tired and the lab is so overstimulating even in the best of times, so i was really struggling. i also was very hungry, i think my body is catching up on the food it missed out on last week, so i went out of the lab for a few minutes to eat a snack and tried to mentally recover before i went back to continue working.

as soon as lab was over i had yet another lecture. thankfully this is the class that i have with @etherealspacejelly (seeing robin always cheers me up even if it's the worst day ever). it was just revision of some stuff we learned last year so it wasn't too hard but i was so tired that i just couldn't wait to get out of that room.

finally after 5 hours of back to back classes i finally could take a break. i went to the house where all my friends live to eat my lunch which i had left in the fridge there yesterday, and then i accidentally fell asleep on the sofa for an hour.

when i woke up we had to go to another class and by now i was Not feeling well at all. i had a headache, i was hungry again, i felt overwhelmed, and i just wanted to sleep. i spent most of the class with my head on the desk trying not to have a meltdown.

when that was finally over my friend tried to talk to me but i was unable to speak. i've struggled with this my whole life because i am autistic and i have situational mutism (?) but recently this has been happening every day. i left without saying goodbye and went home and stared at the wall for an hour because i felt like i was going to have a meltdown or cry or throw things around while screaming.

eventually i forced myself to get up and make myself some food and that helped a lot. i ate while reading percy jackson. by the time i had finished eating, i felt much better, though i still couldn't speak to my flatmate when she came in to the kitchen.

i washed my dishes and took a shower (which was very overstimulating, idk why showering has become even harder for me recently, and it was already difficult enough). i considered going to bed but it was only 8pm and i didn't want to wake up in the middle of the night so i decided to do some art instead.

drawing and creative things always improve my mood, but i often don't have the energy to do it, so i'm glad i was able to do that tonight. after that i was feeling hungry again. i was unwilling to eat Again because i already had eaten 3 meals and one snack and eating more than one "treat" food per day is against the Rules. but i know my body wouldn't ask for food if it didn't need it so i made myself some toast with nutella and seeds and i also had some grapes. it was very nice, my favourite kind of food, and i am proud of myself for letting myself eat it.

then i washed my plate and realised i had forgotten to take my antidepressant meds this evening, so i took them when i went to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

now i am in bed and i feel a lot better than i did all day. sometimes i guess i need some rest, a lot of food, a creative outlet, and some Autism Time, otherwise i turn into an insane little creeture.

goodnight everyone, i hope tomorrow is better <3

[sav-not-tav]

Get To Know Me Tag

Whew this was a long one! Thanks for the tag lovely, @darkurgetrash <3 This was fun! I love these games and learning more about my moots and sharing about myself when I wouldn't otherwise!

No pressure tags for: @little-paperboat @seabirdsong @forget-me-maybe Do you make your bed? Nope! Once I manage to peel myself out of that thing, what's left behind isn't my business. (plus I have 2 dogs who would promptly tear it back up, so,)

Favorite Number: I've always liked the number 11. Can't really say why, though!

What's your job? I am in sales, which works shockingly well given that I am pretty introverted IRL

If you could go back to school, would you? No. I was always smart but struggled in school because I had undiagnosed ADHD and was only seen as a problem child and as the weird girl. The lack of support and social issues left a bad taste in my mouth for school. Then, post-high school, I experienced terrible burnout in my first few years at college.

Can you parallel park/drive a manual car? Yes and yes. Cars and motorsports are actually a big passion of mine :)

Do you think aliens are real? Hell yeah! We'd be insane to think we're the only ones here. I kinda subscribe to the Dark Forest theory, though

What's your guilty pleasure? Napping. On the rare weekends that I have free time, there is nothing to stop me from a 6-hour mid-day nap. That and sweets.

Tattoos? I have 4, with plans for a few more. I have more piercings than tattoos at the moment. I just need to find a new artist, eventually... if I ever remember.

Favorite type of music: I have 2, depending on the mood. Metal/Rock or Electronic/House music. Which, these days a lot of metal leans on electronic heavily so it balances 🥰

Do you like puzzles? Yes and no. I really enjoy escape rooms as my ADHD can just go crazy with finding something, getting distracted and finding something else, then putting it all together. The time constraints are the vibe killer there, tbh

Any phobias? Fear of falling, definitely. I don't mind heights themselves if I'm in a secure position, but things like skydiving/ziplining/certain roller coasters do me in.

Favorite childhood sport: I was never into sports as a kid. I've gotten really into motorsports as an adult, though, and feel like if I grew up somewhere that kids motor sporting/karting was more prevalent *cough cough Europe cough cough* I would have been super into that.

Do you talk to yourself? Not really. There's enough going on in my mind 24/7 that the external stimulation might push me over the edge lol

What movie(s) do you adore? When people ask about my 'favorite movie', there are only ever 2 answers. Animated: Pixar's Cars. Live Action: Interstellar. No I will not take questions.

Coffee or tea: Depends. Cold: Coffee, all day. Hot: Tea, green, please.

First thing you wanted to be growing up? An astronaut 🥰

Last song I listened to: tear gas - Architects

Favorite color: Black!

Current obsession: BG3, lol.

Last thing I Googled: The phone # for my local tire shop 😂 Fancy.

Favorite Season: Winter. I love a good cold day.

Skill I'd like to learn: Painting. I actually went to art school for 2 years before suffering from extreme burn out. I was always decent with digital art, but I would love to be able to really, actually, literally paint

Best advice: I genuinely can't share any. Big head no thoughts. Sorry

Currently watching: Catching up on the Fallout show! I'm always very behind on new TV but currently about halfway through it.

Currently reading: A stupidly long list of BG3 fanfics as my "to read" books sit gathering dust on my bookshelf.

Relationship status: Married! Together since 2016 <3

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Gosh it really depends on the mood, but if I had to choose only one for the rest of my life, SWEET! I have a weakness for baked goods.

[apex-academy]

Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#18)

Lunch is my first remotely decent excuse to leave Mahavir’s side. As much as I’d like to support my friend, watching him stew in his guilt sure isn’t helping me. Which means I’m not helping him much, either.

I confirm he’s staying in the Nurse’s Office, then trek back to the cafeteria. No Tsunyasha, at least.

“Oh, GREAT! JUST when I thought I might get some PEACE AND QUIET!”

“Right, I’m the threat to that here.”

I flee to the kitchen before he can manage a coherent response. No idea what I want to eat, though, and Mahavir certainly didn’t have suggestions. Time to stand blankly in front of an open refrigerator and hope it hikes up the young master’s electric bills.

Unfortunately, it’s also cold, so I grab some cheese and deli meat and shut the door before too long. After a few moments’ contemplation, I decide I’m not in the mood for any more meal-making decisions, so I’ll just make rollups of these. Bread’s overrated, anyway.

“...And so are condiments, I guess.”

Whatever. I’m sticking with it.

...And standing in the kitchen to eat so I don’t have to hear whatever Ichiriki’s raving about now. Is he just bored? Does he need some new colors of chalk for a little enrichment?

Well. I make fun of him, but I sure wouldn’t mind access to the art room again. No chance of that unless someone else uses it for a murder, though.

“...”

I finish my food and make Mahavir a plate. Can’t imagine him having any remnant of an appetite right now, but might as well try.

Unfortunately, the cafeteria’s still the only exit from here. 

Maybe I should run.

Or actually check on Ichiriki, I guess. Gotta admit, “Is Ichiriki doing okay” is not a thought that’s crossed my mind much. He’s just... He just is. I don’t know. He’s free to leave with the rest of us if he is one of us, but until then... Not my problem. Got enough of those already.

So, a fine brisk pace it is.

But when I step out, Ichiriki is no longer alone.

“...sure you wouldn’t be interested?”

“Of COURSE NOT! The FIRST one was bad ENOUGH!”

“But you’re curious, aren’t you?”

“No!”

“Just a little bit?”

“MAYBE!”

“........”

Think I’m good to just. Slink on out of here unnoticed.

“Ah, Miss Kogamino!”

Assuming Aidan wouldn’t notice something was a bad call on my part. “Do I want to know what I’m missing over here?”

“You ABSOLUTELY don’t!”

Not sure why I asked. Really striking out on logical behavior today.

“Not another weird dream, I hope?”

“No...”

“...Or at least not one of my own! There’s no telling where the writers got their inspiration, of course.”

Ichiriki mentioned “the first one”...

“Ah. The movie sequel.”

“.............”

More words are said, but I’m so distracted I can’t even tell who spoke. With current company, that’s really saying something.

Another dream... What was it that I...

“Hang on.”

I turn around to retrieve my little “young master deductions”—like you could really call them that—notebook and flip to the last filled pages, the letters askew and distorted from drowsiness and poor lighting.

Flashback dreams... Yeah, I sure do have those sometimes.

But not just me.

I wheel on Aidan and slap my hands on the table to catch myself, interrupting whatever I end up interrupting.

“Aidan! Your dream!”

The boys break off their conversation with widely varying levels of offended sputtering. Aidan adjusts his glasses.

“Er. The ‘professional air traffic controller’ one, or something else?”

“The one you told me about the other day.” Yesterday? I don’t even know anymore. 

“You woke up in a mirror of Lab Room A, right?”

“Within the dream? Yes, that sounds accurate.”

The table’s edge digs into my palms.

“What if that was real?”

He hums.

“I suppose it’s entirely possible. There must be a Lab Room B, after all, even if we’ve yet to be allowed inside.” 

“And I’m sure I would have been kept somewhere on-campus to minimize risk of discovery by unrelated parties.”

“Which is probably why we haven’t been let inside, right? If the young master’s cutting-edge revival technology, or whatever, was in there...”

I lean in further, much to Ichiriki’s offense. Don’t care.

“Were any of the other students there in the dream? Can you remember?”

“I hate to report that dreams are partially immune from my perfect memory skills here, but... Let’s see.”

Ichiriki grumbles to himself, but at least he’s not yelling over us. Probably doesn’t know what to say. I’ll take it.

“I can’t guarantee that the other fallen students were present.” 

“But I am certain that the life support systems and such did not take up the entirety of the room. There was space for other beds, or whatever you'd call the thing I was lying on.”

“So, if all of you were hooked up before that motive vote, and only before it, and if you’re the only one who was—then—!”

I think he responds, but I’m busy swinging my head around to check every corner of the room. Not here. Wasn’t in the kitchen. But if I’m right...

Dizzy, I try to remember to breathe as I charge into the hallway.

“MONOCHAP! I need to talk to you, now!”

[BACK] [NEXT]

[chatlote]

Details / Explanation of my NG+ Au

Notes from the art I just posted a few hours ago!

It's about 700 words long but I hope it's an enjoyable read!

The last time before New Game+ they had an honest conversation was 2/2, aka: Akechi telling Joker to accept that Akechi's life is a small sacrifice to pay for making things back to normal.

So their relationship is really confusing, at least from Akechis perspective. Rivals for most of the year, and then teaming up for the third semester because of a common goal. Even though Joker clearly cares, Akechi probably doesn’t even see that as honest and just something more like pity.

Akechi never sees himself as part of the phantom thieves during the entire 'first' run so now that he is back to the 'start' it's been a very stressful situation, he knows Shido wants to kill him within a year, but he still wants to get revenge, he is more lonely than ever before because he actually had teammates for a bit, and the phantom thieves might show up at any point and he has to face them again but he doesn’t know how to. All this on top of the fact that it's weird to have suddenly been sent back in time.

He is a great actor, his entire life for 2 years has been lies, but this level of pretending is a bit much. And I think a lot about when he just opens up to Futaba and Joker in Leblanc while he is being shunned by society for not agreeing with the PT might have been one of the few times that pretending didn’t come as easy because he was genuinely stressed/having a bad one.

So, has been sent back, and has been spending a few days unsure of what to do, or even if this is real, because he did just supposedly ‘break out of a fake reality’ but maybe that went wrong? Maybe this is once again being controlled by someone else.

And then he stumbles upon Joker in Shibuya, and that moment really breaks him, reality is catching up. He has to relive this year again. Because one of the future phantom thieves, the leader himself, just showed up.

He is not alone in feeling terrified about this whole ‘sent back in time’ thing, obviously, Joker is finding all this overwhelming too, which is why when he sees something akin to recognition in Akechis expression, he immediately has to reach out, grab him and hope, hope that he isn't wrong and he won’t have to go through all this again, alone.

This is happening in the first week of the loop, so there’s just, Joker has been to the metaverse once, Morgana hasn’t joined the team yet. Joker hasn’t told anyone about it because he isn't even sure how to go about it. Or who would believe him, or once again if he believes it himself, Maruki reality really making them question themselves.

Some stuff from after this meeting (might make some comics about this too but I have other shuake plans rn so might be a bit) From this encounter I imagine it goes into an apprehensive team-up, apprehensive from Akechi’s side. Joker will want to spend a lot of time together where they get to finally be honest with each other, and make use of all the time we lost, while Akechi tries to keep the relationship more business-like (and fails at it). They do need to figure out some lies and plans of what to do about the targets pilling up from Shido, which Akechi isn’t quite in the mood to deal with. (Metaverse having some issues Shido trust me on this)

They also use each other as anchors for their sanity a bit. Still a very disorienting situation, and sometimes it's waking up and not being sure if they are alone in remembering and sending the other a 3 a.m. message, other times is just being able to sit at Jazz Jin and having a conversation they have not had before, since at some point hearing a friend and acquientence have the same conversation you have had once before for the first time can get…upsetting? or I suppose uncomfortable.

At some point, they would tell the thieves everything, it’s hard not to. And Akechi joins them very early on through Joker's recommendation and insistence, revealing the black mask bit stuff would come more mid-way through the year.

To not make this post longer I will leave it at this for now!

[hexenmond]

Webcomic Wednesday: Gunnerkrigg Court

Buckle up folks, this is going to be a long one. Not least because this comic has been running for years and years now (since 2005, even longer than I thought!). And it really has it all — I’m sure I could throw bits and bobs at you for longer than anyone would care to read and I still wouldn’t need to hit any spoilers. There’s just so MUCH!

Shortest summary I can do: It’s a coming of age story, following Antimony, a not very average girl in a decidedly fantasy-techy world, throughout her years at Gunnerkrigg Court, a school for the weird and paranormal.

Distinct art style

Well art is always a matter of taste, but in my humble opinion it started out unique and striking and a little bit quirky and only got better over the years. Have a few a whole bunch of samples, roughly from older to newer:

(I actually own physical copies of the first three volumes, and both the vibrant and the more muted colours really set a mood on the black paper.)

Tons of multidimensional, juicy characters

Seriously, every single character is a fleshed out, complex person with believable capacity for genius and being likeable, but also for mediocrity and villainy (and in quite a few cases, I still really don‘t know what their deal is). I especially enjoy all the teenagers behaving like actual teenagers, making impulsive decisions and having no clue. But also I should say that there are many, many non-human characters, and they are really fun!

Let’s see, we have, in no particular order:

a selection of figures from myths and stories

some shadows

laser cows (I’d completely forgotten about those until my son read the comics and wouldn’t shut up about them for days)

some fairies

people who turn into animals

animals who turn into people

someone who looks like a human but isn’t

a person whose mind is in a cage most of the time

ghosts and spirits

and very importantly, ROBOTS

The most mind-blowing world building

Just imagine: this comic will be twenty years old next year. It has been plodding along at a steady pace of three pages a week, usually without much of a chapter break. And there are so many threads woven throughout this story that may or may not get picked up again - it might just go on for another twenty years, but then again it could also end in a gigantic big bang within a year. I really couldn’t say.

Now that I think about it, it reminds me a bit of The Sandman (disclaimer: it’s been at least a decade since I last read those comics), with all the many elements from different mythologies crisscrossing and interweaving to make this thick tapestry of stories within a story. (And I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that so far, the basis of that world seems rather more solid to me – Sandman’s “fundamental universal forces” that just happen to be seven in number, all conveniently starting with a D, have always bugged me a little bit).

Long story short, I’ve been reading this comic since 2009 or so, and I have yet to tire of it. It’s masterfully done, cohesive with a fair amount of plot twists, suitable for young teenagers (possibly younger depending on the kid), inclusive without being explicit about it, fantastical, techy, and it just feels so genuine to me.

Go take a look, but remember - we’re in chapter 95. Pace yourself. (I’m saying this as someone who has a hard time doing that usually…)

Start here: First page of Gunnerkrigg Court

Bonus: Parley being a badass!

[ghooostbaby]

was tagged by @muigiel ^^

nine albums or songs I've been listening to lately x nine people I’d like to get to know better x tag game with no name

1. why did you choose your url? i heard "ghost baby" could be a translation of wei ying (from mdzs) and i really loved that vibe

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them. @revengegarden which i use to put art inspiration in.

3. how long have you been on tumblr? i think i first joined when it was in beta in like 2009! i didnt really know how to use it though. i used it intermittently over the years to post silly poetry and save stuff from the internet i enjoyed. i never really interacted with anyone or understand how that worked. i made a new account in 2020 when i got interested in fandom stuff during pandemic lockdown times..

4. do you have a queue tag? no

5. why did you start your blog in the first place? well i answered that above kind of ... i've always sort of gotten weird obsessed with whatever i'm watching or reading, no one else i knew really had the same level and that i remember during the first weeks of lockdown searching stuff on what i was watching instead of bothering uninterested people about it and ended up on tumblr looking at fan art of zuko and sokka :P and all these people losing it over fictional characters i was like ... i think i'm home? so i got a tumblr to participate in it more.

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp? my name is from wei wuxian so i wanted a pic of him! he was sort of my main blorbo at the time making this account, and he truly captured my heart when he was all red-eyed insane with rage playing his demon flute

7. why did you choose your header? i don't know what my header is haha

8. what’s your post with the most notes? i'm not sure exactly, but i think the last 'annual stats' thing tumblr shared was a feverish cumplane head canon i posted. i also get notes every day on a recent post about wu ming fanon vs canon. but actually my looooong ranting meta about wei wuxian and lan wangji is probably the most notes. but reading that meta makes me want to hide under a rock encountering my past self

9. how many mutuals do you have? a couple

10. how many followers do you have? o.o

11. how many people do you follow? a few hundred i think?

12. have you ever made a shitpost? *looks up definition of shitpost* no

13. how often do you use tumblr each day? probably an hour a day just scrolling on my phone when i'm too tired to do anything else... i've had a job this summer that has been brutally long hours and tiring so i'm not in the mood to sit at my computer much

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? sometimes haha. listen, sometimes people have takes that are so bad i have to say SOMEthing. then i get so terrified of being yelled at i delete everything or ignore tumblr for 2 weeks or ask @muigiel if people are being mean in my notes hahaha

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts ummmmm

16. do you like tag games? it's nice to be tagged! atm i usually don't have time when i receive them and then the notification passes and i forget, this one i put in my drafts though

17. do you like ask games? love to be a part of one one day T.T idk maybe more people would send me asks if i turned on anon but a year or so ago i started getting all these terfs harassing me in my asks (must be doing something right?) so i turned off anon. one actually was mad enough to send me a death threat (?!) from their account so i was able to report them

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? haha i don't have many, just all of us small fish swimming together.. but i think a lot of people in danmei fandoms really love what @baiwu-jinji posts :) although i think they're not super active rn or we're not on at the same times

19. do you have a crush on a mutual? no but if you're in love with me let me know! i wouldn't be opposed to a tumblr romance :P

20. what is the last song you listened to? hmmmm i think i was listening to a Grouper album last

21. what are you currently watching? i wanted to find something new to watch that had perfect gorgeous visuals of beautiful outside places and ended up watching Orlando last night

22. sweet/ savoury/ spicy? all!

23. what is your current relationship status? single

24. what is your current obsession? tgcf, he xuan, yin yu, maurice (film & reading the book)

25. what are nine albums/ songs you've been listening to lately?

maurice soundtrack !!

80s dancey music bc my taste definitely gears towards lyricless and traditonal/folk music but i've been working with kids who all want to listen to justin bieber all the time so trying to get some fun pop music i can also enjoy (i just hate the sounds of contemp pop music sorry, somehow it feels so... digital? data-driven? written by AI?) - and actually have found madonna is soooo good.

and then relistening to old favourites... yesterday i was enjoying my rock n roll romance playlist which has david bowie, bauhaus, wanda jackson (tunnel of love), suicide (cheree), roy orbison, dead or alive

if you want to take a look inside my brain https://www.nts.live/shows/cantus-orbis

tag 9 people.. uhh. how about just @unfotp @marloviandevil @baiwu-jinji but no obligation!

[mihai-florescu]

Do you agree with me that we should get rid of "death of the author" and that we should introduce "death of the audience" instead?

"Oooh but how will other people interpret this-" I don't know! I don't care! I wanna know what goes on inside the brain of the person who actually put their time and effort and soul into this. Not five million other people who Did Not Create the Thing.

(Sorry if this is weird but you feel like the most qualified person i know to have an opinion on this)

Disclaimer, im big on believing 2 things coexist at the same time about everything. My mood swings put me in black and white thinking often, but when i can think clearly from both perspectives im still a contrarian and have counter points for my counter points. Im gonna word vomit an answer, im not good at ordering my thoughts but i hope its fine still.

Oh brother i used to go on rants about this (authorial intent, media consumption, fandom culture etc) all of last semester and it's what ultimately led to me giving up on my degree and serious art altogether... i'll attach a few i found in my archive i think are relevant if youre curious beep meep meow. I was writing these posts at the same time as my thesis paper which was more hopeful and aiming to reframe what we consider escapism, but in the end by the finale (last assessment) the hatred won in my heart and i couldnt make a visual project with an audience in mind. I made something, but it was more like a rant with visuals and absolutely failed the "whats the future of this project?" question. Must it have a future for an audience? Its job was to be a confession and a respite, for my own expression. I dont want an audience, im too much of a misanthropic hater and possessive mother to let others see or interpret my ideas. I know it's selfish and counterproductive but i cant help it. You sending this ask made me laugh since it was so relevant to my struggles this year. Id love to break out of this cycle and mindset but i always go back here to these beliefs.

Anyway... i do think the sensible truth is somewhere in the middle. Reader's interpretation is essential for works to gain life in the world and to outlive their authors, and i revere stories for the ability to touch people's hearts and make them learn things about themselves as well as other's way of thinking (reading is a process of interpretation and contemplation afterall isnt it? Well, active reading at least. Citation to my written thesis). But im not a fan of fandom lens interpretations that so often flatten stories.

I think for our shared stories of interest authorial intent is particularly fun to think about. Commercial works made to sell gacha games but which do have heart and profound messages theyre trying to convey. But also made with an audience in mind. I havent been able to formulate any particularly riveting conclusions, but i would love to know if anyone has focused on such topics. Everything deserves analysis and attempts at understanding... and i find authorial intent an invaluable insight that can never be cast aside. Works gain lives of their own after theyre set free into the world, but they dont spawn fully formed from thin air ready for "consumption"...

Uuu im trying to decide if i should link to you a story about storytelling i wrote and illustrated in a day, and a video about humanity and the power of imagination as salvation and damnation... if i say "i'll share them, but only if you erase from your mind that i wrote them" it'd be hypocritical after everything i just spilled out. But too much knowledge about the author is scary too... not for the audience as much as the author himself. It's the audience who has the final laugh of judgement and interpretation... but it's scary to let others into your mind, to see things you spent time and energy on? I wish i could channel my death of the audience defiance into proudly sharing works without caring who sees them rather than deciding nothing is worth making anymore since im so mistrustful. Alas! Maybe one day i'll stop being a self absorbed, self sabotaging prey animal

[soullikethesea]

I'm... bored?

It seems like such a bad reason to feel like jumping out of my skin.

I started learning a language, I'm painting again, I'm vigorously exercising (calisthenics and yoga included) and I'm seeing so many people. Oh, and I'm gaming and reading and cooking. And of course, I'm completely on top of the work I am supposed to do. Its' amount just decreased by a ton.

Apparently if I'm not at work enough, I get closer to those feelings of being a horrible person. Horrible, horrible. And anxiety of constantly checking whether people have replied to me. Do I really exist in this world? Really?

Or is it all just a dream.

I made a bit of a mistake and I *called* my old horse riding instructor. She hadn't replied to my email, but honestly who can blame her... it had only been a few days. So it felt pretty awkward in the end, even though I kind of need to know before I can affirm the weekend away to the horsey place.

So then of course I felt horrible about that for most of the day. I wonder if I'm getting back into art and horse stuff because the fox part is closer. Maybe it is something to be a bit careful about, if I want to stay more grounded.

But at least I have some things to look forward to. Some of the kids I'm teaching seem to have bonded with me somewhat more last week and it felt lovely to be joking around with them. And one of my friends also said he had a super nice time with me last week (mutual experience!). So those are good things(!!! - trying to make myself focus on that). Tomorrow I'm teaching at my other job and I'll meet my new groups.

It just feels so empty and weird. I guess it's also because I haven't gotten used to this new schedule yet. It always feels easier when everyone inside knows what to expect.

I'll try meditating and then hopefully work will lift my mood.

[thebookoffrank]

Day 2/100: Chag Pesach Sameach! 🥚

Hey friends! Tonight is the start of Pesach, a 12-day celebratory period remembering the Jewish Exodus from Egypt. Tonight is the celebration of Seder, a ritual feast marking the beginning of the holiday. I am not celebrating it today, as my Jewish friends and I are doing it -- delayed due to venue unavailability -- on Friday (which means a lot of preparation for me tomorrow as I am one of the hosts...)! So exciting! It is also Holy Week, a period of Christian holy days, starting from Palm Sunday (last Sunday) and ending with Easter Sunday, with Maundy Thursday and Holy Friday in between. What an exciting time! And so busy too... I am performing a few concerts this weekend(ish) so that's something to look forward to. ⭐️

Today, I worked on my lectures, one of which was recorded -- something that so unpleasantly reminded me of the plague times -- about Islamic art, more precisely the Fal-Nama and representations of the Qur'anic story of Adam and Eve. I thought it was a very interesting lecture, and the Fal-Nama presented in it were gorgeous. Might share them on my page later!

I also have been thinking about several very awkward and quite daring emails I will have to send to my professors soon enough... I totally dread that, but oh, what won't I do for a chance at academic wish fulfilment! Speaking of emails, my prof approved my theological question! I think I'll share it with you once I've submitted the essay, so you can let me know what you think!

I also returned some books I have 'borrowed' from someone (aka took them from a pile laying around in a room at my uni) only to find out the owner has collected their other books back! I sincerely hope they come back to look for their missing books because otherwise, it's just a silly situation (and 4 books randomly left laying on the floor).

I'm in one of those weird moods where I think people dislike me on principle. I think I just need to sleep more and figure out the meal schedule once and for all. Yikes. ☹️

Today's stats:

🎧 - TV Girl - Lovers Rock

📖 - Viktor E. Frankl: Man's Search For Meaning

Daily weather: 🌦 Too hot when I have my coat on, too cold when I have it off... thanks Dublin.

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(PS: the list of tags is gigantic and absurd but I am trying so hard to find like-minded individuals on the hellsite so bear with me!)

[where-your-eyes-dont-go]

tag 9 people to get to know better

tagged by @burn-throughout-eternity

3 ships: Wolfspider, ..., (hm, there must be others), ..., uhhh griddlehark and rosemary? Saying you "ship" a canonical pairing seems like a misuse of the term but they both have ship names so I guess they work

First ever ship: If I try to seriously answer this then you'll have to read several pages of analysis of the term "ship" and what it does and doesn't apply to. None of which will be at all accurate for anyone who actually engages in fandom. So to simplify things lets just say rosemary.

Last song: "Tripoli" by Pinback. Its a rainy day, kind of suits the mood.

Last movie: My local arthouse theater was showing The Holy Mountain, saw it on a whim. It's pretty good. Certainly a few very memorable scenes. I will say that while I'm not a fan of the "dude how HIGH do you have to even BE etc etc" response to weird art, I probably was not in the intended headspace to fully appreciate it.

Currently reading: Oh lord. Okay gonna limit this to what I've actually picked up the past week. I've gotten to the second chapter of Umineko, I'm on 9.4 of Ward, I'm still working my way through "The Donatist Church in an Apocalyptic Age," I've just finished "Sword of the Lictor" in the Book of the New Sun series and am starting "Citadel of the Autarch," I'm making good progress on Borges' "Labrynths," and I've just started a book on Henry Darger that is way too psychoanalytical for me to take as a good piece of scholarship but is nonetheless interesting to read through. Oh and a bunch of the scholarship on Hardwig's "Duty to Die" argument and its various counters.

I probably need to sit down and just finish one of these. I'm not gonna though

Currently watching: I've been watching JJBA on and off for a bit, currently in early part 4.

Currently consuming: My third drink from the same teabag.

Currently craving: Lentils over rice and beans.

Tagging: @lakesbian @artbyblastweave @glowspider @ball-lightning @greatwyrmgold @yugonostalgia2019 @n0brainjustvibes @selamat-linting @theamberarchive (ignore if you're not interested and if you are interested but weren't tagged consider yourself tagged!)