#it was heartbreaking just enough and it fit his character so well

[airyal245]

[temis-de-leon]

Dateables realizing their feelings for reader

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Demon Brothers version

Romance Anon: Could I request headcanons for Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon realising his feelings for gn reader?

A/N: I think the reason why this one took so long is that I already described part of their crush in Part 2 (originally Part 1), so this feels just like an "extra". I don't really like it and it feels very OOC and incomplete, but it's the best I could do <3

.

Diavolo

He has always been thankful for his ability to read emotions. It helps him distinguish between those who try to take advantage of his positive nature and other, more honest, people willing to open their minds to his ideas, even if they disagree. 

This gift tends to leave him drowning in isolation as if he were observing a party he wasn’t invited through a window. Would he rather live amongst lies and blissful ignorance? Would he prefer not knowing when someone has intentions of hurting him?

Those are drastic thoughts, he knows, but they roam his mind nonetheless. 

Diavolo is painfully aware of the main root of his recent ruminations; not a traitor amidst his court or a threat from far away, but, instead, something more heartbreaking: his new human friend. 

The moment his daydreamings begin to include you more and more, the dread of realization stops his heart. He’s never fallen in love, let alone with a human. What is he supposed to do?

The possibility of letting you go so both could find a better fit crosses his mind, but his unwillingness to lose you doesn’t let him entertain the idea. 

Would you fall for him as well? You, the one who treats him like a friend and not a loyal servant? The one who, after seeing the leathery wings behind his back and the ornate horns above his head, still pushes him to become what he could be? To reach what he yearns to achieve?

He’ll have you if you allow it, and he’ll wish for it if you don’t.

Barbatos

He'd like to have more time to evaluate how strong his feelings for you are, but, ironically, there's no such thing for him.

Your smile stays in his mind while he runs errands and the melody of your laugh follows him in silent moments. He writes your name instead of food while listing groceries and your voice stands out the most when everyone is reunited.

Attraction; the birth of affection.

He thinks (hopes?) those aren't stable enough to evolve into something more frightening, but how wrong he is.

In reality, Barbatos is as jealous as Mammon, but his resentment towards said demon doesn't appear until the brothers start to argue about you when you aren't around.

Is it true? Is Mammon "your first"?

Although composed as ever, there's no denying his change of heart. He feels frustrated, but not at you, and the sourness fills his mouth no matter what he eats.

When the misunderstanding is clarified, after another one of Mammon's fits and Satan's exasperation in retaliation, the sense of relief leaves him dizzy.

It is serious then, isn't it? Nothing he can escape unless wanting heartbreak.

Forcing and rushing your reciprocation is not something he feels comfortable with; what would be worth if it weren't natural?

He's willing to wait, being the patient demon he is, and while his longing grows with each passing day, enjoying the journey feels just as exciting.

Solomon

The human sorcerer falling for the other human exchange student?

It's a slow process and he doesn't notice the change until it's too late. One moment you're just acquaintances and the next he can't do anything without thinking about you.

He has a book you might like, why not go to Purgatory Hall for a quick visit?

Are you okay? Do you feel lonely? He knows the brothers can be a handful sometimes, so don't worry and talk to him whenever you need to.

He supposes it makes sense, but that doesn't make it less disheartening.

How cliche of him to develop feelings for the only person in the Devildom he will outlive.

The memories of past long-lost lovers haunt him as he ponders the idea of giving you a chance. He knows loving you would feel wonderful, but do you even like him back? Is the risk worth a chance?

Will it compensate for the pain that your eventual passing would bring?

As time passes and the potential of your powers arises, Solomon decides that he'd rather try and lose than not try at all.

Who knows? Maybe fate will trick you both and let him have you for the rest of eternity.

Simeon

From all the things Simeon thought he would learn while living in the Devildom, experiencing love was not one of them.

The feeling per se isn't foreign to him, he knows it in many forms, but what he finds in you doesn't resemble anything he's ever seen or felt before.

It fills his heart until it's bursting at the seams and, yet, he still wants more.

He daydreams a lot, captivated by your image to the point of losing awareness of his surroundings. He blushes and humms, doodling and making romantic interests for his stories according to everything he sees in you, both the good and the bad side.

Simeon has a positive mental attitude around his growing infatuation towards you, since, while the possibility of not being reciprocated is there, he knows your friendship goes beyond that.

Perhaps that is why you settled so easily in his heart: the roots of platonic love wouldn't go to rott if being rejected were the case.

This is new and exciting for him, an unknown path he's willing to explore regardless of the results.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven

[maenefa]

This kind of Denethor discourse is so frustrating to me that I am literally pacing back and forth like a panther in a zoo enclosure. Ugggggggghhhhh

A lot of people will tell you that the moral of The Lord of the Rings is “never lose hope,” and that Denethor is bad because he loses hope.

Please read THIS and THIS and especially THIS, which is one of the most beautiful and heartbreaking meditations on LotR you’ll ever read. Tolkien’s ideas about hope are so much more radical than “hope good despair bad.”

Denethor—Tolkien’s Denethor, not Peter Jackson’s Denethor—is unsettling because he tries to hope, but his hope isn’t strong enough to save him. Here are his thoughts on hope, just a few days before his death:

The time will not be long. In what is left, let all who fight the Enemy in their fashion be at one, and keep hope while they may, and after hope still the hardihood to die free.

Denethor has a more “realist” worldview than Gandalf or Faramir, but he’s not a nihilist. He’s still hanging onto hope even though he’s grieving Boromir and he’s positive that Frodo is going to be captured by Sauron. He only breaks when Faramir is mortally wounded and he sees the black ships in the palantir. And I don’t mean he gives up, I mean his mind snaps:

And as [Pippin] watched, it seemed to him that Denethor grew old before his eyes, as if something had snapped in his proud will, and his stern mind was overthrown.

Tolkien repeatedly uses language like “madness,” “madman,” “he is not himself” and “his mind was overthrown.” It’s not subtle!

Denethor is having a psychotic episode. His culpability is reduced, either partially or totally; we can’t know for certain. But I don’t think that everything he says and does in his last moments is “the real Denethor.”

We can do our best and try to have hope, but sometimes life crushes us. How are we supposed to live with the knowledge that this can happen?

Tolkien was haunted by the idea of heroes who fail, heroes who are crushed by their burdens:

Frodo indeed 'failed' as a hero, as conceived by simple minds: he did not endure to the end; he gave in, ratted. (Letter 246)

….I think it can be observed in history and experience that some individuals seem to be placed in 'sacrificial' positions: situations or tasks that for perfection of solution demand powers beyond their utmost limits, even beyond all possible limits for an incarnate creature in a physical world – in which a body may be destroyed, or so maimed that it affects the mind and will. Judgement upon any such case should then depend on the motives and disposition with which he started out, and should weigh his actions against the utmost possibility of his powers, all along the road to whatever proved the breaking-point. (Letter 246)

Tolkien himself tended to judge Denethor harshly, but the character fits very well into the same template as Frodo: a “sacrificial” person who is pushed beyond his limits. The palantir aged him and weakened his mental health, but what truly pushed him over the edge was the wounding of Faramir: Tolkien says that Denethor “maintained the integrity of his personality until the final blow of the (apparently) mortal wound of his only surviving son.”

It’s easy to judge Denethor for using the palantir (although Tolkien said that he had the right to use it and Gandalf admitted that the palantir’s knowledge had often proved useful!) but what should Denethor have done differently regarding sending Faramir into battle? We know that the defense of Osgiliath was necessary because Tolkien had the Rohirrim arrive at the exact moment the Witch King is about to ride through the gate of Minas Tirith. If Faramir hadn’t delayed Mordor’s army, the Rohirrim would have showed up to a conquered city.

Denethor believed that it was necessary to send Faramir to Osgiliath… and he was right! But the pain of being responsible for Faramir’s death was too great for him to bear. You can say that his craving for information killed him, but it’s just as accurate to say that his love for Faramir killed him.

Gandalf tells Denethor’s servants that they were “caught in a net of warring duties,” and this is also true of Denethor. His duty as a father conflicts with his duty as the leader of Gondor, and the strain destroys him.

It may be true that Denethor’s need for control is a character flaw, but I wonder about his final use of the palantir. His son appears to be dying: why does he leave his side to go look in the palantir? I actually think this was a hopeful act: Denethor was hoping to see the Rohirrim, or some kind of good news about the war, some indication that Faramir’s death would not be in vain. But the palantir shows him that he sent his son to die for nothing.

It’s the tragedy of Denethor lamenting “I sent my son forth, unthanked, unblessed, out into needless peril” and dying before he can learn that the battle wasn’t needless… you can’t reduce this tragedy to a morality play!

Okay, I can’t deny that the palantir is a very topical analogy for the internet/smartphones/the tyranny of “data” in general.

But Denethor is so much more than a blackpilled internet doomer, and I will defend him forever.

[night-raven-tattler]

What's your ideal type?

Summary: What would be the best traits for their potential partner to have?

A/N: I didn't want to leave Lilia out of the series even though I only write platonic relationships with him, so I wrote about his ideal friend instead. Enjoy!

Characters: Diasomnia dorm (Malleus, Sebek, Silver) x GN!Reader (separate, romantic), Lilia and GN!Reader (platonic)

Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Malleus' ideal type would be...

Someone who playfully teases him. Malleus can be quite a tease himself, and enjoys seeing people squirm under his playful eyes. While he knows how it feels to be at the receiving end of that treatment thanks to Lilia, he'd still get surprised if you reciprocate.

Someone who can see beauty in the desolate. Being the goth king-to-be that he is, Malleus' tastes tend to gravitate towards darker aesthetics: abandoned buldings, antiques, vintage paintings and furniture, gargoyles... He can't help but be slightly upset when people mistake a grotesque for a gargoyle, but he's amazed when you correct them before he gets to.

Someone who can enjoy grand gestures. It's possible it is a byproduct of him being a prince, but Malleus and words such as "subtle" or "small" are from different worlds. He just wants to shower you with the best offerings to show his attention. Maybe his desire to put valuables with you is because dragons tend to hoard treasure?

Someone who isn't afraid to call him out on things. Malleus is many things: powerful, wise, capable and kind. But he's also stubborn, prideful and has a tendency to do things first and ask later. When he unintentionally crosses your boundaries, tell him. When he plans to do something before asking, tell him. Don't be his yes man. He'll respect you immensely for calling him out. After all, you ability to treat him like any other student is what drew him to you in the first place.

『••✎••』

Lilia's ideal friend would be...

Someone who appreciates cooking. Lilia is a creative person, and it really shows in his cooking (for better or for worse). While eating his food is... a bit of a challenge, your interest would not go unnoticed. Who knows, maybe enough interest would have him allow you join him for a cooking session! A perfect opportunity to stop him from being too creative.

Someone who can take his jokes and pranks. What can I say, Lilia loves having a good laugh, even if sometimes comes at the expense of pulling a prank or two. While harmless, his pranks can be annoying. Take them on as a challenge, and you'll never find your slippers again, or you will have all of your mugs laid on your kitchen floor face down once every 17 mornings. Depends on you if you find that fun or not.

Someone who gets along with Silver and Malleus. His sons are his pride and joy, no matter what. While Lilia knows that sometimes people just don't fit well together, he can recognise effort when he sees it. If you want that spot at the dinner table, you have to get along with his family first.

Someone who can still love the world, despite any hardships. Lilia has lived on this earth for long and faced heartbreak after heartbreak, uncertainty and grief. His healing is not over, and that's okay. He'll appreciate you talking to him about how the would doesn't suck that badly after all.

『••✎••』

Sebek's ideal type would be...

Someone who respects Malleus and Lilia. If you want any chance of even getting along with Sebek, you have to pay your respects to two of the people he respects the most. While you don't have to kiss the ground they walk on, a few nods of approval during Sebek's endless speeches about their glory and superiority would not go unnoticed.

Someone who likes praising him. I'm not saying Sebek is easily swayed by praise, but he'd be joyous to hear how well he's doing. He's a dedicated guard with perfect scores at school and a will strong enough to move mountains. While the praise directed at him would be something he's not really accustomed to, he'd stop trying to redirect the praise towards Malleus soon enough.

Someone who challenges him. Sebek is not the most agreeable person, but he's always open to learning and improving himself. He's just very, very stubborn. You don't have to dismantle his whole ideology about humans or anything like that. Instead, just give him the puzzle pieces: he'll enjoy the challenge to figure out your thought process while trying to prove you wrong. Whatever the outcome is, Sebek will always come out of the other side with a newfound respect for you.

Someone who can teach him how to be gentle. Yes, Sebek is loud, extra and arrogant. But, above all, he wants to do right by his loved ones. If you can teach him how to come from a place of compassion and genuine goodwill instead of having him default on his aggresive demeanor, he'd be quite amazed with you. His job was never to be kind and gentle, but he can still be those things while protecting the people around him. He'll treasure everything you'll teach him, and he'll hold you in his heart close to his idols.

『••✎••』

Silver's ideal type would be...

Someone who respects Malleus and Lilia. While Silver is not the type to sing their praises during every moment of the day, he respects his liege and his father more than anything. He can't have someone disrespect two of the most important people in his life. It's the bare minimum for him if you want him to pay you any mind.

Someone who is earnest. Silver is a kind and sweet boy. His help and advice are always genuine. His dedication to protect the people he loves come from a desire to pay back the goodwill of the people in his life. He might not notice when people don't have the most genuine intentions, but he can tell when you are a nice person, especially to the people around him. His wariness will quickly dwindle, and he will warm up to you in no time.

Someone who knows when to nudge him awake and when to let him sleep. Silver dislikes how often he falls asleep during the day, and has a lot of guilt from not being to stay awake. He really takes note of how people react when he falls asleep near them or when they wake him up. Even though he still feels very helpless against his curse, if you still treat him just the same then he'd feel the littlest bit less guilty about it.

Someone who shows him he's enough. Above all else, Silver believes in paying back the kindness he has received from the world. He works very hard, harder than needed. Sometimes he needs to be sat down and told that he is doing enough. He is enough. It will not change his hard working nature overnight, but acknowledging his efforts sure makes him feel like he's going in the right direction.

[cobaltperun]

i have a request if possible ? for a tara carpenter x reader , or any jo character as you see fit , but in my head , it’s always been tara and no gf au-

so basically , if you’re familiar with 5 seconds of summer , every time i listen to them (their self titled album, specifically heartbreak girl) i always come up with like scenarios of r, mindy, amber and wes being 5sos basically and having r write that song about tara and how she’s always calling/texting r about the problems she’s having with chad without realizing that r is in love with her

which ofc leads r to go to amber, mindy and wes to write that song together and having them preform at a local bar/club or something because they’re locally known and tara, sam, chad and the rest of the friend group is in the crowd, being supportive- but once they hear the song , they immediately know who it’s about and just look at tara awkwardly , and- that’s as far as i’ve gotten

Heartbreak Girl

Tara Carpenter x gn!Reader (Request)

First of all, thank you for the request, it kind of just flowed out and here it is. I went with gender-neutral Reader since you didn't specify the gender. I hope you'll enjoy reading this.

Masterlist

Word count: 2.7k

"I know I should have seen it coming, but it still hurts, you know? I still love Chad, I just can't get over him," she sobbed, and you stopped pacing around your room to lean back and rest your head against the wall. You knew the story, you heard it from Tara countless times, and you may have heard it from Mindy even before Tara told you, mostly because Mindy got a bit pissed that Chad would end his relationship with Tara like that. Tara and Chad were in a relationship, they worked the summer job together and met Liv. Chad fell in love and broke up with Tara. The rest was history, and Tara, sharing Chad's circle of friends, and still being in love with him, couldn't move on.

One time Tara told you she figured it would be easier if he cheated on her. He didn't. He just sat down with her one day and said how he felt. Two weeks later Chad and Liv went on their first date and the circumstances kept Tara and Chad as somewhat friends.

"I'm sorry for being a bother, Y/N," she must have noticed your silence.

"You're not being a bother, Tara, I just don't know what to say that I already didn't tell you before," you bit your bottom lip, knowing full well you were lying. You knew what you wanted to say. You wanted to tell her you loved her, that in her heartbreak she kept breaking your heart too. Another sob made you speak before you could think things through. "Let's go out, just the two of us," you suggest, realizing too late what you were saying. "As friends, of course, just to get your mind off of everything," you quickly backtracked, hoping the explanation was sufficient enough, hoping she couldn't hear the nervous tapping of your foot against the floor, or the crack in your voice when you said 'friends' or anything else that could give you away.

Because, as much as you loved her, as much as you wanted to be with her, you didn't want to push her into another relationship when she was vulnerable and still heartbroken. You also didn't want to be her way of getting over Chad and nothing more. And you absolutely didn’t want to take advantage of her emotional turmoil.

"I'd love to, Y/N," it sounded like she stopped crying, thought she still sniffled a bit. "Thanks for being my friend and always being there to cheer me up," her words, even if you just encouraged them yourself, still hurt you.

"Don't mention it, I'm here for you," you brushed it off, subconsciously hoping maybe, just maybe, she'd realize how you feel on her own. You had no idea how mixed the signals you were sending her looked every now and then. In less than a minute you went from proclaiming friendly hanging out to promising to be there for her. "When do you want to meet up?"

Tara paused for a moment. "I'll call you tomorrow at ten to figure that out. Is that okay?"

You nodded and then frowned when you realized a moment later you were on the phone with her. "Of course."

And so you said your goodbyes, and you just slumped into the chair and dropped your head down to the table. A bit recklessly you tossed the phone to the bed on your side and silently expressed gratitude that it didn't hit the wall or drop to the floor. You sighed and placed your hands over your head, feeling like you were stuck in a never-ending cycle with Tara Carpenter.

Against your better judgment, you grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and began writing.

~X~

The friend date went well, better than you imagined it would and you and Tara hung out an hour longer than either of you anticipated. It was a nice change of pace and for a moment you actually convinced yourself you didn't feel anything romantic for her. For a moment, you were reminded of simpler times, when Tara really was just a friend in your eyes. That time was a long time ago, but sometimes you wished you could go back to that, at the very least everything was much simpler back then.

The paper waiting for you at your table broke that illusion and you grabbed your guitar, maybe you had something here after all. As you sat down to try different tunes you sent a message to the band, Mindy, Wes, and Amber, asking to meet up tomorrow for an additional practice.

~X~

The four of you met up in your garage where you kept your instruments, the guitars, and drums, anything else you needed you would just rent out for a couple of days. You were still a local band, so renting still saved you money.

"Let me see if I got everything right. You," Amber pointed at you, almost accusingly. "wrote this song about Tara and you don't want to confess how you feel?" she asked incredulously.

"Come on, it's not that obvious," you defended yourself and pointed at a line in the song. "See? Chad didn't exactly treat her bad, he just broke up with her."

"Yeah, sure, one line is going to convince everyone it isn't about Tara," Mindy added sarcastically and threw her arms up. "It's there for the dramatic effect, Y/N! Remember?" well, yeah, but still, were you really that obvious?

"She got you there," Wes wasn't helping.

You picked up your guitar and began playing the tune you thought would work well with the song. "Listen, I think we got something good here," you tried to focus on the song itself. "Regardless of who it was written for," you muttered.

"You're kidding, right? A sad tune? You're making this a ballad? No way," Mindy went to her drums. "This needs more energy," judging by the tone of her voice she wasn't budging on this. Well, at least she was on board.

"We are totally adding 'Thanks for being a friend' to the lyrics," Amber teased and you just groaned and buried your face in your hands.

"Don't forget being a sucker for anything Tara does," Wes joined in, causing all three of them to laugh at you.

"You're the worst," you muttered, too embarrassed to look at them. As it was the song that maybe could have passed as, you know, not absolutely obvious, might as well be named ‘Tara’ with how specific it was turning out to be.

~X~

Over the next month and a half, you and Tara fell into a bit of a habit. The first two weeks she continued sobbing, and you'd ask her to hang out. The week after that she just complained and you still asked her to hang out. The past few weeks she rarely even mentioned Chad during your calls, but she still insisted you were friends.

Honestly, just the fact that she seemed to be moving on as weeks went by mended your own heart. Somewhere along the line, you found out you were fine with the way things were. In a relationship or as friends, you wanted Tara in your life.

You walked her to her house, the backs of your hands occasionally brushing as you walked. The accidental touches became something both of you were comfortable with, as neither of you moved away from each other.

"You'll be performing tomorrow night, right?" Tara asked out of the blue.

You glanced at her and your eyes met. "Yeah. Are you going to come?" it wouldn't be the first time Tara would be in the crowd. Tara, Sam, Chad, Danny, Anika, and Liv were all supportive of your band, so they regularly came to your performances.

"You're not really asking that, are you? Of course, I'm going to come," she lightly jabbed your arm. "Besides, Mindy might have told me you guys have a new song you'll be performing for the first time in front of a crowd."

That little traitor. You cleared your throat to buy yourself a few extra seconds to get it together.

With the way things were going between you and Tara, you were almost tempted to scrap the song, but the other three voted against it. "No pressure then, it's not like we haven't had a new song in almost four months now," what could you say, it was a bit of a drought period as far as creativity went.

Tara laughed and just for a moment you thought you saw something else in her eyes, something similar to the way you would so often look at her. "You'll do great," she offered a much-needed encouragement as the two of you stopped in front of her house.

"Guess this is it for tonight," you smiled at her.

"Mhm, I'm glad I was the one to ask you out tonight, as friends, of course," she took a step closer and tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. And then you froze when she got on her tiptoes and kissed your cheek. "Thank you, for always being there for me," somehow, this time she omitted the friend part.

"I," you cleared your throat once more. "did say I'd be here for you, didn't I?" you tried to brush it off as you usually did for months now.

The intensity of Tara's gaze captured all of your attention and for a moment you even considered leaning in. You didn't though, you weren't sure she felt the same, or that she actually moved on.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then?" she asked, lowering her gaze to your lips before quickly looking away.

You noticed it, and you wondered if Tara could hear how loud your heart was drumming in your chest. "Y-yeah," you finally stepped back from her, and the tension you were trying so hard to ignore began fading.

~X~

Tara pretty much threw herself on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. What was wrong with her? Falling in love with you so quickly and almost out of nowhere. Especially when you so explicitly insisted on hanging out as friends. Perhaps you were insisting too hard to cover your own feelings? A girl could hope, right?

She turned her playlist on, hoping to find some peace in music. As if to spite her, the first song that played was Brian Fallon's You Have Stolen My Heart and she nearly chucked her phone into a wall. Groaning she turned around and tucked herself into a blanket. It was entirely your fault. With your charming smile and clumsy mixed signals, she could never get a good read on them.

~X~

You were amazing on that improvised stage, just mesmerizing to watch and listen to and Tara found herself falling even harder. She also found herself ignoring Sam's teasing smile.

"Thank you, thank you! You are too kind! We'll wrap up the night with a premiere of our new song!" Wes yelled, hyping up the crowd.

"Let's hear an applause for Heartbreak Girl!" Mindy demanded, encouraging the crowd to interact with the four of you.

Tara was pulled to her feet by Anika and they both cheered. The name of the song, however, made Tara's heart skip a beat. Or was it the way you looked at her from the stage?

"You call me up, it's like a broken record, saying that your heart hurts. That you'll never get over him getting over you, and you end up crying. And I end up lying, 'cause I'm just a sucker for anything that you do," you sang, your eyes never leaving Tara's. It felt like there was no one else in the club but the two of you. But you weren't alone, and Tara felt the awkward stares directed at the back of her head.

Did you actually write a song for her?

"And when the phone call finally ends, you say "Thanks for being a friend" and I'm going in circles again and again," now she had no doubt, that the song really was about her. She stopped cheering and just stood there, taking the lyrics in.

She saw you hesitating, probably since you noticed her reaction, and she just smiled. You smiled back and continued.

"I dedicate this song to you, the one who never sees the truth, that I can take away you hurt, Heartbreak girl. Hold you tight straight through the daylight, I'm right here, when you gonna realize that I'm your cure, Heartbreak girl?" did you...? Were you saying what she thought you were saying?

She wasn't reading this wrong, was she?

"I bite my tongue, but I wanna scream out, you could be with me now. But I end up telling you what you wanna hear, but you're not ready. And it's so frustrating, he treats you so bad and I'm so good to you, it's not fair," her heart skips a beat as you continue, quoting the promise to call you tomorrow at ten and once again singing the chorus.

"I know someday it's gonna happen, and you'll finally forget the day you met him. Sometimes I'm so close to confession, I gotta get it through your head, that you belong with me instead," the look in your eyes, the eyes that told her 'This is it, I can't take it back now' it vanquished any doubt she may have had about how you felt.

She just wondered how long you felt that way about her without saying anything? Definitely before you first asked her to hang out as friends, but how long before that? And she felt like apologizing, for not noticing how you felt, for leaning on you for support even if it hurt you as well. And at the same time she fell even harder, because you were there for her even with everything you were feeling you were giving her all the time she needed.

~X~

The moment you ended the song and without any idea where the sudden boldness was coming from you jumped down from the stage and went over to Tara. You took a few deep breaths as you closed the distance and offered her your hand, the guitar still in your other hand.

Yeah, you didn't quite think that through.

Tara raised an eyebrow, clearly looking at the guitar, but then shrugged and took your hand.

"Uh, what now?" you asked sheepishly.

"Isn't that something you were supposed to figure out? Before you jumped down and came over?" she gave you a cheeky, teasing smile.

"I didn't think I'd get this far," you admitted, causing Tara to laugh.

"Just go behind the stage dumbass!" Mindy yelled, with the microphone still on. "And leave the guitar there while you're at it!"

You lowered your head and winced, trying to hide the embarrassment clearly visible on your face. Tara wasn't doing much better as she quickly pulled you behind the stage to escape the teasing.

You packed the guitar as both of you took time to compose yourself and catch a breath. "I really didn't think this through, did I?" you asked.

"No," Tara sat down on the chair near you. "You really didn't," she was fiddling with the loose thread on her shirt.

"I meant it, the song. Well, at least when I wrote it a month and a half ago," you decided to just be honest with her.

Tara raised her head to look at you, you could see hopefulness and uncertainty in her gaze. "What changed?"

You approached and sat down next to her. "I don't think you are still heartbroken," you took her hand.

Tara smiled. "I'm not. I'm in love with a clumsy musician that sucks at flirting," she leaned closer to you.

"Hey, it worked," you closed the distance, capturing her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. "Mhm, how about we go on a proper date then?" she asked when the kiss ended and you couldn't think of any better idea.

[nuninho2000]

what's your opinion to all weasleys?

Well , let's start with the parents:

Arthur: I like Arthur, i really enjoy his fascination with everything related to Muggles, it reminds of those kinds of scientists, explorers and collectors on whatever are things found in Nature and then takes home with observing and studying , he's a great role model father that is caring, understanding but can be put his kids in their place when enough is enough and his relationship with Harry and Hermione and the way he takes care and watches over then is really underrated

Molly : I like Molly too , she's the definition of what a realistic mother looks like , she's not a perfect mother but always is trying her best and what's her kids to shine and have success especially in school, sure she can be a nag sometimes with her overprotective side but she is the best mother than you could ask for , in some ways she reminds my own mom and the way she welcomed Harry and show he's part of the family is good

Bill : I like him , he's a very cool old brother that has a cool job and is that kind of brother that everyone loves and the brothers friends look up to , he's a good looking and stylish guy that is patient and helpful, i love his relationship with Fleur and i think are great pair

Charlie: he's the Weasley sibling that we have less showing but just like Bill we can see that people love him especially his teammates from Quidditch like Oliver Wood , his work with dragons always fascinated me because i love dragons and the thought of him working on dangerous job is really badass

Percy; unpopular opinion but i like Percy's character arc and appreciate his development from a snobbish person and is a student role model who is ambitious and wants more , his ambition got the better of him and act really bad during book 5 the way he spoke to his father and how he was ashamed of him , ignoring his mother Christmas present was out of line, to be honest I don't blame him that much for not trusting Harry because despite knowing him they don't get along but the main reason why Percy sided with the ministry was because of the promotion and his ambition got the better of him and when was finally reveal that Voldemort returned and Harry was right all along his pride didn't make go apologise to his family and he had it coming when his siblings ignored him and twins and Ginny throwing food at him but i was really he came around in the end and finally apologised, made amends and fought in the battle of Hogwarts side his family

Fred Weasley : smart person and was a talented wizard that was a great duo with twin brother George, his death was really sad not only because he died next with Percy when everything was alright between them and the fact he died with a smile is heartbreaking and fitting his character

George Weasley: I like him , i think in terms of personality i like him more than his brother Fred , he's a great mastermind and was the best Quidditch player among the twins, i love how protective he is with Harry especially in book 2 when Harry said he would do anything to get the golden snitch and even got mad at Oliver for it , along with Ginny consolidated Ron when he thought his rat was killed

I find it so relatable he gave his pass away brother's name to his son because my name is a tribute to my dead uncle that i didn't know but from the people that knew him said he was a wonderful person

Ron : he's my favourite Weasley character and one of the characters i like the most in the series and he's in my top 10 HP favourite characters, he's brave , funny, smart, passionate, loyal, lovely person and a character that i have a ton of respect for .

He's the best friend that any person likes to have and the best friend and company that someone like Harry and Hermione should have , without him the Golden Trio wouldn't be complete and we readers couldn't have a better person to show us how the Wizarding World works .

Ginny: the lovely girl who conquered the heart of our beloved protagonist and his soulmate.

What can i say about Ginny? The shy girl that wasn't exactly shy had a good growth throughout the series and showed how brave and reckless she could be by fighting against the possession of a memory of Tom Riddle with 11 years old and hang on until it became inevitable, fought against her own trauma, had many friends, was popular, become a Quidditch player which was dream considering that use to practice without her brothers consenting and notice but the peak was when her wishes and dreams became real when the love of her life and soulmate kiss her in front of many people and started dating, unfortunately and was necessary she understood when Harry broke up with her not because he stopped loving her but to protect her .

With Harry, Ron and Hermione haunting for Horcruxs she alongside Neville and Luna restarted the DA and fought against the Carrow and tried to steal the sword of Gryffindor and fought in the battle of Hogwarts .

After the battle she and Harry rapidly started dating again, got married and had 3 wonderful kids and she realised her dream of becoming a Quidditch player for 4 years and then started to write about sports after retirement.

I love the Weasley family, what's not like, right?

[bwat5-blog]

**Spoilers for all of Arcane**

A detailed refuting of the concept that "Vi is the Jinx"

So what are people saying when they make these accusations regarding Vi’s character? Well the only way I can think to take it is people are saying she is the cause of their misfortune and suffering. The cause of her loved ones demise, and the driving factor in the darkness and pain of their universe. No facet of the show supports this as I will explain below.

I have written about this extensively in a variety of posts. I am not unaware of this. I am also not unaware of the fact that ultimately, people are free to consume/enjoy/interpret this wonderful and heartbreaking story in any manner they see fit. What I aim to do here is an in-depth, detailed examination of the primary negative occurrences in the story, and given the information we are given demonstrate that Vi is not the issue. Why? Because I am continuing to champion understanding and literacy of one of the best stories/tv shows we have been blessed with in my lifetime. For any of you who are patient and kind enough to read this. It will be quite long, and it will likely repeat some content from other posts, but I believe that for those of us who love incredible storytelling, standing up for those stories that are worth it matters. To those who take the time, thank you. Continue to stand up for the importance of stories that live in you long after they are over.

Season 1: Act 1-

The absolutely vital thing to remember is that although this is the beginning of the story for us, we are in joining these characters just before the dynamite goes off that will shatter their world. Below is a list of factors that should be noted regarding this idea:

Vander and Silco's long running conflict, with Silco waiting for his opportunity to strike

Years and years of oppression and hostility between Zaun and Piltover

Jayce already being well into his hex-tech research (which as we will come to learn was being helped along by space jesus Victor even then)

The long developing of shimmer and machinations of Singed

The situation is a powder keg. Years of hostility and oppression, a brilliant and calculating criminal mind waiting in the shadows for his moment to seize control, an idealistic young scientist with no idea of the danger he is dabbling in, and a brilliant scientist utterly devoid of morals in the service of his goals. By the time we join our characters the ship is already sinking, we just don't know it yet. Now taking that into consideration, lets dive in.

The Explosion at the Lab: This is undoubtedly the driving force of Act 1 in terms of the incident and its effects. Keeping things simple, below you will find a bare bones list of all the negative effects in act 1 that can be attributed to this incident not considering blame or fault:

Death of Milo, Clagger and we are lead to assume Vander

Separation of Vi and Power and by extension, the birth of Jinx

Trial of Jayce Talis and by extension, his partnering with Victor, leading to the true birth of hex tech

Deaths of Grayson and Benzo, allowing Marcus to take Grayson's place as Silco's corrupt sheriff

Silco seizes control of the lanes and all of the negatives that come with it (shimmer, violence etc)

Now at a glance, its easy to say "See! These things only happen because of the explosion, and the explosion happens because Vi takes the kids there. So Vi is the issue!". This is extraordinarily simplistic thinking to the point of willfully ignoring the context. Lets delve deeper:

Order of events as we understand them:

Jayce Talis enters the undercity, purchasing equipment for his research. He interacts with Echo.

Echo tells Vi and friends about the lab after following Jayce

The kids go on their heist, causing the explosion

Jayce is locked up and put on trial, being banished and having his research taken

Enforcers enter the under-city causing conflict over series of days

Vi tries to turn herself in but Vander takes her place

Silco uses Shimmer mutant to murder Grayson and Benzo and take Vander

Jayce and Victor become partners taking Hex-Tech into the next phase

Vi, Milo and Clagger make rescue attempt ending in death of the two boys, vander, and the separation from Powder leaving her vulnerable to become Jinx.

Accusations people make from this information:

Vi got Vander, Clagger, Milo, Benzon and Greyson killed

Vi is responsible for hex-tech because the explosion she caused pushed Victor and Jayce together

Vi makes Jinx because she hits powder, yells at her, and calls her a Jinx

Since Vi got Vander killed she is the reason Silco is able to take the Lanes and flood them with Shimmer and so on

Responses:

Vi is the reason for hex-tech: This is quite simply untrue. Jayce is well into his research when this incident occurs. In fact when he is found out he insists he has almost cracked it. Victor is Heimerdinger's (the leader of the city and a preeminent scientist who already knows Jayce personally) assistant and a scientist with self-admitted ambition to become more. Not to mention their wealthy benefactor in Mel who is looking to make a name for herself and finances them. Now sure you could make the argument that the explosion is what draws attention to hex-tech bringing Mel into the equation. But Mel by her own admission is searching for that way to earn her place in the world and Jayce was absolutely going to keep going. This was a matter of when, not if. And every single person involved bears more responsibility than the girl in her early-mid teens who had no idea it was there when she lead her family on an adventure trying to feed them.

Vi makes Jinx: I have covered this extensively and if you are reading this that means my writing doesn't bore you to death so you have probably read my thoughts already. So i'll try to keep this brief. Silco made Jinx. The grieving teenage girl who had just watched her whole family die violently and barely survived herself lashing out at her sister in a moment she clearly immediately regrets is not to blame here. The broken man/crime lord taking that shattered little girl and weaponizing her grief and guilt is to blame. and if you want to say it's Vi's fault for leaving Powder in the first place. She defends Powder to everyone. She tells Powder she believes in her and that her gadgets will work. She tells Powder her differences make her strong. She only leaves Powder behind after being lectured by Vander on her responsibility to keep her safe, and after seeing the horror of the shimmer mutant unleashed.

Vi is the reason Milo, Clagger, Benzo, Grayson and Vander are dead: Each of these characters is dead because of one person. Silco. Milo, Clagger and Vander all die during the rescue mission of Vander from Silco's hideout. Sure the explosion Powder sets off is what kills the boys, but they are only in this mess because Silco took advantage of the chaos to kidnap Vander drawing them there. Vi's part in this is fighting for her life against multiple armed adult thugs even though she isn't even grown yet. Silco stabs Vander and Vander sacrifices himself taking Shimmer to try and get Vi out. Benzo is dead after verbally confronting Silco, and Grayson is murdered as an opportunity for Silco to install Marcus as his puppet.

Vi is the reason Silco can take control: This is really just an extension of everything we just discussed. This is quite frankly silly. Silco has been waiting for years. He has an army, weapons, and most importantly Shimmer. Which brings us to Singed. A brilliant scientist utterly devoid of Morals who manufactures this substance turning the downtrodden people of Zaun into Silco's monsters.

Conclusion- Yes, Vi leads them on the heist which causes the explosion and the related ripples. But she is not to blame. The tragedy that unfolds is the result of years of suffering in the under city, the machinations of a crime lord so secure in his convictions he will harm anyone he deems necessary, and the innocent overreach of a young scientist who brought forth the end of the world in his dream of improving lives. Vi may be the deer that walks out in front of the car. But the driver is drunk and angry, the mechanic he just left cut his breaks, and years of neglect by the city have left the roads broken and jagged making everything worse. Vi is not the perpetrator, she is just another victim

Season 1: Act 2-

Act 2 of season 1 sees a very different world for our characters. Vi has been imprisoned for seven years. And in those seven years Vi's sweet, clever little sister Powder has become the feared notorious criminal Jinx. Silco has risen to power, smuggling shimmer with the assistance of the corrupt sheriff of Piltover and conducting his operations under the sheriff's protection. Hex-Tech has become globalized. And the firelights have risen in opposition to Silco.

The Hunt For Jinx Begins: The driving conflict in this act is Jinx's attack on the city, theft of the hex gemstone, and the hunt for her that leads to Caitlyn and Vi's mission.

In this act, there is much less for people to try and link to Vi in terms of trouble but for a barebones look at the various conflicts:

Jinx attacking the firelights, enforcers, and stealing the gem

Hex Tech development into the Hex core, and the ousting of Heimerdinger when he protests

Jinx mental turmoil ratchets up in the discovery of Vi being alive and their reunion

Accusations:

Vi made Jinx, so Vi is responsible for Jinx's crimes

Vi caused Hex tech, so every progression toward the bad thing we know is her fault

Vi's reentry into Jinx's life and trying to help her be Powder again makes everything worse

Responses:

Vi made Jinx so she is responsible for her crimes: No she didn't. No she isn't. see above

Vi caused Hex Tech so every progression is on her: No she didn't. See above.

Vi's reentry into jinx's life and trying to help her be Powder makes it worse: Vi spent every day for seven years hoping and dreaming of finding her sister again. When she does and jinx tells her she is different and "did things" Vi does not judge her or shame her and welcomes her back as family. When Vi is taken driving Jinx further into that mental darkness its's against Vi's will after being knocked out by firelights

Conclusion: This act is the result of the changes all brought into the world at the end of the first act. So not much to discuss. Primarily as Vi did not make Jinx, her sister's crimes are not on here. Not that that will stop her from feeling guilty since Vi has a good heart and loves her sister.

Season 1: Act 3-

Act 3 primarily deals with forcing Vi to see that her sister is not who she was, through the "Dinner Party" and the attempted and failed making peace with Zaun. In terms of Vi, there isn't much new here to discuss in terms of what people are trying to blame her for. Anything Jinx does is blamed on Vi for the erroneous statement that Vi made Jinx, including by Jinx herself. Its important to remember at this point Jinx is giving her own sister the choice between killing Caitlyn or "Getting Powder Back". There is no getting Powder back. This is Jinx at a peak of manic and aggressive behavior. Her blaming Vi is a way to cope and hurt someone besides herself. There are however important developments that will be extremely relevant to this entire conversation moving forward into Season 2:

With Singed's help they progress hex-tech into the hex core and we also see the hex core kill for the first time.

Ambessa's arrival

Jinx's killing of Silco and murder of three Piltover council members moments from Zaun being given independence.

**Vi's guilt over stopping Caitlyn from hurting Jinx only to then witness Jinx kill Caitlyn's mother is a very important moving forward, but we must remember Vi is a young woman in her early twenties in a terrifying situation trying to keep her sister and the woman she loves from killing each other**

Conclusion for season 1: So quick recap. Vi did not make Jinx. She is in no way responsible for Hex Tech. She is not responsible for any of Silco's actions and she is has been victimized and hurt by most of it.

Season 2: Act 1-

Season 2 picks up in the immediate aftermath of Jinx's attack. Vi is in the terrible position of grieving the loss of who her sister was, guilt over not being able to stop her sister in general, and IMMENSE guilt as her sister killed the woman she love's mother. I'm not going to repeat myself in terms of Hex-tech or Jinx related guilt unless its needed for new context.

Ending the First Hunt for Jinx: This act is primarily the conclusion of Vi and Caitlyn hunting Jinx together in terms of Vi' story and in terms of what fans are trying to lay at Vi's feet there isn't much here. Primarily there is a lot of talk over her decision to put on the uniform of the enforcer and what the strike team does while she is on it.

The Accusation: Vi putting on the uniform is a betrayal of her people and her family

Response: I have addressed this in depth in another document so will try to spare you all the rant. Put simply, The use of the grey was morally questionable. That is not debatable. But it's not fatal like people make it out to be, as we see characters exposed who walk away unharmed other than some discomfort. Vi explains to Jinx it was to keep innocents off of the street during the fighting. And in terms of putting on the uniform itself, some things to remember:

She refused the first time

Piltover retaliation was already guranteed. Then after the attack on the memorial it was exacerbated.

Caitlyn shares she is afraid if she goes after Jinx alone one of them is coming back in a box (AKA Vi's worst nightmare)

Only agrees after the memorial attack and sends everyone but her and Cait away as soon as they find Jinx

Conclusion: Vi was between a rock and a hard place and did the best she could in an impossible situation

Season 2: Act 2-

Act 2 of season 2 finds Vi at her lowest point. She has lost everyone. Jinx seems totally beyond redemption and her beloved Caitlyn, the first person to show her kindness in seven years left her after hitting her and telling her she was no better than the woman who had killed Caitlyn's mother and so many others.

The Primary sources of conflict in this act are: The finding and losing of Vander (included within this is Vi and Jinx starting to become family again), Caitlyn's redemption, Victor's losing himself to the hex tech/arcane completely.

Of these sources of conflict none of them can be laid at Vi's feet. But to tally the losses since the "Vi is the Jinx" people are still holding on to this:

The loss of Vander again-

The death of Isha-

The "death" of Victor and his cult

Accusations:

*disclaimer I have not seen anyone saying these specifically. Just tracking the logic for the people trying to blame her for everything*

Vi got Vander killed again-

Vi got Isha Killed-

Vi got Victor and his cult killed-

Response:

Vi got vander killed- Vander was "killed" again due to the attack by Ambessa and interference of Singed who was willing to sacrifice him for his own goals. The only part Vi played was having to watch her father die. AGAIN.

Vi got Isha killed- see above but swap father for little girl.

Vi got Victor and his cult killed- Jayce killed Victor on Victor's orders (weird time is relative cosmic stuff) but nothing to do with Vi

Conclusion: Vi's story sees her at her lowest point in this act. absolutely devastating to see her smile during that brief moment of happiness before its all ripped away. But none of what she loses is her fault

Season 3: Act 3-

This is the big finale and this act has been the primary driving factor in this idea that Vi was the problem all along. For those of you have stuck with me this far I appreciate you more than you know and hope this has been worth your time to read. Lets dig in.

The Big conflict driving the conclusion of this story is: The war with Ambessa/Victor, The destruction of Hex-Tech before it ends the world, and the fate of Jinx. I have addressed each of these topics throughout this post and will not be laying out the accusations/response/conclusion format. To begin with, we have to talk about the AU Episode-

The AU Episode:

Echo finds himself in a seemingly idyllic Piltover/Zaun. Hextech never was fully realized. Benzo, Milo, Clagger and Vander all live. Jinx is Powder, grown up and happy. Silco and Vander are reconciled. But Vi is dead, the explosion during the heist having taken her life. Powder keeps a shrine to her sister. Vander has a tattoo bearing her name. People have taken this to mean that it was in fact Vi all along that was the issue. This is, in a word, nonsense. The point of this universe in the words of the showrunner himself (see Arcane Afterglow for Season 2 Act 3), is for Echo to see that there is a version of their world still worth fighting for. He sees a world without hex-tech and how things could be. The world is not better without Vi in it. The world is better because Vi's death drew attention to something terrible and dangerous before it went even further. Imagine in our world there some new toy that is shaping up to be very popular with children, until a flaw in its safety is revealed when an innocent child days from an accident involving the toy so the the toy is taken off of the shelves. and children everywhere are safer, the world is better. But it's not because it was that Childs fault or they did something wrong. They were the victim whose blood paid the price.

*Additionally, something I don't see brought up enough is that Heimerdinger had years in this universe before Echo even arrived. He has clearly has been putting the time into the Undercity he didn't in the main universe*

Vi and Jinx: Vi and Jinx both learn a similar lesson in this act. While Jinx learns that she has to walk away, to break the cycle, to stop running in circles, Vi learns she can't keep chasing Jinx trying to save her. She has to live for herself and allow herself to be happy. That's why despite the accusation that she is a bad sister, Vi's romantic encounter with Caitlyn is Vi finally letting herself have what she wants, rather than chasing after Jinx and panicking and spending what could be her last night alive continuing to ride the roller coaster. Instead, she steps off the ride, and allows herself to know love, and pleasure, and warmth with the woman she loves. People really focus on the location of it but in that moment the location was irrelevant. Vi has finally seen the light in this regard and the woman she loves has redeemed herself in Vi's eyes.

*Vi speaks on how she always chooses wrong and it has cost her everyone. People have also taken this as a sort of mission statement for their undeserving campaign against this character. The thing is, the show proves her wrong, and does it quickly:

Caitlyn immediately and passionately shows Vi that Vi has not lost everyone. She is there, she loves here, and knowing she was going to make the choice to free the woman who killed Caitlyn's mother, she does it anyway

Even though Echo seals the deal, Vi didn't choose wrong by believing and trusting in Jinx. Jinx comes back to her, leading the under-city forces and turns the tide of the battle. She was the hero her sister believed she was

Vi got Jinx Killed: And at last we come it. The final of the great injustices people are laying Vi's character. I covered this in a recent post as well but the short version is as follows:

Sees her birth parents killed

Sees her adoptive father die

Gets him back (in a heavily mutated form) for a punishingly short time only to lose him again horribly

Watches him die again.

She is literally standing over him at the end of all the horrible things they have been through, sobbing and going to cradle his head. We see her flashing back to the first time she watched him die. It was just too much. I and many others have said it really seems like she can't even hear Jinx in that moment. When "Vander" pops up to his feet Vi doesn't even fight. She scrambles back afraid saying Vander's name and sounds like a scared little girl who just wants her dad. Its HORRIBLE. And even though she is not dead, Jinx takes the opportunity to make sure the older sister she loves, who never gave up on her gets away.

Vi's ending is bittersweet. She is sitting alone, drinking, humming the song we hear in the beginning of the show. People with no understanding of human behavior have claimed she looks too happy, she doesn't care about her sister. Yes she does. She is finally on a path that can lead to happiness with Caitlyn' because of her sisters sacrifice for her.

[ramblingguy54]

The more I think on it, the more I believe Wild Robot is arguably the perfect Dreamworks' movie for myself.

Roz & Brightbill feeling like outsiders to their respective origins really sells the weight of how truly lost and lonely both are in their pursuit of understanding what to make of it all. Their dynamic being brought together through heartbreaking misfortune is immensely profound. Makes me reflect upon what own my mother went through trying to fit in with her family, but never could. Just as I have always been insecure about trying to figure out my own place, when she brought me into this world and a big family. In retrospect, we both felt "defective" for our own reasons.

Usually, I don't cry often at movies, or anything for that matter, but their internal struggle of acting like a natural mother & son drives a knife through my heart in the best manner. A surreal mirror of my own life struggling to feel okay with being myself. Further reinforcing how much I love my mother went above and beyond to give me a life of happiness, in spite of whatever bumps in the road happened.

"The accident that killed your family saved you. Funny how life works...?"

The Wild Robot's biggest feat, if not one of many, is managing to make all the denizens of this island not feel insanely mean spirited. It is more so capturing that harsh aspect of nature's morbid atmosphere. In this regard, those chances of Brightbill making it as the runt of that litter were practically nonexistent without Roz's unexpected arrival. He likely would've been either killed by nature's intense elements, a lurking predator of some kind, or end with his biological mother giving up on helping him learn to fly. It served to emphasize nature's survival instincts, in contrast to Roz's evolving compassion for Brightbill. No one else wanted to help the poor kid out because all they saw was dead meat, more or less. Even Fink, despite warming up to Brightbill, wanted to eat him right off the bat after coming across his egg.

Brightbill's weak wings weren't psychically capable in achieving normal flight, much less even a full on migration. However, Roz's determination allowed him to be able to survive from winter, just like the rest of his species. It's the beauty of showing kindness, even to those who may or not like you that can inspire emotional growth. Learning to stay optimistic in an unforgiving environment can bring out the best surprises from places you'd least expect it.

"This is my migration. And when it is time I promise I will find my way home."

The Wild Robot's heavily endearing lesson about kindness persevering makes its ending feel entirely earned. The animals don't just get along with each other right off the bat. Almost dying from that terrible winter storm was a serious wake up call they can't rely on being by themselves forever. Survival instincts or not, it's about opening yourself up to the possibility of trusting and relying upon genuine emotions. Much like Brightbill's entire character was learning to accept Roz did genuinely care for his well being as his mother. Tragedy may have created their situation, but it doesn't define whatever comes next in building a heartfelt connection.

Honestly, it's why I believe The Wild Robot is among Dreamworks' very finest stories they've animated to life. Taking basic ideas spicing them up to feel more emotionally introspective about ourselves. Hell, I'd probably place at it the very top of my number one spot in my favorite Dreamworks' content. It seriously affected me in ways I didn't expect. A bold statement to be sure, but that alone should be a damn great enough reason, as far as I'm concerned.

A simple story about parenthood can do wonders. Especially when it's executed in this caliber of writing. Chris Sanders and his team are legends in their own making.

[pompomchihuahua]

Orphans in the Demon Slayer Universe

So we know that the majority of the characters in KNY are orphaned due to demons, but for characters like Tanjirou we know exactly what happened to him following his parents' deaths.

Then we have characters like Genya, who, after his mother was killed and his brother abandoned him, it's left a complete mystery as to what happened to him in the years between that and him joining the Demon slayer corps.

HOWEVER, based on some research I did (which I will link some of the websites I used at the bottom) I can make some guesses at what kind of life Genya likely had between then and now.

Orphans, known as Koji (孤児) were regarded in a very negative light. Orphanages were often crowded and overfull at the time and there was very little interest in building more, meaning there were quite a few children that "fell through the cracks" so to speak. We don't know of any other relatives Genya could have gone to stay with, though it is certainly a possibility, it's one I highly doubt.

So, more than likely, Genya was living forgotten on the streets, something I'd like to explore more in one of my fics.

Many times, orphans left on the streets were rounded up by police and thrown into prison just to get them off the street. Meaning it's highly likely Genya has been in and out of prison and other shelters for a majority of his life. It's even possible he was rounded up and sold for labor purposes at some point only to escape. Many Koji were regarded as furoji, or juvenile vagrants/delinquents, which, fits Genya's overall appearance as the stereotypical "delinquent" type.

The first time we see Genya he's filthy even before starting final selection and his temper is extremely short. In one winged butterfly we get this from Genya: "Genya knew only too well those eyes filled with hatred, impatience, annoyance, and an unfathomable anger and sadness. They had once been his own eyes."

We can only make assumptions about where Genya was and what he was doing before Final Selection but historical context and in show context all serve to paint a truly heartbreaking picture.

Which brings me to the Tokito twins and this question that plagues me: what alternative life did they have ahead of them?

From what I could tell, the Tokito twins were actually doing pretty well for themselves. They were continuing their father's profession and making enough money off that to feed themselves, they had a house and a nearby water source. Were it not for that demon, they may have had a decent life ahead of them given their tragic circumstances.

I will say, I used all this research for fandom purposes, but these were the real experiences of real people and it's truly horrifying to see what the people of the past and, in some cases, today have to live through. I've linked some of the sources I used so if you want to learn more about it you can. Here. Here. Here. And here.

[tellhulla]

It's not even about shipping, sure I ship nandermo but I also ship lazlermo, I never expected them to go canon in the traditional sense, although a confirmation that Lazlo and Guillermo were indeed fuck buddies the same way Lazlo and Nandor are would have been nice and not at all out of character after the co-parenting plot in season 4 and how close they were in season 5 but I digress

Point is, my frustration isn't about my ship(s) not going canon, it's about set up and pay off

They set up a hug between Nandor and Guillermo, we see Nandor rejecting the hug early on the show, we see them growing emotionally closer, we expect a hug, we got none, no pay off

They set up Guillermo having feelings for Nandor but not feeling worth to even express them out loud, much less hope for reciprocatinon because not being a vampire made him less than them in his own eyes, and there was no pay off for that either

I don't expect him to suddenly kiss Nandor with the rising music in the background or ever say the words "I love you" that would be out of character for him, but give us a final talking head of him saying "as for my feelings, well, I'm coping" there, that's enough to be considered pay off, he addresses his feelings to the camera, in a vague sort of way that makes sense for who he is as a character, not even mentioning Nandor's name because being so direct is just not Guillermo's personality but trusting the audience is smart enough to put two and two together, knowing full well that Nandor might see the footage and expecting nothing, a little bittersweet maybe but in line with the show's usual treatment of feelings

I don't expect or even want romance in the traditional sense for them, just let Guillermo be comfortable enough in his own skin to address he feels some kind of way and confident enough he puts it out there, in his own way, without a stutter

They keep setting up Nandor's loneliness, his quest for eternal romance, again no pay off and this is not even about him and Guillermo, if they just had him look around at his roommates, his chosen family and realized he can be and in reality is, satisfied with simply having them, if they had him see he already has everything he was looking for (love, companionship, sex) right here at home and he doesn't need it to look like what other people expect it to look like because just having them in his life makes him happier than a traditional marriage could ever make him, that would have been a satisfying pay off to his story

They had Nandor saying "no human is special", perfect set up for him to admit Guillermo is special to him, and then nothing, no pay off

And again I'm not expecting him to confess his undying love for Guillermo, that would be out of character, but you can't blame the audience for expecting something to come out of that, even just a talking head of him saying he tries to not get attached to humans because they never last, just implying the reason he doesn't want to be emotionally vulnerable when it comes to Guillermo is because he has known for years he wouldn't last as a vampire and is trying to protect himself from the heartbreak by keeping him at arms length but just the fact that he needs to try this hard means he failed and he is already attached

Or one conversation with Lazlo where he backtracks after Guillermo comes back home where he says "maybe you are right, maybe some humans are worth the pain of losing them", there, that's enough pay off to make the majority of the audience happy and satisfied while still keeping it vague like they wanted

They also set up Guillermo wanting immortality but not being fit to be a vampire and Nandor still carrying around the Djinn's lamp, you know, the lamp with the all powerful Djinn who can grant any wish to his master, the lamp Nandor can't use anymore because he ran out if wishes so it is just sitting there, waiting for a new master to rub it and take possession of it, that lamp

Don't those two things look like they should be connected? Like a problem and a solution? Like set up and pay off waiting to happen?

How about Nadja's longing for close female friends and the Guide's longing for belonging? Nadja's stablished willingness to have sex with her friends and the Guide's obvious attraction to her?

And don't get me started on the Guide's crazy backstory that never gets resolved

All those threads and many more (I made a list) just waiting to get picked up again, and they never do anything with them, you can't blame the audience or call us crazy shippers who only care about Nandermo going canon because we express frustration about the lack of pay off

[ladyloveandjustice]

Summer 2024 Anime Overview: Senpai is an Otokonoko

Aoi falls for an older girl, Makoto, and one day she confesses love to her senpai. But then Makoto reveals that he is an otokonoko- a crossdressing boy. Much to Makoto’s surprise, this only increases Aoi’s attraction, as she’s 100 percent supportive of crossdressing and ecstatic about getting to enjoy both the “boy” and “girl” versions of her senpai. Complicating things is Makoto’s best friend Ryuji, who has a huge crush on Makoto even though he won’t admit it to himself.

Meanwhile, Makoto is dealing with an incredibly transphobic mother, so he hides himself at home and lives in fear she’ll find out that he’s crossdressing at school.

This is a sweet, heartfelt, queer show with some very good kids and a lot of sad and happy feels. Prepare for heartstrings to be tugged. I grew very attached to the main trio in various ways,as they all have their own individual struggles related to gender, sexuality and heteronormative society. They're going through it, but they always work to understand and accept each other.

Makoto is obviously the central focus with the Gender of it All, and you see him struggle to navigate a world that sees gender in strict binary terms and tries to limit the ways he can live. The show strikes a good balance in showing the heartbreaking obstacles Makoto deals with but also showing the joy he finds in unexpected acceptance, affirmation, and connection. It’s sad when he tries to force himself to be ‘normal’ but it’s all the more heartwarming when his loved ones support him being who he truly is. A big focus of the show is Makoto trying to figure out if he wants to “live as a girl” as the show puts it, or if his relationship with his gender is something else.

I was surprised at how much I liked Ryuji, he might be my favorite. His struggle with his internalized homophobia and his yearning for Makoto literally made me cry at one point, which is rare for me with media. Plus, he’s just a sweet kid and good friend who puts up a laughably paper-thin "tough" front and you want good things for him. And that’s true for all the characters.

Aoi is a character who starts off as a comedic genki girl, (and to some she even initially came off as a chaser, but as her layers peeled back it becomes clear that’s not the case).  I liked her from the beginning despite her being A Lot but I was concerned she might boil down to the unfailingly Cheerful Girl Who Supports Makoto—but she gains a tremendous amount of depth once her backstory and personal struggles start to unfold.

Honestly, she really resonates with me as an ace person and her storyline seems primed to head in that direction, but I’m not naïve enough to think I’m going to get an actual asexual storyline where we examine how some people simply don’t feel romantic and/or sexual attraction and can still be fulfilled…and yeah, judging from the few spoilers I’ve seen, it’s not about that. It’s a bit disappointing, since it would really fit in with a show so focused on non-heteronormative sexuality, but y’know. We’re used to it. I never expect much. I will be interested in how it unfolds in the movie and hope whatever story they choose will at least be well told.

So basically, the show not only presents a love triangle where not only do you want all of them to be happy (sadly poly will not be the answer) BUT also a love triangle where each person thinks it would be better for their so-called "rival" to end up with their crush because they all love each other and want each other to be happy, but they all think very little of themselves. Amazing. A love triangle that’s truly all love but in the most hurtful way possible.

Aoi, Makoto, and Ryuji’s bond is really the star of the show for me more than any independent relationship and (though if I had to choose the friendship between Aoi and Ryuji is low-key the cutest to me).

There’s not many caveats to this show, obviously it examines transphobia in sometimes heartbreaking ways, and Ryuji’s internalized homophobia can be rough (I wish someone would directly tell him he’s not gross). I did find the pacing to be way too rushed in early episodes, but it evened out as it went on.

For something that’s neither good or bad: one thing that was noticeable about the show is it really avoided any queer terminology, in a way a lot of modern queer manga doesn’t. Again, this isn’t a bad things, and I honestly wouldn’t have noticed if one of the characters hadn’t met an older queer person (which is great! Love it when older queer people help the younger generation and show them they’re not alone)—yet this person doesn’t share any kind of specifics and how they identify is kept ambiguous, though they clearly have been to drag clubs/communities at the very least (as a blink and you miss it thing). In some ways, this might be purposeful, it felt like the story wanted the characters to be applicable to a lot of queer experiences, and one of the main points of the show is Makoto’s uncertainty about his own identity and not feeling comfortable in certain categories. Labels don’t work for everyone.

However, a few more specifics felt like it would help with adding context to some of the characters. Does Ryuji know other gay men exist? Does he think he’s the only one? I honestly have no idea. There is a possibility of these kids getting to know a wider community that seems tantalizing but unlikely to be capitalized on and sometimes the show’s desire to be nebulous about all this can feel like a missed opportunity.

Overall, I think this is a touching, worthwhile show about affirmation and love and the complexities of being queer in a limiting society. And of course that means a bunch of homophobes review bombed it because they apparently just now realized queer stories have always been a big part of anime. Knowing this makes it even clearer that shows like this make an impact and deserve support, and I’m really glad a movie to wrap things up has already been announced.

Give this show a watch, and maybe bring some tissues.

[cryptidcorners]

Suit & Tie - Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader [ 100 Follower Special ]

Description: You've been stood up on a blind date you were deathly excited for. Miserable and smeared with disappointment, you decide to visit Mike to cool your frustrations—though, it looks like you aren't the only one having a hard night.

Media: FNaF!Movie

Character: Mike Schmidt

Tags: 100 Follower Special, Hopeless Romantic!Reader, Rough Night, Fluff, Romantic, Friends to Lovers, Confessions, Lots of Kissing, Sweet Talk, Flirting, Shy/Awkward + Tease!Mike, Slice of Life, Domestic, Mike being a Sweetheart.

No Warnings.

read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist

It was one of the worst nights of your life.

You had fixed yourself a wispy, rich fit for your blind date. As well as saving up enough to pay and have some leftovers to indulge in last-minute activities. Blinded by excitement, you had prepared too much for your own good, and ended up waiting in your booth until after hours. Wrecked with frustration, you began to march outside to hook a taxi driver to drive you home silently. Only to realize a storm you hadn't expected muddied up the roads and made it almost impossible for someone to risk their time for a hopeless romantic like yourself.

So, now you were straying along the lines streets lightly flooded with blankets of darkened rainwater that were filling your shoes and weighting your fabrics. Disaster unveiled within your already distressed twister of a mind, as well as regret and heartbreak. You felt like an oblivious character thrown into the spotlight with a single to be humiliated and ragdolled. You couldn't believe your date had done that. All those bubbly giggles across the phone line, smooth walks in the park. You hugged yourself in an attempt to warm your frosted skin, as well as applying some solo comfort. Hot breaths tunneled out of your throat desperately to challenge your aches, blowing on your timid hands didn't give you a lick of justice. Nor hope.

How badly you wanted to go home and sink into a mindless of blue-screened entertainment from your glitching television to forget everything. To just pass away after all this cruel effort and embarrassment.

Had you really felt so connected to your date? To somebody you'd talk to over a table dressed with scarlet and a vased batch of yellow tulips within the center? Did you think it would work? To click with somebody—it felt so foreign, so alien, so unreal. You hardly knew them, but you still made the glorious effort to fall into available arms at any chance. To be cradled lovingly, to be covered in soft kisses, to be cared for. Would you ever find that?

Your eyes narrowed as tears mixed in with the shower above the black sky. Would you?

As silence crept into your conscience, you heard a voice thorned into your attention. You jolted up, eyes flickering like some startled deer. You wondered if you had imagined it, and your energy halted. 

“—Hey! What are you doing outside?” Your eyes veered towards a tall house, drenched in shadow and fog. It was Mike, calling your name. Suddenly, you felt your heart throb intensely, from not only the sight of him, but from embarrassment. You chewed your lip at the thought of Mike strolling past his dripping windows and seeing your figure, head down getting soaked by the rain. You could draw him being incredibly startled in your head. 

“Hey?” Mike echoed. “You’re soaked! Come—Get over here!” Now knowing you couldn’t ignore his signals to warm hospitality, you sailed across the street. Almost limping as you felt incredibly uncomfortable at the feel of mushy socks growing heavy in your pooled shoes. You huffed, scrambling up the steps to meet Mike’s gaze. His wear was surprisingly lacking that cozy picture you had seen so many times. Instead, he was sharp. Ruffled curls now backed and silky, face lightly shaved and his wear neatly ironed. Your face flushed nervously, “Hey. Hey, how are you?” You sheepishly smiled. It was a pathetic attempt to look grounded, but you couldn’t help yourself. Feeling vulnerable in front of him tugged you in a way you couldn’t explain, as if you had to impress him somehow.

Yet, despite his golden appearance, he looked defeated, and heartbreakingly exhausted. You desperately wanted to kiss his pain away, or see his face light up with that infectious grin you could never mentally shut up about. Mike stepped aside, inviting you inside. “Don’t worry about me just yet. Come inside,” he said and once you entered, Mike unleashed a concern lurking in his mind, “weren’t you supposed to be on a date? A—what’s it called? A blind date?” 

“A blind date.” You confirmed, eyes awkwardly flicked on the mud and storm you were dragging on his hardwood. Mike noticed and stammered quickly, “I can get you a towel, or something. Coffee?” He scrambled quickly to his kitchen, flicking on the light after holding onto your gaze for much longer than he wanted. Before you could speak, you could already hear the flicker of the stove. Mike called over, gripping a bag of coffee beans that was light from great useage. You wanted to deny, but you were too broken to push aside such an offer. With a slim exhale, you answered shyly, “That’d be nice, thank you.” 

As the smell of brew calmed your senses, you relaxed on one of the dining room chairs. Mike turned back to you, smiling, “Right, so. What happened? I thought you wouldn’t be here until midnight?” His gaze hung to the bubbling coffee in the pot, opening up the cabinets to prepare a decorated cup. “Was the date early? Oh, traffic?” 

“No, oh God, no.” You huffed, “I got stood up.” you said casually, and you heard something clatter from the surprise. Mike immediately turned to you, shocked. Without the context, you would probably laugh at his dumbfounded expression. You cleared your throat, “It’s—fine, really. We didn’t even know each other that well,” 

Mike poured the coffee with his eyes occasionally flickering towards you. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” 

“No, really.” Mike approached, “Here–,” and you whispered your thanks. “I just didn’t expect you to get up like that, you know? And you had to walk home? I could drive you back after you get dried up, you know it’s never a problem for me.”

You breathed heavily, “Thanks, Mike. But, I think I’ll be walking home. You’ve already made me coffee.” you humored. “I think I’ll be fine.” Despite the feel your cup resembling cinder against your fingertips, you still swallowed and cringed at the heat. Though, it pumped some warmth through your veins despite lightly damaging your throat.

Then, you felt your skin grow hot as he leaned close to you. “I insist.” Typically, Mike getting close to you wasn't all that rare, it was just something he did. Though, tonight felt different. “I’ve had a rough night too, and me helping you could make us both feel better.” He explained, “Of course, you don’t––you don’t have to. I’m just, suggesting.” Mike pulled away.

You were fond of his quick rambling, so this question was plastered with a smile, “So, what happened to you, handsome?”

“Fired.” He stated.

“What?” You coughed, regretting your playful tone in a flash. “Mike, that’s horrible!” That explained why he looked like that. His gaze washed, “I know, but, I have a lot of other numbers in my cabinet. I could look, they seem to pay well.”

He sat next to you, “It’s not as bad as what happened to you, though. I haven’t even told Abby yet.” Mike sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Mike,” you were shocked. “Don’t compare what went down tonight for you, that’s—terrible, I can’t even grasp how sorry I am for you.” You cleaned your coffee-stained lips. Mike’s eyes had been particularly hyper focused on your expressions, your body language, your lips. Just to name a few. Mike shrugged as you leaned forward slightly, “I guess we didn’t get what we wanted.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” Mike suggested. You were immediately confused, “What do you mean?” you hadn’t realized how quiet everything had gotten. Even the rain pitter patting against the window had no affect, it was only you and Mike. Paired up with your warm breathing. Mike’s eyes, for once, were maintaining contact. “I mean, I can still tell you how I feel. Like, how pretty you are. And how much I wish I could give your date a piece of my mind right now.” His laugh had always enchanted you. There was something so healthy and wonderful about it. It sounded as if nothing terrible happened to him, that he was content. Mike’s face flushed, “I’m sorry, am I going too far?” he asked breathlessly. As if he weren't tearing you to shreds right here and there. If he knew he was such a tease you doubt you'd be the victim of so many oblivious moments where you swore you were going to faint due to Mike's antics.

You whispered as your tone grew intimate, "No. It looks like you have more to say,"

"Well, I can say whatever you want me to." Mike's voice mirrored yours, and he dragged his chair. Your legs were touching, yet you pretended not to notice. You knew you were so lovesick, and that you could possibly be romantically interested in your best friend. The man that had always been there for you. His attitude was a flux, and Mike was raising his head with a sluggish grin as if he were surprised he uttered such a line. Which somehow made him more desirable in your world.

"I won't tell you anything. You need to tell me honestly." You toyed, "I know you're holding back."

Mike exhaled, "You know you're opening a door you can't close, right?"

"Maybe I want the risk." You tried to stay stable, "Who said I was scared?"

"Nobody."

"You looked like you were implying it, Mike."

He answered with a low chuckle, "So, you aren't going to run away?" Mike's face was dangerously close now. You could taste his breath, his skin was fresh with cheap cologne and lavender soap. Paired up with his lazy gaze and tired voice. It was enough to drive you to the edge, and you could barely muster a reply. "No."

He was so desperate for your approval, the moment you shook your head and opened your mouth, Mike was already smothering you gently. You melted into the kiss, your wet clothes and skin dimming onto his neat fit. Mike's hands were secure around you, obviously testing the waters and going slow. Meanwhile, you were needy. And desperate. And a little new. Both of you were, but that was the magic wasn't it? You had always prayed Mike would be the first person you would kiss. Even if it didn't cradle romantic context. You just wanted him. His giggles, his kisses, his kindness, his love. You wanted his love more than anything it hurt your heart how much, your passion burning in your gut.

You were both growing tired of sitting, so you stood up, growing handsy and messy. It wasn't until Mike found your neck, you folded. Before you could sink into pure joy in the moment, Mike pulled away, gasping. "I'm sorry, you're just standing. Are you okay?"

"More than okay,"

"Well, good, because I—" you cut him off, dragging him by only his tie and your lips to his couch. Passion stirred within the air as you began to unveil his collar and pepper his throat. Where, surprisingly, he was most ticklish. Mike was giggling the whole time, while also growing antsy. You had no concept of how long you two were making out for. Maybe a couple minutes? An hour? You didn't care, even if it hurt your lips, you wanted to be with him. With Mike. Somebody who understood. Your eyes grew glossy as he pulled away, catching his breath while pathetically mumbling a: "I love you, so much. So, so, so much." Then, he brought you back into his eclipse of pleasure. Everything was blurring and the only way to detect a number was by counting all the red marks on his skin because of you. It was all because of you.

You were growing crazy, humming and chuckling as your mouth grew tired of sharing oxygen with him. Once it was finally over, Mike rested his ruffled up curls against your forehead. You were more or less the same. There was silence, until you delivered: "I'm in love with you too." And it had circled, all over again. His lips and hands were on yours, just like you wanted.

Then, you both really stopped. Mike was drinking up the air robbed away from him. He giggled, face bleeding from blush from his flustered expression. "I'm sorry just—give me a second, Lord. I'm gonna pass out."

"Take it easy." You joked and you rested his head on your chest. Your skin was still radiating from your fling, and you couldn't help but blush like a teenager when he gazed up at you, eyes dark with an obvious love for you. He felt the need to repeat, "I love you."

"God, love can't even top what I feel for you." You cupped his face, "But that being said, I'll always love you more."

[sunofpandora]

Virago: Chapter 3 part 3

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

Ka’lik- (like you would pronounce “Malik”) Y/n’s father, deceased, a warrior and hunter of the 

omaticaya clan. A teacher to young warriors undergoing iknimaya.

Zensira-deceased, Y/n’s mother, spider's adoptive mother, a strong hunter and the best singer in the omaticaya clan, and a teacher to young hunters.

Kailo-(Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male)

Popiti-(tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary)

(Also idk how many of you know this but Jake’s ikran’s name is canonically ‘Bob’.)

(WARNINGS!

Sharing a sleeping hammock with the opposite gender (non-romantically)-

Neytiri hating on spider/ mentions of insecurities, heartbreak, war,/ fluff/ angst/ mentions of hunting, killing animals, mentions of therapy, military, ptsd, romance, pining, use of military terms/codewords/  Let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter desc:

Authors note:

Here we go! Chapter 3!! It feels insane to be posting the actual third  chapter of this. But holy moly, building up romance is much harder than I thought. This chapter is a long one so grab your favorite snack, find a comfy spot and buckle up. 

I have a small request for my lovely virago readers, please comment on your favorite line, moment, quote, or dynamic from this chapter. This is so I can know what kind of stuff you guys incline towards so I can throw more of it in as the story continues.

IMPORTANT:

hi guys. So I’ve decided to change spiders age from 20 to 19 for plot purposes. Jake and Neytiri are the same age. Tuk is still 7. Kiri is 19, neteyam is 19, Lo’ak and Y/n are 18.

Important!

This is part 3, the final part to chapter 3. Thank you for your patience!

                                                                   V I R A G O         

Chapter 3;

Surrender to his saubade, he has set his soul and sin ablaze (to be yours)

Part 3 (final part to chapter 3)

Y/n’s pov-

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

(Still Neteyams POV)

Night hunts were a normality for our clan. Especially the ones led by my father.

I stood in the tent, slipping on my arm guards as I prepared myself to join my group on our ikran for the hunt.

I started Mentally checking off everything I needed.

Water flask, ionar (riders mask.), and-

I just can’t seem to focus. 

All I can think about is y/n and how I’m going to speak to her after this hunt. 

Kiri is right. I don’t deserve her. And maybe I never will.

I especially don’t deserve to call her mine.

And that’s okay. I can settle for just having her in my life. That’s enough. 

But that’s a lie. I know it deep down. 

It was never about sex or the physicality of it. I could love her my whole life and never touch her.

Would I go insane? Probably. 

But could I do it? Definitely.

Settling for distance is my sacrifice. Distance is safe. Distance will keep her safe. It’ll keep me sane.

Well, that last part was a lie. 

It’s a glass half full at this point. I told Kiri I only wanted us to be friends again. Normal, average friends.

That’s not what I want. I can keep trying to compartmentalize this for the rest of my life but I’ll always live with this ache. This void in my heart that only fits her shape.

Sacrifices. Sacrifices. Sacrifice-

“Neteyam?”

I snap out of my daze; turning around to see my mother standing in the entrance way to our hut.

“Are you ready yet, ma’itan? 

Lo’ak waits outside for you.”

I shook my head, chuckling awkwardly.

“Ah. Sorry. I got a bit…distracted.

It’s nothing, mother. I’ll be out in just a moment.”

She nods, taking a step closer.

“I wanted to give you something before you leave.”

I turn to face her, my eyebrows raised a bit.

“Oh? Alright.”

She reached behind her back, holding out a small pouch, long and thin tied by a string in a roll.

I open it slowly, knowing whatever was inside was of great value.

Inside laid about 8 newly made arrows. The wood carved for the shaft still fresh in scent and the feathers for the fletching too soft to have been reused.

It’s the color that peaks my eye. The all-too familiar green and yellow shades.

“Your arrows?”

She nods, a look that can only be described as prideful as she gazes at me.

“I want you to use them tonight.”

I shake my head. This was too much of a gesture. I haven’t done anything to deserve.

“Mother, they are beautiful. But I cannot-“

“Ma’itan.”

She cuts me off. Her tone devoid of any hostility or impatience.

“I was thinking about our talk the other night. About your father, and how he is harsh sometimes.

You know well by now what you are. Who and where you come from. You are your fathers son. You have his strength. You carry yourself much like he did in his days of battle. and you must understand that scares him.”

I’m quiet as her words sink in. She places a hand on my shoulder. Her eyes of a golden hue that mirror my own.

“He is not ready to see his son fight his battles or wear his colors. Your father has his own shadows he has yet to face. If you cannot yet wear his colors..I want you to wear mine.”

She places the arrows in my hands, and I’m speechless. 

She gently cups my face, her palm sliding down to my shoulder once again.

“You may use his weapons. You may speak his language. And you have grown up with his sky people ways. 

But never forget, blood of the real warriors comes from us.”

She places two fingers atop her chest, right over her heart.

It breaks my soul to remember that one of my mother’s greatest fears is that we will forget the ways of a na’vi. That even the minimal amount of tech we use in our family circle, with the exception of my fathers gun, seems to threaten everything she knows.

I’m taller than my mother now. Only by a few inches. So I lean down when I go to hug her.

“Irayo, Sa’nok.”

(‘Thank you, mother.’)

I pull back, smiling at her.

“I hope with these, the winds of our ancestors fly with me tonight.”

She chuckles, taking a step back.

“They are with you. Always. No matter where you go. No matter where you are.”

There’s a comfortable silence before my mother sighs, and I put the arrows in the leather pouch that is attached to my ikran saddle for hunting.

“You should go. Your father is waiting with the others.”

I nod, putting on my ionar and finishing slipping on my arm guards.

I lean down, fastening the straps to my leg guards as well before grabbing the small satchel and making my way off.

“Neteyam- one last thing?”

I turn the moment my mothers voice reached my ears.

“Here.” She spoke softly.

I turn to see my mother holding up my beaded choker. The one worn by so many generations of warriors in our clan. I took it off a few days ago when Tuk wanted to re-braid my hair. last time, she kept getting my hair tangled with the clasp at the back of the necklace.

“Let me.”

Without another word, she turns me around by the shoulders, brushing my braids out of the way as she slips the necklace on me, tying the clasp properly to ensure it doesn’t fall while hunting.

She struggles for a moment, having to crane her neck to see properly.

“Curse you and your height.” She mumbles, and I can’t help but laugh.

Once she finishes, I kiss her on the cheek before speeding off.

I jog across the pathway, slinging my bow over my shoulder. The thick air of high camp resonating and weaving through the sounds of distant conversations and laughter.

I finally spot Lo’ak and Spider. Lo’ak stands with his bow around his torso, the string brushing his chest. Spider carries a basket of the arrows he and lo’ak made for y/n.

I pinch the back of lo’aks neck before slinging my arm around him.

“Ready for the hunt, baby bro?”

He hissed at me, shoving me away.

“This is bullshit. I fluke once. ONCE. And now dad won’t even let me fly my ikran for the hunt!”

Spider shrugs, as the three of us start walking to the large crevice cutting into the mountains of high camp, making a large entrance way and a stable spot to land and saddle up ikrans for coming or going.

“Look on the bright side. At least you get to go. Plus you’ll be with the direhorse squad with Norm.”

He pushes Lo’ak lightly to walk a bit faster.

Lo’ak grumbled something and speed-walked ahead of us.

Spider sets the basket down once we meet the meeting spot. The same place the clans war and hunting parties gather before a raid

Or a hunt.

Some other hunters start to swarm in. Carrying bows and arrows of their own, all talking amgonst one another.

Spider groans.

“Lo’ak. Look.”

He taps Lo’ak’s arm, not-so-subtly gesturing to Makeyo standing across from us, speaking with one of the other hunters.

Lo’ak fake gags, Spider glares and the both of them stare him down for a good 7 seconds.

An odd feeling settles itself in the more unwelcoming corners of my heart.

Like fingers trying to pry their way through a barrier.

Something tenses in me as I find myself staring at him too. Remembering how y/n spoke of him at dinner.

Makeyo a bit shorter than me. Only by a few inches. My hair is longer, his braids reaches his shoulders. Still taller than y/n though. 

It’s only when I hear spider whispering I snap back to reality.

“Oh fuck. He’s coming over here. Don't make eye contact. Don’t make eye contact.”

Spider stares up, whistling as he shoves his hands behind him, leaning on a rock. Lo’ak fidgets with one of the arrows, both of them over exaggeratedly feigning to ignore Makeyo’s approaching figure.

He smiles at me, greeting us with an unhesitatingly proper formality.

“Neteyam. Lo’ak,”

He pauses for a moment, having to avert his eyes downward to notice spider.

“Ah, and..”

He struggles for a moment to recall spider’s name. Spider can only glare at the taller na’vi that somehow appeared even more intolerably annoying when he was being kind.

“Spider.” Spider mumbles, crossing his arms.

“Y/n’s brother.” I add, stepping in front of spider to try and distract Makeyo from the smaller human that looked like he was plotting a murder.

Makeyo nodded in recognition, smiling softly.

“Right. I assume y/n will be leading us tonight? As usual. She’s your fathers right hand man.”

“Woman.” I correct, with an unintentional edge delineating my tone. An almost crude enunciation of the word finds itself leaving my lips, making Makeyo still for a moment before chuckling.

“Of course. And what a woman she is..”

When did his face become so punchable?

Makeyo is someone that makes himself very difficult to hate.

Helpful, kind, smart, good with kids, the whole ordeal.

But I am no foreigner to a mask. Why? Because I wear one every single day of my life. Sometimes I wonder what Makeyo’s mask looks like. Or if he even wears a mask at all. Forever yearning to grasp such a thing that always seemed to evade you.

I bite my lip, my jaw tensing as my eyes graze over the expanse of his figure. Up then down.

Makeyo falters for a moment, but proceeds with an unhesitatingly sweetened glean in his eye.

“What I mean is, she is just amazing. Well, I don’t need to tell you that, of course. You’ve practically grown up with her.”

Something about the way he so shamelessly displays his simpering delusions of innocence in the form of this crush he has on y/n-

For lack of a better word, is really starting to piss me off. His bold assumptions of platonic love between me and y/n makes my tail flick.

And no, I’m not jealous. I’m not. Really. Yes, I am capable of violent impulses and of course, I do fantasize about punching his face every now and then, but that’s not jealousy. Is it? No. Of course it’s not.

Yeah, maybe I slightly envy the fact that he can love her so freely. 

The way he could stand where he couldn’t see and hold her hand, unbothered by the absence of sunlight to compulsively provide promises of safety and sanctuary. Maybe I hate that he is unburdened by the weighted whispers of the elders and third eyes peskily pruning gazes at holding her hand. Maybe I hate that he spends almost all day with her. Watching her laugh, and interact so perfectly with the children of the clan.

Maybe I hated the way he had no history with her that resonates with soured feelings and broken promises. I envied his clean conscience.

But that’s not jealousy…of course not.

He’s called away to assist with some other task, and when I turn around Lo’ak and spider are quickly jogging in the opposite direction, towards the edge where an familiar red, purple, and blue ikran perches, with an even more familiar rider on his back.

Y/n smirks as she hops off of  Kailo, the creature releasing an almost purr-like shrill as it rubs its chin against y/n’s cheek.

She chuckles, small luminous sparks leaking through the tops of the rocky stronghold flirting with her pulchritudinous smile.

She hums, gently petting the banshee’s neck.

“Mawey, pretty boy.”

I don’t really know why, but ‘pretty boy’ had an odd way of making my chest flutter. Even if I knew she was talking to her ikran.

She flips her braids over her shoulders. Y/n as always had a bit of a more effete-feel to her wardrobe. That of a warrior, of course. The strongly woven arm guards and her beaded cuff to tie her hair back when she flew, or hunted, always easily annoyed with her braids falling in her face.

The waist beads she wore, which were usually made by Kiri or my mother, were always a signature habit to herself.

She had quite a few scars, blemishes, and bruises that canvassed her skin. I find them beautiful. Like the patterns of the universe printed onto her skin.

Spider and Lo’ak fake saluted as y/n made her way towards them.

“Y/n, ma’am.”

Spider tipped his head ever so slightly, Lo’ak dramatically bowing, making her roll her eyes and laugh.

“At ease, boys.”

Lo’ak stands up straight again, slinging an arm around her shoulder and gesturing to spider.

“We made you something.”

Spider proudly holds up their basket of arrows.

There’s something indescribably tantalizing about the way she smiled at those two. 

“Aw guys, you shouldn’t have..”

Spider scoffed, placing his hands on his waist.

“Please. It was our pleasure to assist the mighty archer.”

It’s a moment later when spider and Lo’ak run off to help norm, and I stand quietly behind y/n as she places the new arrows in her side saddle along with her bow.

“I’m assuming you were on babysitting duty? Supervising those two with the fire pit and sharp edges?”

She teased, nudging my shoulder. I chuckle back, shrugging.

“Of course. Someone has to prevent the children from running with their hunting knives.”

She shakes her head, another giggle tumbling past her lips.

“Tuk? Or Lo’ak and spider?”

I hum before leaning over a bit to stand a bit closer.

“Why not all of them?”

She laughs once again, and my palms feel warm for a moment.

I clear my throat, straightening my back a bit.

“Y/n. Can We talk abou-”

“Alright people let's get moving! Fall in and line up!”

I’m cut off by the sudden cannonade of my father’s voice. Y/n’s  eyes widen a bit as it flickers to where he stood. Talking with uncle norm. She glances back at me, patting my back. “Later. Okay?”

I can’t even respond before she jogs over to my father, only stopping her dauntless strides when she pauses to fist-bump norm.

I follow suit with the other hunters in an almost feverish manner. Slinging my bow around my torso and finding a spot in the forming two long lines of other hunters and warriors beside Lo’ak.

“Let's move it people! We’re wasting the sunset! Oscar-Mike (move out), people, lets get it done!”

When the last few of the younger hunters scurry into line, my father stands tall in front of all of us, his arms crossed over his chest. Don’t be fooled by the brute build. He’s still the same man who stumbled into hometree all those years ago with a ‘good evening everyone’ and a ‘please don’t get up’.

He clears his throat bef0re he starts to speak.

“Good to see everyone turn up for tonight's hunt. This will be no different from training you’ve all had in the past, or currently undergoing.”

Some nod, others shift nervously on their feet.

Y/n approaches from behind my father. Her strides not faltering for even a second. Her chin titled high, looking us over with a gaze of a storm flooded a seafloor beneath a tideline. Y/n doesn’t get in line with us, no. Her place is beside my father. A leader.

spider perched behind her on one of the high ledges in the unevenly rocky stone walls of highcamp. One of his hands placed on her shoulder to keep himself from leaning forward too far.

My father continues.

“For those of you still training for your iknimiya, you will be on the ground team with Norm, and Awkey and the Olangi hunters will join us tonight. Stay in line with them. You will ride the pa’li on the perimeter of that narrow clearing in the middle of the grove. Understood?”

A few yips and grunts were heard from the younger na’vi, a few raising their bows and nodding their heads.

Father nods, turning back to face us again.

“Warriors. Those of you who have passed iknimiya and have ikrans will be in the sky. Bows on the ready, death from above.”

He takes a step back, gesturing to Y/n, who still stood in her place behind him.

“Y/n, my most trusted Archer, will be in command of the sky team. You are to stay within her flight patterns, and not go beyond what she sees as a fit perimeter. Follow her orders, and you might just learn something.”

Father finishes giving us our positions, and I stray from my assigned group, only for a moment. I walk towards the opening to the crevice, leaning down and making the bird call my mother taught me, pressing my lips together and releasing a high-pitched note of a sound.

The familiar flap of wings resonates in the air below me, and before I can blink, my ikran perches herself infront of me, making a soft shrill noise of her own. In all her glory, the green, brown, and yellow skin worn like a Hyde of the forest.

I pet her neck, adjusting the side saddle for my bow and tightening the neck reigns.

Rey’sa is what I named her.

Broken fragments of my mothers language stitched together. The meaning is a remembrance of Seze. My mothers first ikran. I had a toy ikran that was painted green, brown and blue, when I was around Tuk’s age. Y/n’s mother had gifted it to me when I was 7. Modeled after Seze even in color, my mother happily shed tears at the sight of the small wooden toy.

It’s been passed down. Me and Kiri played with it, then Lo’ak, then Tuk.

The toy is old and cracking now, the paint peeling away. I think love is holding it together. Tuk sleeps with the thing every night. I can’t imagine it’s very comfortable, though.

My iknimaya dodged the fateful curse of a chaotic, violence-craving ikran.

I’ve watched my brother and y/n almost die during their right of passage. Meanwhile, Rey’sa bucked me off maybe twice and it was over. Made the bond, had our first flight, the whole works.

I pet her neck, smoothing my palms over the leather skin one last time before I mount. My leg swinging over as I adjust the inner part of my thighs against the saddle.

I wait for my fathers signal.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

Y/n’s pov:

Neytiri hated when Norm and Max joined the hunt. Or any hunt for that matter. Hunting was a sacred practice to na’vi. To take a life in such a delicate way it’s almost painless. She didn’t want the sky people’s ways to taint such a delicate tradition.

You walk over to where Norm and Max were packing some extra radios in the Samson seat packs, Norm checking all the controls as he whistled a tune to himself.

When you approach, his ears perk up, and he smiles. His usual tan colored vest and shorts fashioned securely to his avatar body.

“Hey kiddo.”

He gives you a hug, ruffling a few of your braids. Mex sits behind him, sitting on the benched ledge of the side entrance to the aircraft, giving you a thumbs up and a soft smile.

Norm sighs, taking a step back, his hands on his hips as he looks you over.

“Look at you. Growing into a brave warrior. Seems like only yesterday and you and spider were running around the lab.”

Norm and Max had been like family to you. Especially with your parents always accounting for Spider, they didn’t completely understand how to raise a human boy, so Norm and Max were always there with extra breathing packs and masks. Plus, being a package deal with spider meant you hung out in the lab just as much as he did when you were little. Poking around at all the link beds and making norm play your stupid little games of tag, even pestering max. Sometimes, Max would let you use his glasses to look at different plants and leaves, because you loved the way things looked under the glass. 

And sure, some na’vi mothers and fathers couldn’t possibly comprehend why such intelligent, well respected clan members like your parents would leave their daughter under the watch of two sky people. But it didn’t matter. Max and Norm fared well as babysitters.

You smiled at Norm, a small laugh leaving you.

“Well. Seems like your joining us on another hunt?”

Norm nods, adjusting the radio on his hip.

“Yup. I keep telling Jake the misses’ ain’t gonna be happy with us tagging along, but he says it’s for Safety. If anything goes wrong, if RDA wants to show up for another playdate.”

You nod, thinking about the attack awhile ago.

Your attention rechannels itself towards the smaller pale creature that emerges from behind a much taller Norm in his avatar body.

Spider blinks up at you through the sheet of glass that has acted as a blockade between you both ever since you were 2. Protecting him from the unwelcoming atmosphere of Pandora.

“Y/n.”

He huffs.

“Please inform Norm here that I’m old enough to drive the Samson.”

Max scoffed.

“It’s not about age, Junior. It’s about training.”

Spider rolls his eyes, gesturing to you with over dramatic movements.

“I’m 19. I’m too old to be hitching rides on my little sister's Ikran.”

Norm shrugged.

“Fine. You can start riding with me and Maya.”

Maya was Norm’s ikran. He told you it was named after someone from the past. Back in the first war. 

Her name is Trudy. Jake told you that you reminded him of her sometimes. Same attitude and rebellious spirit. She piloted a Samson 16, and always called it ‘Maya.’ You admired that he named his own set of wings after someone’s dream of flying.

Spider shook his head.

“Or, let me at least have my own avatar. So I can pass Iknimaya, and get my own ikran!” 

Norm nods, a sudden wave of enthusiasm. “Sure junior. Just put 40 million on the table and i’ll have your order ready in the next..hm..12 years?”

Spider groans, rolling his eyes.

You laugh at Norm’s sarcasm. Though, a part of you really did feel bad for Spider.

Norm and Max were called over to talk with Jake one last time before the group descended, leaving you and spider alone.

You sat next to Spider on the step up to the cockpit, rubbing his back.

“You know I love you no matter what size you are, right?”

Spider scoffs, his head tilting the opposite way.

“Gee. thanks.”

You chuckled, and he spared you a small smile.

He sighed, staring out at the na’vi hunters and warriors that mounted their ikrans, preparing to descend.

You could never imagine what it was like for Spider. Being born a human on a planet he couldn’t even breathe freely on.

Ideals formed under disillusion. The little, messy-loc’d pale boy you’d help paint blue as a child is no longer shielded from the pesky whispers and glares of your clan. 

You don’t think its fair. You never did.  And you even found it a bit hypocritical. Considering your clan’s never ending preachings for the value of nature, balance, and adaptation.

Spider has adapted to be just like your people. And he’s done a pretty fucking good job.

Your moment is interrupted by Norm, who jogs back with Max trailing behind him.

“We’re moving out! Y/n, you’re needed in the front. Spider, lets get moving!”

You nod, grabbing your bow and giving one last small glance to spider.

He smiles.

“Be safe. Please.”

You scoff.

“I’m always safe.”

With that, you mounted Kailo, and took to the skies.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

Y/n’s pov

The wind whipped and wailed. The familiar sting of raw current against your cheeks was oddly soothing. Your team flew behind you. Neteyam, Makeyo, a few others. Jake next to you, and Awkey below. The smaller group of Pa’li hunters maintain obedience in formation as the maddening rhythms of horse hooves assault the ground beneath you. The half-finished notes demand attention through the heavy thrumming melody.

“X, do you read me?”

Jake’s voice comes through your throat comm with a static quality. Struggling to maintain volume against the violent symphonies that crowded the night air. 

You place two fingers on your comm, allowing your voice to cut through the mic.

“I read you.”

“Norm’s radars are picking up some heavy movement to the east. Take your squad and dive on down. I’ll catch up.”

“Roger that.”

You lift your bow, turning your head over your shoulder. Sending a call to your team, you start to dive further down beneath the canopy. They don’t hesitate to follow you, some even going as far to mimic your dive move.

You don’t have any words for what you see below on the muddied path.

You’ve been sturmbeest hunting before. Many times. But this..This was something you only imagined.

Sturmbeest in the most intense stampede imaginable, some even tripping and folding over one another. There doesn't seem to be even the smallest amount of space between them as they charge.

You made a signal for your team to disperse, some falling behind you or to the left side of the perimeter, keeping a close trail with the pa’li hunters. You saw lo’ak behind Awkey as he led them further down the sidelines. He looks just as shocked as you are.

Jake arrived on the scene not soon after.

His voice broke through your comm again, this time connecting Neteyam.

“X. stay front and center. Makeyo and Pathfinder are gonna spot you from the right. Try and find some targets. The rest of your team are far out behind.”

Minutes had passed, and you had watched the pa’li hunters desperately try to squeeze their way into the flow of traffic.

You watched a good portion of the hunters attempt at shooting one of the sturmbeest on horseback using their bow, only for the arrow to bounce off the rough exterior of the skin.

You watched a few of them collapse in a pile of chaos. 5 of them using spears only to get rammed down by a new group of the mud-covered giants, thrown with their pa’li into the dirt. The sight made you wince. Every fiber of your being just screaming for you to dive down there and help.

“Fuck it.”

You mumbled under your breath, preparing kailo to dive.

“Don’t even think about it.” Jake calls out to you.

You turn to see him, weaving through the trees on bob. 

You shake your head, your long braids wildly whipping in the wind.

“Sir, we have too many hunters riding pa'li down. If we just sent support to the ground level we’d make a kill!”

Jake shook his head. “Forget it, X. Your job right now is to keep your squad in line. If you dive, you run the risk of all of them diving down after you. You say up, they say how high. You gotta keep yourself steady, kiddo.”

You hiss to yourself, your ikran feeling mutual frustration as a shrill escapes your companion.

Neteyam flies ahead with you, his bow at the ready on his side.

“Any openings?” he calls to you, and you only shake your head.

“None that don’t look risky.”

Neteyam nods, his eyes scanning the path.

“Let's get a bit closer. We can scout better angles from below.” he offers.

It wasn’t a terrible idea. You looked to your side, your eyes locking with Neteyam’s. Flames that weren’t quite worthy of being threatening engulfed a jaded voice under your chest. Promises of sunlight and safety that were agonizingly familiar shade of olive green and bright yellow. The same sounds of a bird thrashing in a cage. Exhausted and rough, and yet, there was trust beneath the surface. Like jumping off a cliff and knowing something will catch you.

He nods at you. 

“I’ll be right behind you, X.”

You grab your bow and dive, Neteyam follows your lead.

You cruise above the chaos, mud flying in damp specks, your vision is clouded by dust and overbearing sensations.

Neteyam is beside you, and you can feel his gaze shifting between you and the path below in a predictable pattern.

Your eyes focus on a small rift forming in the middle of the stampede. Like a crack in the mountain. An open space where single beasts drifted in and out of a bare area.

Maybe small spaces still managed to infatuate you.

Your eyes locked onto one sturmbeest that took its turn in the middle. You reached for an arrow, pulling back the string of your bow. The familiar satisfying stretch felt beneath your finger tips as neteyam spotted you from beside, tilting himself down along with you.

You quickly devised a plan. A blockade of sorts could be created. If you shot down at least two of the biggest sturmbest, the rest would slow down because of the largest creatures stumbling about.

You traded in your singular arrow for two of your own, resuming your position as you pulled back your arrows.

Neteyam seemed to understand your plan, grabbing an arrow of his own.

You both nodded at each other, a mutual procedure seemingly placed into action.

“Ready whenever you are, X. I’m under your order.”

Neteyam’s voice sent a cold sensation down your spine. Something about obedience..The willingness to follow your every move.

You both released your arrows, one of your arrows hitting the exact same spot as his in one of the largest sturmbeest, your other arrow landing solo in the other.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The two beasts stumbled into the mud, causing the other sturmbeest to disperse into a wider path. Creating more room for targets.

Neteyam let out a celebratory war call, following your lead as you and Kailo flew up, circling Reysa and Neteyam.

“Hell yeah!”

You screeched.

“Hell Yeah!”

Neteyam mimicked you, his accented voice sounding funny on the human term spider taught you.

You both laughed, circling each other on your ikrans as the wind caught your hair.

Time seemed to slow for a moment as you both caught each other's gazes.

But it didn’t last for long.

“Y/n!”

Lo’ak’s voice screeched through the static of your throat comm, causing you and Neteyam to pause. 

You placed two fingers on your throat comm, tuning into lo’ak’s distressed call.

“I’m here. what’s happening?”

“It’s spider! The Samson is dragging too close to the sturmbeest, its looking dangerously close to a collision. Dad’s comm isn’t going through and neither is norm’s! You have to get through to them!”

Your heart thrashed itself into an unyielding rhythm of uncertainty.

You don’t even answer Lo’ak. You dive back down, ignoring the calls of your name leaving Neteyam.

You finally find yourself parallel to the Samson, that, quite literally as Lo’ak described, was dragging through the air, the usual smooth running ship making unusual sounds as norm seemed to struggle along with a concerned max on the controls. A malfunction maybe? Eywa. Why now?!

You yelled to catch spiders attention, he jumped out of his seat and leaned on the edge of the side door that was now wide open, hanging out with only his arm holding him up as he gripped a bar.

“Tell Norm and Max to go up!”

You screamed, desperately making hand motions.

Spider couldn’t hear you. He leaned a bit closer to hear when suddenly the Samson dips down further, a sturmbeest bucks upwards.

Your heart seemed to completely cease beating for a moment.

You didn’t see what happened. All you knew is that when you looked back at the ship, spider was gone. The panic that sets in was enough to smother your vision in an unfamiliar color you couldn’t quite place. Panic rushed through you in bolts as all you could think of is the possibility of your brother being dead. The boy you carried around on your back for so many years. The boy who protected you from all the creepy boys in the clan. The boy who let you scream and cry and vent after Neteyam broke your heart.

A small whimper left your lips, and you can’t really tell if you’re crying or not.

The world around you seemed almost in a reflective like manner, as If kept in a kaleidoscope or a dome.

You dive down desperately, screaming for him, your voice tearing through the wind.

Neteyam dives down after you, cursing to himself and calling for spider as well.

The world around you seems to blur when you catch sight of a smaller pale creature sprawled out on the ground, unconscious.

You dive down, scooping him up by the waist and throwing him on the back of your ikran, one hand struggling to steer as another hand keeps spider slumped against your back, stretched behind you.

Lo’ak is below you, following you on the back of his pa’li.

You land a bit farther from the path in the forest, jumping off your ikran with jagged, uneven breaths as you laid spider on the grass with scrambling hands.

You freeze when you see the twitching of his hands, and the small crack in his mask.

And all you can think about is how if you lost spider, you really did have no family left.

“No, no no no no no please-“

You whispered, not knowing what to do or how to fix this.

Do you take it off? Leave it?

You resort to placing your hand over the crack, thinking maybe it’ll keep more air from slipping inside.

Your vision starts to blur with tears. And just when you place your palm atop the glass, you feel a jolt of pain rush through your wrist.

The pressure you applied had cracked the mask even more, and now tiny shards of glass had covered your palm.

You didn’t feel the pain. Not at first. But then, like the bitch it was, adrenaline was starting to abandon you.

Lo’ak hops off his pa’li and runs towards you, leaning down.

“Shit! Spider!”

He looks at you.

“What happened? What- how-“

Tears streamed down your cheeks. And Lo’ak stared for a moment as one of the strongest people he knew was crying right in front of him.

“H-he fell- I don’t-“

Your breathing becomes uneven.

Behind you you see Jake and Neteyam both land their ikrans, the Samson landing behind them a bit in the distance as norm runs carrying a first aid kit.

The air around you thieves you of oxygen as your chest becomes heavy.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, gently pulling you to your feet as your turned around and met with Neteyams golden hour eyes, his palms softly dragging down your cheeks to your collarbones,

“Hey-hey look at me. Are you hurt?” 

You try to speak but the air in your lungs is swallowed instead, and you gasp.

“S-spider.”

He turns you the opposite way, shaking his head.

“Don’t look at that right now. Look at me. Just keep your eyes right here. I’m right here. Y/n.”

He looks you over, and freezes when his eyes settle on your palm.

“Shit. Your hand-“

You look down, seeing the thin trail of warm red liquid that dripped down your fingertips.

You felt like a faceless phantom in a hollow shell of a wreckage you called your body. Watching the world spin by as you remained trapped in your bird cage of broken wing bones.

You watched as Norm quickly replaced spider mask, his chest rising up and back down again like an ocean being suppressed under a sheet of glass.

You almost release yet another sob when spider regains consciousness. His eyes blowing wide like a shell-shocked animal. The sight of his pale hand gripping Norm’s much  larger bicep makes you sick to your stomach.

Neteyam gently guides you by your waist to behind one of the trees, you press your back to the rough bark in hopes some kind of sensation will break this shock.

He takes your hand, grabbing the waterskin pouch from his knife sheath strap.

You watch as he pours the clear liquid onto your cut. 

The cool water washing away the remnants of red and painful delirium that stained your hand was a soothing stimulation.

He’s movements are quick. Unrehearsed. A raw desperation submerged under his skin.

He rips a strip of fabric off of his loincloth, kneeling down as his knees suddenly assault the dirt with his sudden drop.

He gently takes your hand, wrapping the cloth around the wound, methodical movements carefully tying off this makeshift bandage.

He stands to his feet again, running his palms down your shoulders, then your arms, then your newly bandaged hands.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You shake your head. You find yourself in an absent abstraction of a state. A warped, uncanny fabrication of reality. This verisimilitude within a broken mirror. A wondering reflection.

“You’re shaking.”

His deep accented voice breaks your wall.

You find yourself collapsing into him.

It was a blur, the whole thing.

Your face pressed to Neteyams chest as he kept an arm around you. You breathed in his scent, reminiscences in the familiar warmth of him, an almost magnetic feeling flowing through you.

And for a moment, the spaces didn’t seem too small anymore.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

Y/n’s pov.

Norm says it was an accident. And accidents are prone to happen.

You sat in Mo’at’s tent, watching as the last few warriors had their injuries cleaned and bandaged.

You fidgeted with your bandage on your hand. Neteyam’s old one had been discarded when you returned, and you were given a real wrap for your hand.

Spider was alive. His breathing was normal again, but he suffered from his fall. You’re shocked he got away with only scrapes and bruises. He wasn’t allowed to climb or leave camp for the next few days. He was confined to bed rest. 

He was now resting in the lab bunks. Norm and Max promised you they would not leave his side. It gave you some comfort. 

It’s funny, really. How you had no problem facing war. You were good at strategy. A fierce archer. Different from some other na’vi who felt repulsed by human things.

You were fascinated with calculations and numbers. Planning and plotting. Reading and graphing. Heights, distances, etc.

But when something so sudden and blunt like your brother almost falling to his death out of a skyship, you fumbled and almost killed him.

You fidgeted with your bracelet. The one you, spider, and Lo’ak made as children. Twirling the beads between your fingers and staring down into the void of colors and shapes.

The feeling of Neteyam’s arms around you is far from absent. His scent lingers. Honey and wooded. 

When you returned, he didn’t leave your side. He led you to his grandmother's tent, gave you water and sat with you until his father dragged him away to assist with gathering the meat from the beast you both hunted up to camp.

You didn’t like being pampered or prodded at, but for some reason your skin that now feels as hollow as a shell, it  practically became a ragdoll under Neteyam’s hands.

The world around you felt far too big for this small tent to be encasing the storm of thoughts under your skin.

“Y/n!”

Tuk scampers inside through the entrance, practically throwing herself into your arms.

“Oh Tuk-Tuk.” You whisper, finding familiar warmth carrying you back to reality.

You held Tuk close. As if some threat of a force would take her away. As if the hollowness that shaved your bones longs for something to protect. Something to keep within the circle of your arms.

You smoothed back her braids, kissing her head. 

“You’re back.”

She whispers, nuzzling her head into your shoulder. You place your hand on the back of her head, keeping her still and safe.

“Of course I’m back. I’ll always come back. What do I always tell you, love?”

Tuk sniffles, wiping her big eyes with the back of her hand.

“It would take a thousand sky ships to take you away?”

You smiled, tapping her nose gently.

“Make it a million.”

She smiled, but it fades away a bit as she glances down.

“Is spider okay?”

You still for a moment, the familiar ache in your chest returns.

“Oh little love. He’ll be just fine. Spider is big and strong. He’s a wild child, remember?”

You scooped tuk up into your lap, pressing a few kisses to her head, tickling her stomach. She giggled and thrashed in your arms.

“Y/n! Stoppp!”

She laughed wildly.

Finally, you put her back down, letting her snuggle up next to you as you wrapped an arm around her.

It wasn’t long before Kiri and Mo’at entered.

You bowed your head slightly, greeting mo’at.

“Ma’tsahik.”

She nodded at you, placing a hand on your head, smoothing down a few stray hairs from your braids.

“The salve will take affect soon, child. But you must not use it for the next few hours. Let your mind and your body heal.”

You nodded, squeezing her hand.

“Thank you.”

You whispered.

Kiri sat behind you, starting to untangle a few of your braids from its disheveled position tied back with your beaded cuff.

“Let me straighten your braids, tsmuke (sister). It looks worse than my fathers job at braiding.

You snorted, rubbing Tuk’s back as a small giggle leaves her lips.

Mo’at started to clean up the bowls laid around, behind her entered Lo’ak.

“There’s my sister from another mister. Killer shot.”

He teases, locking his hands with yours in a handshake-hug gesture you and him

Picked up as children from watching norm and Jake do it so many times.

When you pull away, he swings his arm around you, making himself comfortable as he leans sloppily over you, pushing Kiri back further.

She groans.

“Lo’ak! You idiot! Stop making me pull her hair!”

He shrugs Kiri off.

“Relax. We all know who y/n’s favorite sully is.”

Kiri scoffs and you reach behind your head to squeeze her hand.

Before you even realize it, the broken fragments of fear and self-hatred wither away under the surface of a settled skin. No longer sleepless with worry. 

The air feels lighter with Tuk’s small snuggles and Kiri’s gentle hands running through your long braids, leaving some pieces at the ends unbraided just as she always loved the way it looked on you. Your chest doesn’t feel so tight after a few of Lo’ak’s stupid jokes and stories. The laughter seemingly loosening the threads of torn tapestry.

A few hours later, Neytiri enters the hut.

“Mama!”

Tuk squirms out of your arms, running to neytiri as she smiles softly down at her youngest.

“Oh tuk.”

She hums, leaning down to kiss her daughter's head, her attention turning towards you after tuk jogged away to mo’at.

“My sweet. Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, standing to your feet as she gestures for you to come closer, wrapping her arms around you and resting her chin atop your head, kissing your hairline.

“Oh my strong girl.”

She whispers, running a hand down your back.

“Strong heart.” She hums, stepping back a bit as her eyes slowly take you in.

She turns to Lo’ak and Kiri, who stand up soon after you.

“Your father has called a gathering of the clan’s hunters and warriors.”

She turns to you and Lo’ak, tilting her head upwards slightly.

“Your presence is needed. Both of you.”

You feel yourself straighten instinctively as you let her words register past the lingering haze of your earlier experience still looms over you like a storm cloud.

Lo’ak stretches, ruffling Tuk’s hair as she hisses and swats him away.

“Alright then. Let’s get moving.”

He nudges your elbow, brushing past Neytiri who softly touches his shoulder as he passes by.

“Y/n. A moment please.”

Neytiri’s slender fingers wrap around your forearm. Not harshly, but her voice has a clear coat of concern.

You pause, looking at Lo’ak once more as he ceases his strides.

“Y/n? You coming sis?”

You nod.

“I’ll be there in a minute. You go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

He nods, starting to walk away.

Neytiri turns to her mother.

“Sa’nok. Do you mind watching Tuktirey and Kiri?”

Mo’at shakes her head, standing to her feet and ushering Kiri and Tuk back to the sully family marui, Kiri giving you one last hand squeeze and Tuk giving you a small hug.

Once the tent is empty, your focus rechannels onto Neytiri. 

“Is there something wrong?”

You ask.

She shakes her head.

“I just wanted to see if you were alright, yawne.”

Her hands rest on your shoulders, traveling down to your arms.

“You have been through so much these past few weeks, my sweet. If you ever need anything, please, don’t ever be afraid to ask me or Jake or Tsahik. You know this.”

You nod. Smiling softly to reassure her. This woman. This strong, beautiful woman who was giving you the love your mother left behind.

“I am fine. I promise.”

She sighs.

“You have dark circles under your eyes, Y/n. Your thinning a bit. You need sleep, and proper meals.”

She cups your face.

“All I ask is that you take care of yourself, my sweet. And please, let us take care of you. We are here for you. We always have been  and will be.”

She gently runs her thumb over your cheek.

“Lean on us, yawne.”

You smiled, the two of you embracing one another in a hug.

You step back after a few moments.

“I promise. I’ll practice at it.”

She smiles and kisses your head.

“Tonight may be a bit evasive for sleep, thought. I’m gonna spend a few hours in the lab before turning in.”

Neytiri tilts her head.

“The sky people room? Why?”

“To check on spider.”

Her expression sours slightly as she hears his name.

“I’m sure he is healing just fine. The sky people’s tools take no time at all, it seems.”

There was an edge in her voice, but you knew it wasn’t directed towards you.

It was a difficult case when it came to what is left of your family.

It was always you, your father, your mother, and spider. A circle of safety and familiarity that never left you unguarded.

When your parents died, you were placed under the care of Jake and Neytiri. Neytiri would do anything for you. She would go to the same lengths for you, she would go to for any of her children. In her eyes, you were hers. Hers to love.

But love is a sacrificial abstraction. (Seems to be a common theme, does it not?)

You think what frustrates her is the sacrifices you make for him. Love was a unsteadily structured sentiment. And when all his attempts seem futile in forms of pale skin painted blue, there was a sensitive inflection of utterances. 

You were his sister. You weren’t leaving him.

To Neytiri, your life was a cage. Stuck with this feral human boy who fancied himself a na’vi. A soul coaxed to wild-child thunderstorms and bruised knees from tree climbing, messy locs from days of sunlit spaces.

In her eyes you were stuck with Spider. 

Her love and protection was something that created a barricade between you and your brother. You prayed you would never find yourself having to choose between spider and her.

“I should go see him. Just to check on him. I won’t be there long.”

Neytiri nodded, but you can tell she was biting her tongue.

You give her one more soft smile before turning to leave.

“Y/n?”

You turn at the call of your name, and she only utters a few words.

“Your mother loved that…boy. I know she did. But you are allowed to think differently. You need not be burdened with carrying yourself and another.”

You didn’t need her to elaborate. You understood.

You nodded.

“My mother believed that connection is unconditional. The color that stains our skin and our blood doesn’t make a family. She always told me that if you bind yourself to pure hatred, you forget who you are. I love my people. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

Neytiri’s tail swished.

“Y/n. Do not abandon what eywa has given us.”

Her voice was pleading. As if trying to place tessellations of an invisible disillusionment. A carefulness edged.

“I abandon no one.”

You whispered, holding her hands.

“But please. Understand that my home was built around both me and spider. The biggest abandonment I can see from that would be leaving him behind.”

She says nothing.

She stared at you with something you didn’t recognize.

It wasn’t cold, or shallow. Her gaze monitored a retrospection of something lost. Behind a liquid glass. You couldn’t tell if she saw you in a mirror or a window.

It’s blunted and ceased after a few moments. She kisses the top of your head.

“Olo’eyktan waits for you. Go on.”

You nod at her, deciding to take that as your signal to depart.

☾𖤓✮ ☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮

When you arrived at the meeting spot, the first thing you see is your clans most renounced warriors in a circle with the exception of a few hunters and Lo’ak. He wasn’t quite as skilled as Neteyam when it came to certain skills, but was a warrior all the same.

You find a spot next to Lo’ak, nodding respectfully at the other na’vi easily recognizable that stood across from you.

Kyuna’s father, Makeyo and his father, Ka’ani, Lo’ak’s current teacher, and the man who took your fathers and place in teaching the young hunters undergoing iknimiya, and a handful others.

The dreamwalkers couldn’t be seen in the gathering, you assumed they retired back to their reserved part of the stronghold.

You turned to Lo’ak, who was fidgeting with his bracelet, the one you, him and spider shared.

“What is this about?”

You whispered.

Lo’ak shrugged, glancing at you, the two usual braids that framed the sides of his head falling in his face.

“Maybe we’re all gonna hold hands in a circle and dance about love and peace.”

He hummed, his face blank.

Your tail thwacked the back of his head.

“The sarcasm is not appreciated.”

You rolled your eyes.

He scoffed.

“I learned it from you.”

You felt something brush your side, you and Lo’ak both turn to see Neteyam take a spot next to you.

“Bro, where have you been? Being late for you is like-

Once in a lifetime.”

He nods, standing next to you.

“Had to make sure the ikran were tended to with a few others.”

He placed a hand on the small of your back, his gaze forged of soft honored gold, and deep skies.

“I fed Kailo and made sure he was tended to. He’s just fine.”

You mentally slap the shit out of yourself when you remember rushing to get spider to the lab so fast you dismounted Kailo without even noticing your companions weariness from the excitement.

“Shit- I completely forgot- fuck.”

You drag your palms down your face.

“It’s okay. He was fine. Still feisty as usual.”

The chuckle in his throat reverberated against the deep accent of his voice.

You felt yourself heat on the back of your neck.

“Thank you, Neteyam.”

He nodded, gently letting his hand fall back to his side.

“Yeah yeah, so kind of you-

Bro do you know what we’re even here for?”

Lo’ak not-so-subtly shoved himself between you and Neteyam pensively, unbothered by his clear dislike of your close proximity.

Lo’ak never loved the idea of you and neteyam being together. Not when you two were courting, and not now. Always pensive of you and Neteyam hanging out for too long, even doing together something as harmless as helping Mo’at back to her feet after a nap.

You always thought it was jealousy. Not the romantic type. The clan always told you that you and Lo’ak would make a beautiful match. But the thought felt like wearing clothes too big for you. Detached, displaced sense of stability. You loved Lo’ak. More than anything, you really did. But it wasn’t romantic. And Lo’ak clearly didn’t see you as wife material. 

That’s fine. He wouldn’t make a great wife either to be honest.

It confused you sometimes. Lo’ak often showed Neteyam off to you, praising him. You wondered if it was sarcasm, or just respecting his brother enough to not embarrass him, but not wanting you two to court again either.

It was a mess for another moment.

Neteyam shrugged, shaking his head.

“Probably just a debriefing. The hunt was…unexpected to say the least.”

You nodded, locking gazes with Lo’ak for a moment as you both had a silent conversation.

It wasn’t long before Jake arrived, the first thing he did was check on the three of you. Mo’at followed behind him, making her way straight for the center ahead the gathering. It wasn’t uncommon for Tsahik to be present and meetings like this.

“You kids alright?”

Placing a hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder, checking your hand and patting Neteyam’s back.

“We’re fine, sir. Just a few scratches.”

Neteyam affirmed, shifting on his feet slightly.

Jake sighed in relief, hugging both his sons, before dragging you into the hug.

“I’m proud of you boys. Did nice riding out there, Lo’ak. And your shot was right on line, Neteyam.”

Lo’ak didn’t show it, but you could tell he was smiling. He kept his gaze down, peering at the ground.

Neteyam nodded, a smile tugging at his lips as well. You found it cute that both Neteyam and Lo’ak, even at ages 19 and 18, were still excited about getting a compliment from the great Toruk Makto. Their father.

The two of them talked for a moment, you found your gaze drifting to Makeyo and his father. They were speaking in the crowd. Makeyo looked anxious. Almost tensed as his father kept a hand on his back, ranting in a whisper.

Jake lead the three of you to the front of the gathering, straying  from the crowd a bit. “Boys, do me a favor and go make sure we have everyone?”

Lo’ak and neteyam nodded, both jogging off to weave through the crowd and count heads of all the warriors they recognized.

As Neteyam and Lo’ak walked ahead, Jake placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you what you think spider called ‘a thumbs up’

“Nice shooting, sweetheart.”

He smiled proudly, sitting down next to you on one of the crevices.

You tried to conceal a smile of your own; your attempt pathetic as you smiled up at him like a child bringing home a freshly caught fish.

“Thank you.”

He ruffled your hair.

“Two for two shot-

Eywa, you never fail amaze me. What was it you and Neteyam did, the uhm, the two arrows in one-?”

“And one in the other. Something I’ve practiced with Lo’ak.”

You explained, smiling as he laughed.

“Genius. Absolutely.”

You two sat like that for a moment before neteaym and Lo’ak returned.

“Father, we are ready.”

Neteyam informed. Jake nodded, stretching as he stood to his feet.

Mo’at gently touched your back as she stood next to you.

Jake held a hand up, signaling the clan to be still and quiet.

“Thank you, my people for gathering. I’ll try to make this one quick.”

Jake’s lack of informality never seemed to not make you chuckle a bit.

“I have decided to make arrangements for the trainees in the war parties.”

He turned to the group that stood behind Makeyo and his father.

“It has come to my attention that some of you have clearly been ranked beneath your current abilities. And need more open field training.”

Open field training?

It was something you had back when you were 15. A few months after your parents passed. Jake started teaching you human tatical skills. How to use a gun, far distance targets, how to read radios and signals on old ships and navigate the screen charts on the controls. You so heavily insisted on having a position fighting the sky people. You worked, and you trained, until you became the most skilled warrior on your group. Even passing Neteyam and Lo’ak in your group.

Jake appointed you to his side. And you still at the realization that the moment he appointed you, it started with a meeting just like this.

Uncertainty shaved the hopeful soul that coated your bones. 

Jake continued.

“I have decided that the upper rank trainees will start with new practices. They will now be lead by Ka’ani. Awkey, you will lead the years younger.”

So it wasn’t what you thought. Your position remained, it seemed.

The sudden switch of teachers was a bit odd, nonetheless. 

Jake finished his speech minutes later. It was a short overview of new tactics the warriors would be learning. New places for target practice, and unfamiliar routines.

You didn’t mind the new schedules. It seemed like less of your day would be consumed in strategy sessions.

When he finished, the crowd started to disperse. Lo’ak went to speak with Awkey, leaving you with Jake, Mo’at, and Neteyam.

Makeyo and his father remained in their spots; as if waiting for a further instruction.

Makeyo’s father, Va’ru, was ambitious to a point it was farther than frightening. Constantly trying to put his son in first place. Like a cloud formulating a storm that swirled seated under restless skin.

Neteyam stepped forward, his tail flicked slightly.

“Dad, if Lo'ak's group will be with Awkey, does that mean I will be undergoing Ka’ani’s training?”

Jake shifts for a moment, as if trying to place his words in the right order.

“Yes and no. I have a different plan for you.”

Neteyam’s eyes widened only slightly, his tail flicking.

“Sir?”

He tilted his head.

Jake’s tone was clinging to remain inconcous as he saw Makeyo’s father approach.

“Olo’eyktan. I assume this is about the private lessons for Makeyo?”

Private lessons? Makeyo was going to take private lessons with Jake?

Makeyo seemed reluctant to engage in whatever was about to happen, gently tugging on his fathers arm.

“Father. Please. There was no certainty it would be me.”

His pleading falls deaf on his fathers ears.

“Va’ru. There has been a change.”

Jake speaks slowly, as if not to wake a sleeping thanator.

Va’ru is still for a moment.  

Neteaym steps forward, gently past his grandmother.

“What are we speaking of?”

He inquires, his own ounce of impatience slipping past his mask ever so subtly.

Jake sighs, rubbing his temple.

“This is not how things were supposed to go.

Over the last few weeks, I have been individually monitoring the warriors in your group to consider them for private lessons. Since Y/n is my most prominent warrior, she would be teaching the one I chose. My choice was Makeyo.”

Makeyo’s ears flicker upwards, and his father straightens, a smile forming on his face. It wasn’t genuine or even greatful. It was hungry, frenzied with torrid energy.

“Olo’eyktan. I would be honored to have Makeyo be taught under your most trusted archer.”

You felt your expression sour. Clearly uncomfortable with the energy that radiates off Va’ru.

Jake shakes his head.

“I have had a change of mind. As of a few days ago I have decided to give the role to Neteyam.”

This feels mosaic the moment you register his words. The figures around you now made of oddly shaped colors and sizes of glass. All the wrong shades.

You feel your fingers twitch and your mind go adrift. A blanket ablaze blanks your mind to a faceless slate. 

Alone. With Neteyam. 

The words swirl around like a whirlpool. A windless storm without the familiarity of chaos to stabilize the seas.

You try to place yourself in the vision but you can’t. You can’t seem to inhabit the precipice of this reality.

Your shaken away from the void of your thoughts as Jake places a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n. You will train Neteyam. Teach him the things I have taught you and your own ways. He will learn a lot from you. We’ll have another archer in our skies. More air combat support.”

You force yourself to nod and swallow, neteyam still seemingly frozen at the news.

Va’ru is clearly not pleased. 

“Olo’eyktan. With all due respect-“

The funny thing is, there’s not an ounce of respect in his tone. Its ironically edged, as if Jake’s decision is the height of audacity.

“Makeyo has been training. He’s familiarized himself with Y/n’s methods. He studies her.”

It doesn’t go unnoticed when Neteyam’s ears pin down, his gaze narrowing as the words ‘study her’ reach his ears.

You can’t blame him. It does sound fucked up.

Va’ru digs himself in a deeper hole this time.

“He trains the younger children with her. He spends most of his days with her. He’s dedicated his time, his-“

Jake cuts him off, his voice a bit sterner this time, and you can tell his patience is slipping away.

“It’s not about time. It’s about skill. Makeyo is a very talented warrior. There’s no doubt. He’s a strong archer. But neteyam has shown promise over these last few weeks. He’s worked to improve his knowledge on the air strike patterns of the RDA. Hes flown with me to scout the perimeters of hell’s gate. He’s ready to advance to start training with newer methods.”

Va’ru scoffs, taking a step back, your tail flicks.

“You throw your son in the highest place again and again. You choose to ignore the others potential.”

Jake wasn’t one for favoritism when it came to the honest work of his warriors. To suggest otherwise was offensive. 

Honor was valued among the na’vi. It was wrong to accuse him of just always picking neteyam. If anything, this was Neteyam’s chance. He had worked so hard to be seen by his dad. You knew this.

Jake took a breath to steady his urge to let this guy steal the last shred of tolerance he has left.

“Va’ru. Not infront of the others. We can speak privately-“

Va’ru’s tone was biting now.

“You cannot keep doing this. And your son can’t keep ‘running to daddy’ when he falls behind my son and can’t admit it.”

Something surged through the hungered veins under your skin. The fire never stayed absent for very long. Purging itself to cultivate on unsettled gilded flesh.

A hiss left you. The ardent prolonged end notes of something almost inhibited by a growl. A fervid, feverish vehemence whisped behind.

Va’ru’s eyes widened a bit, his prior confidence subduing under a sheet of hesitance.

Jake pushed you back a bit, a warning glare tossed towards your squirming figure to step forward once again.

“We can speak privately. But I will not allow you to insult the hard work of my son. Or question the expertise of Y/n.”

Va’ru and Jake agreed to talk privately, but you predicted just more arguing.

☾𖤓✮ ☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓✮ ☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮

Seeking solitude in the hidden caves of the mountainous cave of high camp, you settled with your anxiousness with one of the corridors above the first columns.

You paced back in fourth, cursing to yourself and throwing sharp stones at the wall.

You weren’t ready. You just weren’t ready.  The moment Jake and Va’ru left you ran for the farthest place you could find. You couldn’t bare to look at Neteyam.

Jake’s words from earlier pierce the surfaces of unsteady standing ground in your heart.

Love isn’t easy

Love isn’t easy

Love isn’t easy

You know what else isn’t easy? Having to spend all day with the man you used to dream about kissing. Loving. Hugging. Mating with.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your pulse quickens.

You remember that day. You remember the day though you waited for him under the rain. 

Under a lapis hued nightfall you were ready to give him your heart. Raw and bruised and blemished and every curve and dip and imperfection yearned for his touch.

But you fell in love with the sun. And you were undeserving of sunlight.

A boy made of flaxen fanned regrets and flamed forged promises.

You loved him. You didn’t love him for the son made of stone. Through the shifting shadows and vibrant visions of excellence engraved in ecstasy that echoed through disassembled pieces of manic daydreams.

You loved him. Tormented yourself with distance and fervent optimism. Idealisms too far to be attained.

This forbidden collision of the sun and the moon. 

And you waited. Damn yourself yet you waited. 

You waited for an explanation for his departure. A reason for this distance.

Weeping under a wild sky, disgusted with your own reflection. The sight of yourself just a poor effort of what you could have given him.

And then your family went somewhere you cannot follow, and suddenly he seeks remorse.

It’s unfair. It is so fucking unfair the nights you spent crying over the loss of his warmth. The sunlight felt cold. The warmth wind felt unfamiliar. 

And then you found the moonlight. The contingent comfort of dimmed sapphire hues and vengeance.

You refused to cry. You refused to be weakened. Your mother had seen fire and survived it. You had seen fire and burned with it-

And burn you will. Burn under the Sirius secrets whispered under the raptured intimacy of independence and its sweetening bindings.

So be it. So burn. bloodshed forging bones into bludgeons of tattered tears trains and scarred screams, soulless sleep.

Forgiveness surrounds itself in fractions of frustrations. 

You damned the sky starless because all the stars had fallen with your tears waiting for him. Waiting for the voices in your head to surrender and ricochet to the shallow corners of the planes traced lines on your palm.

You recount. Roll back and fast-forwards through every memory no longer remembered under glistening sunlight poured into liquid glass, and the hues of his golden eyes.

He was daylight. He wore a halo of Helios and draped warm flesh over sun-stained soulful essence to challenge the sea and the sky. A faint heartbeat under adrift moments scattered to a tethered wind. 

A man, a mask, and it’s burdens and bodies and sun-dried bones. He was a symphony and you, a mere half note of lost virtues.

Why must you constantly be at war with yourself? Why do you do this to yourself?

Do you hate him? 

Do you love him?

Do you want him?

You were nightfall.

Cascades of constellations and curls of lavender. A restless shade of reddened sunset, undertoned swirling and swept to hues of purple, orange, blue, a fiery sunset. Moonlight worn like a veil, tear-stained lips and blood stained hips and yet, oh how beautiful you were. Dark and delicately dressed in grief.

Sensationalize these bittersweet story endings and happily never after forever, then maybe some more.

To restrain this punishment, this internal unredeemable consciousness. 

Someone is behind you. Coming slowly into your peripheral view. 

You move quickly, drawing the knife on your hip and flipping it into your uninjured hand, steadying at the perpetrators throat.

“Shit! Easy, easy…”

Neteyam holds his hands up in defense, his eyes wide at your sudden movements.

“Y/n. It’s just me.” He cautiously lowers the knife in your hand.

Great. The man of the hour.

Oh eywa must have you fucked up if she thinks you’re dealing with this right now.

“Get out.” 

You didn’t mean to sound so punitive, but you were pissed, confused, and on the verge of tears. That was never a very delightful combo.

Neteyam shook his head.

“I can’t.”

“Neteyam I’m not going to tell you again. Get out. Please.”

Your voice cracked this time as you took a step forward. 

“Y/n please.” He begged. 

“Get out! Go! Leave! Fuera!”

You used every word you knew. Including another earth language spider had been teaching you. ‘Spanish’ is what he called it.

He winced, but only for a moment.

“I can’t. Because if I leave id just carry myself right back here.”

It satisfied you but it did nothing to console the ache in your heart.

“Then what do you want?”

You whispered.

“Another chance.”

Fuck.

You took a step away, running your palms down your face. Neteyam ignored the gesture, walking after you.

“It’s been years, y/n. I’ve dug my own grave and I’ve lied in it. I can’t eat or sleep properly anymore because it fucking eats me alive.”

Neteyam Sully was never one to curse. That was more of lo’aks calling card. So it stunned you slightly when he spoke in such a way.

You turned to face him. His golden hour eyes locking with yours.

“I don’t ask for your forgiveness. I only ask for you to hear me out.”

He took a breath.

“From the moment I was born, every single moment of my life feels like it’s been calculated. Staged, rehearsed, nothing was ever out of place. Everything was a plan- a strategy. I’m not asking for your pity but all I ask is that you understand. That life is all I’ve ever known, Y/n.

And then I fell in love with you. And you were just-“

He paces around as he walks. Talking with his hands, making grand gestures to try and articulate some spontaneous thought without really knowing what he was saying at all.

For every moment in his life being staged and prepared, this sure as hell didn’t seem rehearsed.

Maybe the sun-stained son made of stone broke like glass after all.

He continues stumbling over his words. It was rather unlike him. To be this outspoken and unequivocal with his words.

“You we’re just, Eywa I don’t know how to begin.

You were wild and unpredictable, so unbothered and reckless and passionate. You still are. You make the most dangerous shit I’ve ever seen in my life seem so graceful and beautiful. You care for my siblings, Tuk wants to quite literally ‘be y/n’ when she grows up and Lo’ak and Kiri would probably plot a mass murder if you asked them too. My mother and my father love you like one of their own. I don’t want what used to be between us ruin any of that. I’m tired of it, y/n. I’m tired of all the awkward formalities and hating eachother. And I’ll be damned if I’ve ever met a woman in my entire life who knows a bow and arrow like you do.”

You’re stunned. Everything he says sinks under your skin for a moment.

He takes a breath.

“Y/n. Please. Give me another chance. To be friends again. I miss you. I really do. You're going to be my teacher now. We shouldn’t be-“

“Just shut up for a minute.”

A small ‘yes ma’am.’ Leaves his lips as his gaze darts down a bit.

Now, if someone told you about 30 minutes from now you would be hugging neteyam sully, you probably would have called them crazy.

But now, as eywa as your witness, that’s exactly what you did.

He was still for a moment, and then he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you back.

You took a step back, smiling at him softly.

“Our first lesson starts as soon as my hand is healed. Don’t be late.”

And with that, you left.

Neteyam stood there for a moment before jumping up, fisting the air, a celebratory ‘fuck yes!’ Leaving his lips silently.

Maybe things made of stone can break like glass after all.

☾𖤓✮ ☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓✮ ☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮

Parallels:

Biggest parallel: the “hell yeah!” Line between neteyam and y/n is parallel to this scene between Jake and Neytiri.

Spider and Y/n - Tommy and Jake (two siblings, two sides of the same coin)

Y/n and Neytiri - (learning to love even through grief)

Y/n and Jake - (’soldier mentality’ and low self image because of trauma)

Lo’ak, Y/n and Neytiri - (rebelliousness) 

Spider and Neteyam- (oldest sibling responsibility)

Authors note:

I’m alive! I survived probably the longest chapter in this fic. I think I owe all my virago readers an apology. This chapter is WAY overdue. I'm sorry about that one, y'all.

But we're finally out of the enemy stage! And now I get to enjoy writing fluffy moments between neteyam and y/n, aka our resident virago and sun son made of stone.

So I just want to clear some things up before I wrap this up.

In my story, spider is a Spanish speaker. I read the original script and saw that he does speak Spanish in one of the scenes, and as a Spanish speaker and a spider stan that just warms my heart. Yes, a na’vi speaking Spanish might sound kinda cringe but it's my personal headcanon that spider would definitely teach y/n Spanish. 

Btw I just finished watching the hunger games so if anyone can catch all the Haymitch and Katniss references between y/n and Jake I will literally kiss you.

Remember to pleas like, comment, reblog, and as a request from me, please comment your favorite quote. trope, dynamic, or moment in this chapter or even the story so far.

Taglist

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange @thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

@0stargirl0

@heavenlysstuff

@dayyzlol

@iheartamajiki

[lupinescribbler]

Been thinking recently about this oddly specific trope of a character being emotionally vulnerable or honest in order to be able to connect with a kid they empathize with. I have slightly mixed feelings about it. On one hand it can be overdone, to where the child feels like a cardboard cutout just to elaborate on the protagonist’s traumatic backstory, but there are also a lot of cases that I liked it or thought it was done in an impactful way.

so I figured I’d walk through a handful of examples of this trope (does it have a name???) and give my personal thoughts on each. Spoilers for the episodes referenced of course. Because of image limit this will be part 1 of 2 and I’ll link the second when I get it up.

Supernatural S01E03.

This is one of my favorite iterations of this. Lucas's turmoil, fear, and mutism were portrayed with enough effort and thoughtfulness for him not to just feel like a cardboard cutout, and the way Dean interacted with him felt in-character while still showing a softer side to him. There's also a strong plot reason (Lucas being the only eye-witness) to drive their interactions, making each scene feel like it was striving for an important purpose instead of just ham-fisting 'traumatic backstory' angst.

The scene in the park is what really starts it off. The guy who couldn't name three children he knew a couple scenes earlier, has to try to coax answers out of a traumatized mute kid about said trauma. We see Dean meeting Lucas where he is (draws with him), tries to identify what Lucas might be feeling, ("Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you.") reassures ("I want you to know that I will.") and doesn't push it when Lucas seems unforthcoming.

While this scene overall is very soft and endearing, we get very little of Dean talking explicitly about his own trauma, just one vague line "When I was your age, I saw something." The whole scene is about what Lucas is feeling. Dean's feelings are there too, the audience is already supposed to be drawing parallels, but they are kept on the peripheral.

Then later in the episode we get the next Lucas and Dean scene. We've watched someone else die, upping the stakes. Here is where we really get the emotional vulnerability from Dean in a few blunt, heartbreaking, lines. Even more than that, we get a glimpse at Dean's why. Why the bravado, why he is the way he is. We also have this whole confession observed by Dean's younger brother, which -- trust me as an older sibling -- is excruciating.

Overall I think this works because a) Dean has a strong reason to be this emotionally vulnerable, there are literally lives resting on his ability to get through to Lucas. b) it had the space to be built up in multiple scenes throughout an entire episode and c) Dean is the exact type of character that needs some sort of push to be this emotionally vulnerable and earnest, so the trope just fits.

Magnum PI S01E01

This one is what I'd consider a slightly meh version of the trope. Not trying to offend anyone who found this scene specifically meaningful, but it fell flat to me. The intro joking about the dogs was good, Magnum trying to comfort his dead friend’s son was a good idea, but the “when I was your age, I lost my dad too” kinda lost me. I get he was trying to empathize with the kid, but it ended up feeling like the show was just trying to be like “look! He has a dead dad!”. Additionally the character of this kid felt flat and I don’t remember if he ever even cropped back up in the story outside of this episode or ever had a shred of personality.

In my opinion it might have worked better if they’d had Magnum talk about Nuzo instead of his father. Nuzo is the person both he and the kid cared about and lost, and while it still might have felt cheesy I think it would have felt more anchored to what the rest of the episode is about and helped to get the audience to empathize even more with the grief over a dead friend that drove the whole narrative for the pilot.

I really enjoyed the show overall, don’t get me wrong, and I’ll have another example of this trope in part two of this which — spoilers — I enjoyed a lot.

Would love to hear other people’s opinions of this if anyone sees it, and I invite disagreement.

[monkeydluffy19920]

Quick thoughts: One Piece chapter 1133

Still 100 years behind the canon story but trying to catch up and wanted to take a sneak peek on newer chapters because they appeared on the dash and I completely understand the hype now.

First of all, I'm happy that Oda-sensei returned Robin's pre-time skip look and even cuter is that Robin specifically requested it so it would resemble the haircut she had when she first met Saul. In general there isn't anything wrong with her post time skip look but I personally think the bangs makes Robin much more unique because well it was her look ever since she was introduced and it took some time to get used to the later look.

Frankly spoken once I mistook her once for Hancock by quick glance in chapter 857's cover page (before I noticed the earrings and the snake) maybe it was just because of the way Oda draws women or something?

Kinda had similar feelings with post timeskip Nami, that it took time to get used to the long hair and that a couple of times when scrolling manga way too quickly, I've mixed Nami with someone else a couple of times (and btw that Giant warrior woman, doctor Gerd was it? she also looks like a bit like Nami with the hairstyle and all). So, even though the long hair is stylish, I still think the shorter hair fits Nami better (but that viking hairstyle looks good on her though).

Another thing especially in anime that bothered with Robin's hairstyle was that sometimes Robin's forehead looked for some reason bigger so, definitely rooting on the team "Robin with bangs".

Anyway back to the chapter, the Straw hats arrived to Elbaf and are not only having a a reunion with the crew but also with Dorry and Brogy etc. That must've been such a nostalgia splash for all of them and then they hear Saul is there and this is another heartbreaking yet so darn beautiful moment ahead :')

It's honestly amazing how Oda is able to create such storytelling in general and also close the circles of plots even after hundreds of chapters. Robin started with someone who was abused by her relatives and was constantly on her toes for a long time whereas she simply craved for unconditional love after her mother not being able to be around much. She basically lived for Olvia's (and Saul's) will and in order to simply survive the next day until she met Luffy, her upcoming captain.

Now hundreds (thousands?) panels of later we have reached this point where Robin has a loving crew that she knows are extremely loyal to her. They are her safe place and she now pursuits her dream the fullest (not just to survive) .

So now to think about it, now Robin basically got some kind of closure with her past when meeting Saul 22 years later. It was also really nice of Oda to set the meeting with such a parallel, 22yrs ago and in the present Saul tried his "famous growl" once again with a spark in his eyes and Robin sparkles back and this time differently (like she has blossomed and isn't so reserved)

It was indeed a tearful reunion but I really love that Robin is finally able to let those emotions out, I mean when she was out of the run she was probably forced to "cold and distant herself" in order to stay alive (although she probably never forgot Saul's dereshi shi shi-laugh). She feels so relieved after seeing Saul and her being so happy things have changed in her life.

So, this chapter points out one the most important character improvement for Nico Robin: instead of living for others, she lives now for herself and sees her self worth and that definitely it's no more an crime for her to exist!

I really like that the crew were a bit worried about Saul and were basically prepared to help him but Robin says it's all fine and goes by herself but it seems that she still kind of wants to share this reunion with her beloved nakama because she doesn't say at any point they aren't allowed to be anywhere near. Well they stay in the background but still she feels safe enough to accept them to be around in this vulnerable moment.

There is by the way something extremely touching in Luffy's expression in the chapter's last panel. He must've felt loads of emotions too but look at that precious smile! He is so proud of how far Robin has achieved!

[animentality]

Tbh I think it's still legit if you read and like Blue Lock for being so gay (at least subtextually), despite being misogynistic Kaneshiro seems to have sympathy for queer people to a certain degree. Besides the gay sidekick, As The Gods Will also has some other queer side characters (a lesbian, a trans girl, a few more hinted gay boys and a non-binary villain according to my memory) even though not all of them are well-written, the good ones are good. Specifically my most favorite is the gay sidekick Ushimitsu, he's actually a pretty well-rounded character with very strong role as a co-lead in ATGW 2, I never feel like he was disrespected in the story (rather I think he's obviously Kaneshiro's favorite), sure he's got an open ending that can be seen as tragic but it's actually in line of the whole theme of the story and I respect Kaneshiro to commit to writing it rather than just give a copout happy ending and it also proves his gay feelings as real & deep despite heartbreaking.

Now I wish Kaneshiro can have that same energy in writing Bachira as he's in a similar position to Ushimitsu in ATGW but somehow poor bee boy got pushed aside in bllk after U20 arc (probably in favor of more popular Isagi ship with Rin or Kaiser 🙃), I hope he makes good on the promise that Bachira will be a key character later in the series and this time since nobody will die in Bllk I hope Bachisagi will get a deserved happy ending.

well that's the thing, anon.

I feel bad for liking blue lock because it has such a misogynistic creator but it's hard not to cling to something so obviously queer friendly.

like honestly.

there's definitely Japanese media that's queer neutral or queer friendly but blue lock actually feels like it's always on the verge of just being properly queer.

it's not fanservice like free or yuri on ice. it legitimately feels as close to canon as it can get without changing genres. and I think the creator having queer characters in the past gives him some street cred.

i know what homophobia in a manga looks like. it's that awful rapist character from one punch man. this hyper masculine but also hyper feminine muscly man who sexually assaults other men.

it's tokyo ghoul having its only queer characters being pedophiles, rapists, and sex addicts/victims who get sexually assaulted until they're "corrected."

it's having no subtext at all and only ever using gay men as a one off joke and gay women as a fetish.

at least blue lock does seem to respect its characters enough that it takes their hinted at sexualities seriously.

it really doesn't go for the obvious "ewwwwww we're both guys" jokes. it's kept very ambiguous. it's subtle (except when it's not, lol).

the only character who really fits the usual offensive gay anime representation tropes is Shidou, but even him I wouldn't count as bad rep (as the closest to canonically gay character, aside from Bachira).

Shidou might be super flamboyant but he also gets to have the coolest fucking moments in the series. he's not just some pervert, he's a badass. he doesn't just flounder around like some useless weird loser who only exists to be the butt of a joke.

he loves to fight and play soccer and feel alive. he has the coolest aura in the series and everyone is constantly in awe of the ridiculous things he can do.

he's a proper villain, who's out of pocket and insane, but who's also intensely lovable and silly. and honestly portrayed pretty sympathetically. for all his faults, he can be very kind.

there's a lot of depth to him, and honestly, I think Blue Lock is pretty good at not doing anything to suggest oh hahaha homosexuality exists. isn't that funny

plus I think Bachira is canonically gay. we know he's canonically in love with Isagi.

kunigami and aiku are actually confirmed bisexual too.

Shidou and Sae were also highly suspect during u20, to the point where even homophobes cant deny they have something weird going on.

so to me... that's a lot of queer characters who are taken seriously and actually have characters outside of being a joke or a gag. they feel like real people. they have distinct personalities.

the bar is in hell, but it's more than most manga/anime manage.

so I have to give Kaneshiro credit. he's doing as much as he can, without overstepping the boundary I'm sure kodansha has set for him.

it's just a shame he's a sexist. also, I hope Kaneshiro grows a pair.

just have bachisagi get married in the last chapter you pussy.

let Shidou officiate!!!