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kazekagevi · 3 months ago

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Bonds Beyond Words: If Eywa Wills It

PART ONE -- PART TWO -- PART THREE

Pairing: Aged-Up!Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Tags: dark themes, but this chapter is actually very fluffy and silly, Lo'ak and Kiri and Spider becoming reader's besties, many attempts at comedy, eventual NSFW, aged-up! Neteyam (and Lo'ak, Spider, and Kiri), reader has PTSD, Neteyam dislikes humans (except for you), eventual jealous/possessive Neteyam, future Olo'eyktan! Neteyam, enemies-to-lovers, interspecies slow burn, angst, fluff, probably OOC, POV’s all over the place, forgive the inconsistencies.

Summary: You're not allowed to join the community until Jake Sully decides you're ready. Spider, Lo'ak, and Kiri teach you Na'vi.

A/N and Disclaimer: I tried my best to use some Navi language translators and the LearnNavi website to write this chapter, but there are bound to be language errors. I also know time works differently there. Sorry for all the inconsistencies!

This story contains explicit content and is only appropriate for audiences 18+. MDNI. Please do not repost my work.

The science shack isn’t so bad.

Your initiation begins after your first sleep that night. The next morning, Max and Norm put their research projects on hold to give you an actual, legitimate tour of the facility. The place is full of bells and whistles. Tiny buttons, translucent screens, and telecommunications. Technology is abundant; but your knowledge of how to use it is not.

“Here is the airlock control panel,” Max explains. He hovers his palm over a sensor—when it flashes sage green, the user interface appears. “Once you’re ready to interact with the community, we’ll scan your handprints and give you full clearance,” he futhers.

You’re helplessly eager. “Do you know when that will be?” you inquire.

Max presses the controller in the center of the panel. The glass door to the inner chamber slides open. You peek your head inside the airlock space—there are respirator masks for both humans and Na’vi, as well as a broom in the corner.

“I put that there,” Max says, referring to the broom. He’s stealthily ignoring your previous question. “Told Spider he needs to sweep after himself. He refuses to use the doormat outside. I think the only person who’s touched that broom has been me.”

You look at the ground. The floor of the airlock space isn’t as bad as you’d expect it to be. Admittedly, it’s filthy. There are mud stains of both human and Na’vi footprints on the vinyl floor. The size difference is jarring.

You have an idea. You smirk to yourself. “What if I cleaned this mess for him?” you offer. “I’ll sweep, then mop. I need to start pulling my weight, too.”

Max sighs. “What? So you can put on one of those masks and sneak out before the Olo'eyktan says you’re ready?”

Your expression sours. “You didn’t have to say it like that,” you reply. “I wasn’t going to sneak out,” you admit aloud. “I was going to accidentally open the front door or something with a mask conveniently in place. It’s not as deceitful that way.”

Max sighs again. “Well, I have no say in when you’re ready,” he confesses. “That decision is only Jake’s to make.”

You have no choice but to yield. Max taps the censor again. The airlock door falls shut into place.

---

It takes an entire day to simply show you how everything works. It takes two more for you to demonstrate you were paying attention and know how to use everything. The only intuitive mechanisms are the knobs to the showers and the dials on the washer and dryer.

Like in any society, the science shack has its own set of rules, regulations, and norms—quite literally, since Norm transfers between his human body and Avatar frequently. The showers are closed once every twenty-five days for necessary maintenance. Humans aren’t to leave when the Na’vi are sleeping or on significant Omatikaya holidays. Don’t talk to Max before he’s had his first coffee. Spider is supposed to sweep after himself in the airlock room. You can’t use Mia’s handleless mug, but you’re allowed to wash it if you’re extra careful.

By the end of the week, your head hurts.

You know the only way to become proficient in something, like speaking a new language or utilizing advanced technology, is to thrust yourself into it. Take the plunge—don’t fear it. Embrace the nosedive. Freefall.

So, after dinner on your seventh day, you get as close to doing that as possible. You sit on a small perch by a tiny window, nestled in a corner of the science shack. You’re hungry; for one, Norm’s cooking tastes much worse when you’re not famished, so you couldn’t force yourself to go back for seconds, let alone finish everything on your plate.

But also, you’re hungry for something else. Now that you’re safe from the RDA, you can actually consider doing what you came to Pandora to do all along. You can practically taste it.

You know Jake Sully is right. Life in the science shack is complicated enough, and you need adequate time to acclimate. But you’re starting to feel like you’re trapped.

The window allows you to see a slice of life at High Camp. You come here around the same time after a meal, just like clockwork. You haven’t seen Jake Sully since your conversation, but you’ve seen many others.

Just right now, you see a group of young women shuffle past, laughing and gossiping about who knows what. You see two kids, presumably siblings, one chasing after the other, before they’re stopped by one of the village’s elders. You see injured warriors limp towards the tsahìk’s tent. You see a woman in her homestead, weaving a basket. You feel nothing but sonder; the profound sensibility that these people are all living complex lives of their own, and you’re simply witnessing these complexities unfold right before your eyes.

You begin to recognize a few faces, like that of the shaman healer, otherwise known as the tsahìk. You also take note of which warriors visit her tent most frequently.

You routinely see a Na’vi female with short, straight jet-black hair. She tends to pass by the science shack every evening of every day, stare at the door, frown, then leave. On two occasions, your eyes met before she wandered off.

You’ve learned a few more common phrases, which Norm, Max, Spider and Mia teach you at meal times. Kaltxì is a standard greeting. Rutxe means please, and irayo means thank you. Ngafkeyk pefya? means ‘how are you?’

You also learned that the lines you recited to the Na’vi in the forest, Neteyam, were of a standard dialect. They weren’t incorrect, just slightly different from that of the Omatikaya’s. And, allegedly, your pronunciation was off.

In your extensive travels on Earth, you learned quickest when you immersed yourself in a new, unfamiliar environment. It was the rush—the thrill, the trepidation—that drove you to adapt. It was as just as you told Jake Sully: so I will.

Immersion is the only way. Norm knows this too; as an exceptional xenolinguist, he learned more from interacting with the Na’vi for a few weeks than he did from reading any book. He really understands. He wishes he had more time to help with your studies, but he must return to his work. His newest botany project is time sensitive.

As you sit by the window, you use an electronic tablet programmed with a basic flashcard feature to get yourself acquainted with the Na’vi language. It’s not particularly helpful, since spoken practice is more beneficial than anything written. You’ve been skimming some of Jake’s old journals, too. But at the time of their conception, he wrote only in English, and misspelled many Na’vi words and phrases.

The flashcards do nothing besides test your aptitude for memorization. It doesn’t help that your attention span is elsewhere, like you left it on a far, distant planet.

Everytime someone passes by the window in your peripheral vision, you have no choice but to look up and see who’s there. It’s usually another Na’vi face you’ve never seen before. You don’t realize it initially, but the more you turn your head, you’re helplessly aware that you’re looking for someone. It never is, but you’re hopeful it might be Neteyam—you still owe him for saving your life. You have an inkling however, that he’s probably avoiding this place for one reason or another. That very reason might just be yourself.

It’s obvious that this method of study is inefficient. You power off the tablet and continue people-watching with your knees tucked against your chest.

Any moment now, you know you’ll see that girl with shoulder-length hair. You want to know why she frowns, but you don’t know how to ask ‘what’s upsetting you?’ in Na’vi.

Now that you think about it, though, you’re unsure if that’s a wise idea. Even when you are allowed into the community, you know that you will have to keep a distance. Know your place. Although the humans and Na’vi residing here coexist in apparent harmony, you don’t want your presence to disrupt the peace.

There’s a quiet knock on the other side of the airlock door across the main room—it’s so faint you almost miss it.

When you sit up, you hear footsteps thudding against the vinyl flooring. You see Spider look around then over his shoulder as he approaches the door.

He begrudgingly places his hand over the scanner. He presses a button and the front of the airlock opens.

He quietly shouts something in Na’vi—skxawng. You’re not sure what this word means yet.

From your window perch, you can’t see what’s going on, but Kiri and Lo’ak enter the space through the main door. They each grab a respirator.

Spider continues to say things you don’t understand. From his tone of voice, he seems slightly agitated.

“You can’t be here,” Spider says to both of them in Na’vi. “Not until the new girl gets introduced to the community.”

Lo’ak takes a deep breath—the respirator in his hand looks so small. He’s almost as tall as his father now. As the years pass, Lo’ak just gets bigger and bigger. It makes him feel like Spider is shrinking.

“C’mon man,” Lo’ak says. “Let us in. We’ll only take a minute,” he adds, wearing a devious smirk on his face. “I uh, forgot something when I was here last?” he tries.

“Yeah, right,” Spider replies.

“Lo’ak, you’re not helping my case,” Kiri says, glaring at her older brother.

Lo’ak’s jaw drops. He scoffs at her. “You told me to come with you!”

“Yes, and it turns out you’re not helping!” Kiri hisses.

Spider groans. “Can you two just leave? I don’t want to get any flak for this.”

Kiri grits her teeth. She places both of her hands on the glass separating them. “Please, Spider. I haven’t seen Mom in forever,” she says. Her eyes water. “It hasn’t been this long since the time we lived in Awa'atlu… I miss her.”

The crease between Spider’s brows disappears. From what you can see, he looks apologetic. “Oeru txoa livu,” he says to Kiri. “But I’m not supposed to let anyone in besides your dad.”

Lo’ak’s expression falters. He looks at his feet. His ears fall flat. “You know, I haven’t seen Tsireya since we left Awa'atlu,” he says just loud enough for Spider and Kiri to hear.

Spider rubs his nose bridge. Kiri sighs and flicks his temple with her fingers. Once Lo’ak starts talking about Tsireya, he can’t stop.

While this interaction continues to transpire, you stand from your perch and tiptoe over. Your footsteps are padded by thick, cotton socks. You advance slowly, like you’re approaching a crime scene covered with caution tape.

“Lo’ak, go home and go to bed,” Kiri says, poking his chest. She then spins back around. “Spider, let me in, please.”

“I’m sorry, Kiri,” Spider replies. “You know I would if I could.”

Kiri places her hands on her hips. “You can, very easily, actually. Just press the button,” Kiri says. She points to the spot where she knows it is on the other side of the door. “It’s right there.”

Spider sighs. The crease in his brow returns when he realizes Lo’ak is suddenly smiling. “Why are you doing that?”

Lo’ak waves to you from the other side of the airlock. “Hi!” He greets you in English. “What’s your name?”

Spider jolts when he realizes you’re standing there right behind him.

Kiri gasps. Her eyes go wide—they practically sparkle when she’s excited. “I told you, I saw her!” she says to Lo’ak in Na’vi.

You smile at the male and female Na’vi before you. They seem so friendly, and the male Na’vi’s English sounds great. “Hello there,” you reply. You formally introduce yourself.

Spider presses a palm to his temple. He knows he’s going to get in trouble.

“It’s nice to meet you!” the female Na’vi says, also in English. “I’m called Kiri. And this is my older brother, Lo’ak.”

That’s his cue—Lo’ak waves again, flashing his vibrant smile.

Spider scoffs.

“My good brother here, Spider,” says Lo’ak, “this skxawng,” he adds, more quietly, “was about to let us inside.”

“I was not,” Spider protests.

“C’mon,” you say. Spider rolls his eyes—you’ve just met Lo’ak but he’s already infected you with whatever ailment he has that makes him the way that he is. At the same time, however, Spider knows it’s one of the best things about him.

“Why can’t we let them in?” you ask. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened to you in five days.

“Exactly,” says Lo’ak. “Let us in,” he chants quietly.

“The door isn’t broken, is it?” you further, keeping a serious demeanor. “I’ll just check to make sure it works,” you tell Spider.

“Wait–”

The airlock’s inner chamber door opens, allowing Lo’ak and Kiri entry.

“Would you look at that,” you profess. “I know how the door works.”

Lo’ak chuckles as he strolls inside like he owns the place. Kiri rushes past the three of you, making a beeline for the large container in the middle of the main room. She presses her palms against the glass and whispers to the Avatar stuck inside. Your brows furrow in confusion.

“You were right,” Lo’ak mutters to Spider in English. “She is short, even for a human.”

Your jaw goes slack. A surprised chuckle falls from your lips. “If you call Spider skxawng, then what are you?” you can’t help but retort.

He grins. “If there was a clan of a hundred skxawng’s,” Lo’ak says, “they would have no choice but to make me their leader.”

You laugh again—harder than you were expecting to. This Na’vi might be an ass, but at least he’s got a sense of humor.

Spider groans again. “If you two knuckleheads stay, you have to keep it down,” he says.

Lo’ak puts his hands up, defensively.

“Can I ask what she’s doing over there?” you say aloud.

Kiri now has her face pressed against the glass. It fogs from her breath.

Spider and Lo’ak look at each other. Lo’ak rubs the back of his neck before speaking: “it’s a long story, but that’s the Avatar of Kiri’s biological mother. Kiri is my adoptive sister.” Lo’ak then hums to himself. “Maybe it’s not such a long story, after all.”

That’s why she looked so sad. She simply missed her Mom.

You blink once. “Oh, alright.” You nod, looking at Spider. “All of that information about Mia’s coffee mug was really important, but this,” you say, gesturing to the tube in the center of the room. “Not so much.”

Spider shrugs. “It’s important,” he says. “But, this is just commonplace for all of us.”

“She’s been doing this since we were kids,” Lo’ak reaffirms.

“Maybe we’re blind to it,” Spider offers. “It’s always there, so we can’t even see it if it’s right in front of us.”

Lo’ak simpers. “Well said.”

“Thank you,” says Spider. He grins.

They nod together and rub their chins like idiots. You assume this must be a regular thing for them.

“Skxawngs,” you say.

Of course, they both look your way, as though you’ve called them by their birth name.

“Did I use that properly?” you ask in English.

They nod. You sigh woefully.

Lo’ak practically snatches such low-hanging fruit: “What’s got you all blue?”

You can’t help but glare at him. “They say you don’t know a language unless you know how to properly insult someone,” you say. “But I don’t actually know any useful Na’vi, and I haven’t had a conversation with anyone. Half of the words I know are just insults!”

“Simmer down,” says Spider. “You learned plenty today,” he says.

“And, last I heard, you did have a conversation with someone,” Lo’ak mutters.

Spider crosses his arms over his bare chest and looks you in the eye. “We’ll do our best to teach you.”

“Then teach me,” you reply, glaring daggers his way.

Spider’s eyes narrow. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. A couple of hours ago, you were enthusiastic. Now, you’re starting to get on his nerves.

Spider then looks over at Kiri, and makes an almost silent whistling noise. In response, Kiri’s ears twitch and she peeks over her shoulder.

“What the hell did you just say to her?” you demand.

“Oh, that?” Spider chuckles dryly. “I didn’t say anything, yet.”

“What is it?” Kiri calls back to him.

When Spider responds, he speaks entirely in Na’vi. When Kiri replies to him, she does the same. Spider then turns to you, speaks only in Na’vi again, then laughs. He says something else. Laughter erupts. Kiri and Lo’ak follow suit.

You have no choice to presume they’re talking shit about you in their native language.

In reality, they’re saying things that make no sense just to get you riled up. The first thing Spider told Kiri was “let’s pretend like we’re making fun of her. Keep going along with it until I say stop.”

Needless to say, they play their roles with great conviction, like actors on a stage. They fool you.

“You guys are dickheads! That’s enough.”

They finally stop when you fold your arms over your chest and start pouting; but they don’t stop laughing until Norm yells from down the hall to, in his words, ‘tone that shit down.’ When they’re caught, Spider purses his lips, and Kiri and Lo’ak takes deep breaths from their respirator masks in unison.

“You’re incredibly impatient,” Spider admits, lowering his voice. Lo’ak nods in agreement. You’re all sitting around the tube that holds Grace’s Avatar. Kiri traces small shapes on its surface with her lithe fingertips.

“And you three,” you say, pointing at each of them, “are a bunch of jesters.”

“No, you’re a jester,” says Lo’ak. He doesn’t even know what that word means, not in English anyway.

“That’s exactly what a jester would say.” You groan in frustration. “I am impatient, but you don’t have to say it so directly,” you reply. Your expression is downcast and dejected.

You want to learn the language. You want to be able to talk to people. You want to carry out conversations, and learn, and laugh, and cry. You want to become a phoenix, rising from the ashes of an otherwise hopeless situation. You’re here, you’re alive, yet you don’t feel that way. Not at all.

You don’t want to feel like an outsider. You don’t want to live life from a bird’s eye view, on your little perch by the tiny window. You don’t want to feel like a canary in a cage. You don’t want to feel like a fish in a large, technologically-advanced bowl. Or like a beetle in a glass jar with holes poked in the top. You don’t want to be alone. You don’t want to be locked away in the science shack, just like how you were in the RDA’s basement.

Your eyes water. How could it be? Have you simply gone from one prison to another?

“You may be impatient, but I think you’ll fit in with us just fine,” Lo’ak interjects. He smiles genuinely. After a few moments, so do Spider and Kiri.

You wipe your eyes. Your face feels hot.

Kiri calls you by your first name, grasping hold of your attention. “Don’t worry. We’ll teach you to speak Na’vi, and you’ll be just like the rest of us,” she says affectionately.

“I don’t know about that,” Lo’ak mutters.

There’s a pregnant pause. You, Spider, and Kiri expect him to say that you’ll never be a true Na’vi, or something of the sort. You weren’t raised as such, like the three of them.

“She won’t grow another foot overnight,” Lo’ak says finally. He looks right at you with a shit-eating grin. “You’ll never be as tall as we are.”

“Well said,” Spider remarks.

---

Kiri and Lo’ak can’t stay for much longer—they have to sneak back to their tent before Jake Sully finds out what they’ve been up to.

“They won’t get in trouble if he finds out, right?”

You and Spider are the last two awake. You’re sitting at the kitchen table.

Spider waves his hand around nonchalantly. “They never do,” he says. There’s a brief pause. “Okay, sometimes Lo’ak does,” Spider adds. “But never Kiri or Tuk. You’ll meet her eventually. She’s the youngest sibling.”

“Alright, so there’s the three of them. Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk. And Neytiri is their mother, right?”

“Four of them,” Spider corrects you. “Neteyam is the oldest. One year older than Lo’ak.”

You blink. “Neteyam is the Olo'eyktan’s eldest son? The one who found me?”

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” Spider retorts.

You glare at him. “Yes, that’s what you said, only a whole week late!” You whisper-shout at him. “Just like with Kiri’s biological mother.”

Spider throws his hands up. “I guess I thought someone already told you,” he says defensively. “You talked to Jake, right?”

“Right,” you reply. “But he didn’t mention anything about Neteyam being his son. Didn’t mention anything about his children actually.”

“With all that you went through with those fuckers, he may have thought it could be taken as insensitive,” Spider suggests.

You hum. Maybe, just maybe, Spider’s right.

“Kiri works in the tsahìk’s tent during the day. Lo’ak puts in the least amount of effort necessary to be considered one of the warriors,” Spider says. “He’s usually around, but oftentimes not. Either way, we will find time to help you learn Na’vi.”

“Is Neteyam one of the warriors?” you ask.

Spider nods. “These days, he’s become one of the best.”

Your thoughts drift back to when Neteyam found you. You were practically ambushed—he was so controlled, so swift with his movements. Spider’s words don’t surprise you.

“So, he’s busy all the time?”

Spider addresses you by name. “What are you getting at?”

“I still need to thank him,” you confide. “He can’t avoid me forever.”

Spider sighs. “He can try,” he mutters.

“So, he is avoiding me?” you ask. Your cheeks are turning red again.

“He’s…” Spider begins. He looks distraught. “He wasn’t always like this,” Spider says. “Neteyam and I are cool, but he never sets foot inside this place if he doesn’t have to. Ever since the Sully family returned from living with the Metkayina, the Reef People, he doesn’t get along with Norm and the others like Kiri and Lo’ak… He merely tolerates the scientists here.”

“You’re saying he hates humans,” you say bluntly.

“Hate is a strong word,” Spider replies. “But he has many reasons to dislike them…” Spider swallows. “To dislike our kind.”

The words fall from your lips: “you’re right.”

You begin to question whether or not you should follow through with thanking him for saving you. The interaction with Kiri and Lo’ak went so well—perhaps it gave you an ounce of hope, things might go smoothly with Neteyam too. He’s been on your mind constantly, replaying in your thoughts like a broken record. You’re certain there are other Na’vi who share similar sentiments. You have to be careful.

“Don’t think about it too hard,” says Spider. He stands from the table. “I’m going to sleep,” he says plainly. His footsteps fade as he walks to the barracks.

Spider’s sympathies do very little to ease your mind.

---

Spider kept his word. Kar is teach. Karyu is teacher, and Karyunay is apprentice teacher. Ayfo kar nga—they teach you.

In the days—and eventually, weeks—to come, you fall into a new routine.

You study Na’vi during the day-time hours. The science shack isn’t so bad. Sometimes, if he’s available, Norm works with you on your phonetics and grammar. But typically, it’s just you, your electronic tablet, and your perch by the windowsill.

When you learned other Earth languages in the past, it was easier to learn other languages in proximity to their language group with which you were familiar. Romance languages, such as Spanish, French, and Italian, bore many similarities. The same went for Germanic languages, and even some Sino-Tibetan languages.

Na’vi, however, is completely different from any language you’ve spoken, or even attempted to learn. But your dedication is unwavering.

Lo’ak and Kiri return to the science shack two days after your first encounter with them.

“Okay, Spider was right. At first, he was angry,” Kiri says. She takes a deep breath through her respirator. “But then, I suppose he thought about it more and decided it was a good idea after all.”

Jake Sully has given Lo’ak and Kiri his word of approval to help with your studies at nightfall, as long as they don’t slack off their usual duties.

“He thinks it’s a good ‘method of assimilation’ or some shit like that,” adds Lo’ak.

You nod. “He’s right,” you say.

“Yeah, whatever,” Lo’ak admits nonchalantly. “Sometimes.”

You all sit on the floor around Grace’s tube again.

“Well,” you clear your throat. “Today, I studied grammatical structure and simple, common vocabulary. Maybe we could start with-”

“Nga za‘u ftu peseng?” Spider asks. He’s asking ‘where do you come from?’

You blink. It takes a moment for the cogs in your brain to rotate. But in due time, you register his question.

“I come from Earth,” you reply in English.

“If you really want to learn,” Spider says, “you should reply in Na’vi.”

You should. The only issue is, you’re not sure how. But you have no choice but to give it a try.

You fail the first time. The second time, you almost get it right—close enough to where Kiri pries her eyes away from her mother to give you a look of encouragement and a thumbs up.

“You’re almost there,” says Lo’ak. He straightens his posture, no longer slouching against the glass tube. “But if you don’t want to sound like a baby learning their first words, you need to change up the word order. For myself, I would reply with ‘za‘u oe ftu Eywa’eveng.’ Which means in English, ‘I come from Pandora.’ Your reply, obviously, is going to be a little different.”

Lo’ak pauses, takes a breath from his respirator, then mimics your higher-pitched voice, speaking as you would reply in Na’vi.

His impression of you is already spot on. “I don’t sound like that!” you protest.

They all laugh, and you can’t help but join them.

For the rest of the evening, the three of them ask you simple questions in Na’vi. All you have to do is reply, also in Na’vi. The longer you go, the easier it gets. You build upon the scaffolding of your day-time studies, as well as every question and response before the next.

---

This continues for many nights.

During the days when you’re sitting by the window and Lo’ak and Kiri pop into frame, you instinctively smile and wave to them. They always reciprocate.

They don’t say it outwardly, but the two of them look forward to these evenings with you. They get to spend more time with Spider. And, although they’re both fluent in English, the practice benefits them, too. Plus, they’ve taken a liking to you as well.

“Who the hell are you waving at, skxawng?” Neteyam asks Lo’ak one day. They’re about to head off on their ikrans to train. Lo’ak needs to learn a new hand-to-hand technique. Neteyam is conveniently out of your line of sight.

“I’m waving to the new girl!” Lo’ak exclaims. He continues waving. He’s practically beaming.

Neteyam huffs.

“Her pronunciation is getting much better,” Lo’ak says. His arm falls to his side again. “But it honestly wasn’t bad to begin with,” he adds. “Do you think you were, perhaps, exaggerating?”

“No,” Neteyam answers curtly. He looks agitated—his ears twitch and his tail swishes wildly. “She’s a distraction." You're proving Neteyam's point. Lo'ak won't stop waving. Neteyam groans. "Hurry up, Lo'ak. We have things to do,” he says. When they were younger, Neteyam would’ve slapped Lo’ak’s bicep or grabbed him by the ends of his hair, but he’s a man now. He can’t show his impatience or impulsivity.

Lo'ak disappears from your vantage point.

---

It’s already been a month. Your diligent practice is starting to pay off.

You can hold very basic conversations in Na’vi. You’re learning more about the language and culture every day.

They don't want to feed your ego, but your teachers have discovered you're a fast, proficient learner.

“Syep means 'to trap.' It’s a verb,” Lo’ak explains to you in English. He’s lying on the floor with his legs propped up on a chair from the dining table. Suddenly, he swings his feet from the chair, and stands to his feet.

You don't want to feed any of their egos either, but they're all smarter than they think. Especially Lo'ak.

“Spider, peseng lu syeprel?” Lo’ak asks.

You’re unsure what a syeprel is, but you know he’s asking where it’s located.

“I think it’s in the supply closet, over there,” Spider replies in Na’vi.

“What’s a syeprel?” you ask, also in Na’vi.

“Take a guess!” Lo’ak calls from down the hall.

You hum. You switch back to English: “Well, it must be a particular type of trap? Like a mouse trap or something?”

Kiri hums too. “It does technically trap something,” she says after a few moments. “But you’re thinking too literally,” she adds with a smirk.

You scratch your head. You’re dumbfounded.

“A-ha!’ Lo’ak says triumphantly. “I’ve found it.”

“Found what?” you call.

“Ask nicely,” says Kiri. “In Na’vi.”

You try again. “Rutxe,” you say, slightly embarrassed. You do as you’re told, and ask in Na’vi.

Lo’ak returns. He’s holding an ancient piece of technology—an extremely old hand-held digital camera with a slightly scratched lens. “Say cheese!”

He snaps a photo of you, Spider, and Kiri lounging around on the floor. None of you were prepared.

Kiri sighs and glowers at him. “Lo’ak!”

Lo’ak chuckles. “Alright, alright. We’ll take another one.”

The four of you stand around Lo’ak, the camera operator. “Kiri, crouch down a little bit,” he says, directing your places. “Spider, lean closer to Kiri.” You hear Spider sigh.

Lo’ak then glances at you over his shoulder. “Stand on your toes, tawtute. Or else you won’t be in frame,” he chides you with a sly smile.

You do just that and smile for the syeprel. “You’re an ass, Lo’ak,” you say through your teeth.

“Smile, everyone!” he sings in Na’vi. Lo’ak spins the camera around to take a photo of everyone while operating it at the same time. He smiles and snaps another photo. The flash is momentarily blinding.

You break free from your pose. “So, a camera is called syeprel?”

“Yes, it is.” replies Lo’ak in Na’vi. “It traps a moment in time, doesn’t it? Rel means like an image, or a picture,” he adds in English.

It’s clicking. Your jaw goes slack. Spider can’t help but chuckle at your expression.

“Language learning is so cool,” you gawk.

“You sound just like Norm,” says Kiri.

“Whatever,” you say in Na’vi. You switch back to English again. “There are lots of animal names in English like that. Anteaters eat ants. Junebugs come out in the month of June to find mates. Grasshoppers hop around in the grass. Centipedes are named after their one hundred legs.”

“Now you really sound like Norm,” Kiri teases you. “Don’t start talking about plants too, or I’ll have to go home.”

“What about bed bugs?” asks Spider. “I've only heard of them from the others. Never seen them here. I’m assuming they would be found in your bed?”

You nod.

Kiri hums, thinking. “What about butterflies then?” she asks. “I know that butter comes from milk and milk comes from Earth cows, but could they make butter too?”

You scrunch your nose at the mere thought of butterfly butter. “I don’t think so.”

Lo’ak can hardly contain his laughter. “What about cockroaches?”

Kiri smacks his chest. Lo’ak half-groans, half-cackles. Kiri scolds him in Na'vi, but it's not long before she starts laughing too.

You and Spider follow suit. From down the hall, Norm calls for you four to keep it down again.

But you can’t stop. In fact, Norm’s complaints make it worse. Joyous laughter fills the room. You’re having the time of your life. For the second time since your escape, you think this must be heaven. You’re briefly reminded of your imprisonment—you remember the few times you laughed with your cellmates. You remember those slivers of euphoria.

You also remember that you’re safe now. The science shack isn’t so bad. Not with Spider, and Kiri, and Lo’ak, and even Norm, and Max, and Mia, and all the others.

You laugh until your ribs hurt. You laugh until tears well in your eyes.

---

A/N: This chapter was so fun to write! I hope you guys had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Again, please forgive any language inconsistencies.

Don't worry my darlings! Neteyam is going to be all over the next chapter. Believe in the slow burn!

And thanks again for all the kind comments, reblogs, and notes. You guys are awesome!

Taglist: @m1tsu-ki @promnightbinbaby

#avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #self insert #self insert fanfiction #x reader #neteyam sully x reader #atwow

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carigm · 2 years ago

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Today Millie had a fan panel in which she answered that her ideal ending would be Mike and El getting married and Will being happy and confessing to Mike (lol) and ofc the Stranger Things fandom kicked up the old Byler vs Mlvn war once again, regardless of the fact she doesn’t write the show. But I want to break down some points here about things I’ve been noticing today, but also for a while and that I think need to be discussed. Keep reading if you want.

I’ve seen a lot of hostility towards Byler and Bylers on Twitter lately, saying we’re delusional and don’t know what we’re talking about. This always seems to be the go to argument even tho it’s all in the narrative. Today it got really bad after Millie’s comments and even people that were merely disagreeing with her opinions got called everything from delusional to misogynistic.

IF the Duffers suddenly decided to ignore everything they’ve carefully crafted and put into their narrative that doesn’t make anyone delusional, it just makes them terrible writers. Who would be doing a great disservice to all three characters involved in the love triangle.

There’s been an insurgence (on Twitter) of so called “Will stans” who seem to be completely fine with the idea of mlvn being endgame because “Will can just get another boyfriend” Not only is this insulting to what the writers have already established for Will’s character but it’s also a defense and endorsement of the worst kind of lazy/bad writing that could graze our screens.

The Duffers CHOSE to tie Will’s character arc to Mike’s and El’s.

How do you expect them to undo that and create a well fleshed out character that’s deserving of Will, in 8 episodes that we know are not just gonna be dedicated to Will’s supposed love interest, because there’s a shit ton of stuff to resolve?

If this was the route the Duffers were going for, they could’ve clearly given Will a love interest last season (like with Robin) or two seasons ago (like with Dustin) And yet somehow, people think it would be totally okay for Will to get the most meaningless romance of all time as the writers ignore the same story they’ve created.

Another point I’ve been seeing a lot from these people is “Mike won’t come out. Let it go. He’s just a very unlikable character” What does that say about the quality of the writing and content you’re willing to consume then? You’re okay with characters being poorly written? And please someone explain to me how Mike’s actions, especially in S4, make any sense unless he likes Will.

The more people try to simplify this story the more plot holes and inconsistencies it creates.

The funny thing is that a lot of these “Will stans” used to be Bylers themselves but are so deathly afraid it won’t be endgame that they’ve started to use the same rhetoric mlvns use every day to justify what would be atrocious writing.

And this next thing might be controversial but I think it needs to be said.

So many people on Twitter have hit those who disagree with Millie’s opinion today with “y’all are misinterpreting Millie’s words” and let me tell you, no one has. She’s been saying the same stuff for forever and quite frankly she’s never had a coherent thought about Will. Which is fine, at the end of the day that’s not the character she plays. However, I haven’t forgotten how last year (at another panel) she was asked about Byler and said it was just a reflection of Finn and Noah’s friendship and that was what people were seeing…

Whatever the fuck that means, I guess.

Again, I’m not taking her answer today too seriously cause truth be told she’s been saying some version of this since she was around twelve, and has even at times said she was joking about it. If a wedding were actually happening she wouldn’t be able to say it cause I’d literally be a spoiler, even if she doesn’t have the scripts yet or doesn’t know I’m sure there’s things that would be off limits for any actor to say at this point.

But this defense squad that formed today begging for us to not misconstrue her words because “she really cares about Will’s character” is laughable.

Her answers regarding the topic of the love triangle have been anything but nuanced. If she doesn’t want to get into it or address it, that’s fine. It’s her choice.

But of course, mlvn stans are gonna take her answers seriously, as well as those who are now “Will stans” who basically ship mlvn too.

And to me there’s a fundamental flaw regarding the ship wars in this fandom, which these people don’t seem to grasp. At this point, it isn’t so much about “which ship is better” but “which outcome isn’t violently homophobic”

That’s it.

I don’t care how much you ship mlvn, this is the undisputed truth here.

But when your lead actors act like it’s not a big deal, it’s no surprise the fandom doesn’t give a shit.

I can only hope the Duffers were smart enough to see reason and were able to write the only outcome that won’t set television back around 10 years or so.

And hopefully one day, when S5 is out, we can get a more in depth and honest conversation with the actors about all of this.

As for me, I’m gonna lay low and not give much of a fuck until we start getting those Reddit leaks, which were very much accurate for last season. I’ll take a peak at those, and depending on what they look like, I’ll stay around or dip completely.

If you read all of this, thank you.

#byler #byler theory #byler is real

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aspenwritesstuff · 7 months ago

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Part Three

prev | masterlist | next (soon)

warnings: angst, feelings of guilt and isolation, misplaced anger, scars mention, language, mental health struggles, very brief mention of institutionalization

wc: 7553

"You told them about Hyunjin, the beautiful boy you were charged with transferring the remaining shreds of the dream you’d always dreamed to." "You told them how, despite your disdain, teaching Hyunjin forced you to make an effort to be human again. To be alive. To wash clothes and wear them clean after taking a shower. To leave your apartment."

“You told them how, your own trauma aside, Hyunjin wasn’t all that bad.” "You told them how, in a way, it was because of Hyunjin that you’d finally broken your silence today. How wrong it felt to be better for a stranger when the two of them had been waiting for so long."

a/n: hey, hi, hello. I'd like to thank any of you who are still around to read this. From the bottom of my heart. I know I've been very inconsistent, and for that I apologize. I'm trying to pace myself, and slowly return to writing. Updates will be happening with more regularity now that I'm back to it! Comments, reblogs, asks...all of those things really light the fire in me to write, and are very deeply appreciated! So please let me know if you enjoy my work. Enough of my prattling, please enjoy part three!

with love and forehead smooches (if you consent),

-Aspen

taglist: @findingjieunn @hyynee @hyunverse @dreamstarsandskz @linaliann

permanent taglist: @svintsandghosts @notastraykid @abiaswreck

Gray clouds and the distant call of thunder encased Seoul today, despite how nice the weather had been the day prior. It was days like this that were meant for staying in, avoiding getting caught in the inevitable storm, filling your time with something mindful.

Days like this had once been reserved for painting, locked away in the studio as the sky bellowed its approval over each brushstroke. Days like this meant the completion of a work that had been left unfinished, allowing motivation to come from the weeping sky. Days like this, and the work that went into them, had only been allowed interruption by one thing - your friends.

Changbin and Felix, the sole bearers of the right to break your focus whilst poring over a canvas.

Days like these were once reserved for them, too. Movies that none of you really watched, talking over them about anything and everything. Laughter regardless of what was playing. Comfort regardless of the impending downpour.

What were days like this supposed to be now? When the thought of a brush in your hand was enough to bring about the ache in your heart that you couldn’t quite get used to, despite its frequency. The longer the monochrome sky loomed overhead, the longer the obvious answer hammered at your psyche.

They were the only thing left meant for days such as these.

You could call them. You could reach out in hopes that they hadn’t quite given up, despite your prior avoidance. It would be easy, just the tap of a few buttons on a screen. A child could do it, and yet you found yourself struggling to get past the menu.

Guilt has a funny way of complicating things.

Prior to the accident, and the subsequent lack of contact, reaching out to Changbin and Felix had been effortless - simply a part of your day-to-day routine, requiring little to no forethought.

Now, however, you were terrified.

Your phone felt much heavier than it should have in your hands as you stared at the long-neglected group chat on your screen - the accompanying double digit number next to it taunting you with its reminder of just how long you’d been absent. Just how long you’d avoided speaking to the two.

How long was too long to ignore somebody before they’d stop considering you a friend?

Talking to them meant facing the possibility that your actions - or, rather, lack thereof - could have destroyed the only two friendships you’d ever cared to maintain.

Until you actually spoke to them, you could live in ignorance.

Until you actually spoke to them, you could assume they still wanted you around.

Until you actually spoke to them, they were the only thing that hadn’t changed.

That just served to make the notion of finally reaching out absolutely petrifying.

These were the same boys you’d stay up laughing ‘til sunrise with, so deliriously tired that everything had become funnier than it should’ve been. The same boys that, rather than letting you fend for yourself, allowed you to follow them around like a duckling as they showed you the ins and outs of Seoul. The same boys who’d all but drag you from your studio when you’d forget to eat in the midst of a big project, bringing you to the diner for your favorite burger.

These were the same boys who brought new flowers to your bedside every week, even when you wouldn’t so much as look at them when they did.

You tapped the thread, swallowing both the lump in your throat and your pride as you read the messages you’d missed - maintaining your composure up until you got to the most recent two, sent only a day ago.

Felix: Honey, please talk to us? We’re really worried about you. Your mom said you’re home now, so maybe we could come by? I miss you a lot.

Changbin: We could go to the diner if you want? I’ll pay even though it’s your turn. Nothing feels right without our favorite girl, okay? Love you.

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as you hiccuped, unsure if it was shame that you’d doubted they’d stick around or relief that you were wrong that finally broke the dam - but broke it did as hot tears blurred your vision.

So many things had been ripped from you - violently, remorselessly, suddenly. Your future, your outlet, your joy, all gone in a terrible symphony of metal against metal. Your dreams snatched away by the malicious hand of fate, dangled above your head - just far enough away to taunt you, to remind you that it still existed, just not for you. Reminding you that everything had changed.

Everything, it seemed, except for Changbin and Felix.

Undeserving didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt. After all of this time, receiving nothing at all but radio silence from you, these two men had been contacting you - at least one of them, at least once a day - since the accident.

You scrolled up, noticing that they’d never once gotten angry. They’d never once blamed you. They’d told you about their days, their lives, what happened at work, changes to the diner’s menu, and - always - how much you were missed. Not once did either of them condemn your behavior. Not once did either of them criticize you.

And you’d ignored them. Treated them as if they, and their unending support in spite of your withdrawal from them, didn’t matter. As if you didn’t need them. As if you were better off alone after suffering loss.

All it took was shame weighing down your shoulders to remind you, though, that you weren’t - and never would be - better off without Felix and Changbin.

How inexcusable it felt to have left them in the dark made your thumbs difficult to move. Two simple letters turned into near-impossible hurdles. The level of anger you’d expected to have to face from them had significantly raised your expectations.

You had been ready to beg, to offer anything to make it up to them when the gloomy skies forced them into your mind. You were prepared to listen to lectures, to agree with them had they called you a bad friend.

You had been ready to face the possibility that they’d lost faith in you completely.

So, how were you supposed to just say, “Hi.”

How could you simply address them casually as if you hadn’t neglected them? Hadn’t deserted them? Hadn’t forsaken them in the name of sorrow, shunned them for your own selfish pity?

How absolutely wrong it felt to simply greet them as if nothing had happened. How slimy it felt not to apologize a million times over, sinful not to grovel at their feet for forgiveness.

How heavy two little letters could become.

Yet, despite the painfully slow rate at which your trembling thumbs tapped against the glass, they were suddenly there. Sitting plainly, four lines and a dot - “Hi” - black against white. It waited, just as the long-neglected curves and lines of another word had - send - white against blue.

You suddenly understood why minimalism paintings were regarded in such a profound way, as everything inside of you screamed at the sight displayed on the screen. No longer did you question how a few strokes of a brush and a signature could justify more than a glance. Gone were your bitter thoughts over the success of such seemingly simple works. Four lines and a dot, black against white. Curves and lines, white against blue.

Hi. Send.

They were not as simple as they appeared on their own. Together, they were complex.

Complex enough to paralyze you.

Hi.You never used to find it this difficult, not once. The luxury most had when facing the unfortunate drifting from friends was not yours to have. You couldn’t simply exhale a plaintive sigh, asking forces unseen what had happened to what once was. It would be ridiculous to even entertain the notion. You knew what had happened and you bore the angry, red reminder of exactly what spurred the change.

The reminder that things would never be the same.

You never used to care for minimalism paintings. How could you have? They were just lines before. Just haphazard shapes pointlessly ruining a perfectly good canvas. Cruel irony, realizing the potential of the style now that your talent had been reduced to nothing more than fond memories that pained you to recall. Harsher still was the realization that the closest attempt you’d ever make at the style was staring at you from a screen dimming from disuse. A strange medium on stranger canvas, the credits for which would certainly raise brows:

Eclipse, Hi, 2023, 6”x3” Thumbs on Glass. Your heart dropped at the use of your old habits from your days of gallery submissions. Despite barely qualifying as a piece of art, you’d gone ahead and planned out the label for the four lines and a dot, black against white. Despite your wounds, you’d forgotten the pain for just a moment - losing yourself in the meaning of curves and lines, white against blue.

Forgetting, for a moment, that everything had changed.

Perhaps it was the surge of adrenaline that accompanied your panicked realization, maybe even a brief stroke of inspiration from your inadvertent first-attempt at a style you’d once hated. Those two little letters were no longer the heaviest thing on your heart - and, in comparison, were suddenly light. Before you could talk yourself out of sending those lines and dots off, you tapped the blue that housed curves and squiggles. Send.

The cartoonish whoosh carrying those two heavy little letters felt starkly out of place amidst the rolling of thunder and the thrumming pulse in your ears. Your legs bounced, anxious feet filling the silence with muffled taps as you waited. All you could do now was stare holes into the screen and hope. Hope that, despite your certainty, you were wrong. That everything hadn’t changed.

That, if nothing else, this could be the same. They could be the same.

It felt like a form of purgatory, staring at a screen filled with tiny bubbles of even tinier lines, dots, and curves. Time seemed to me moving in strange ways - seconds felt like their own small eternities as you stared at your underwhelming message.

You wondered if Felix and Changbin felt this way, too, during their admittedly much longer wait for a reply. Certainly they had. It would be difficult to imagine otherwise. If ten seconds felt this long to you, how long had these months felt for them? Your heart dropped at the thought, but rose quickly along with your pulse at the sight of three little dots moving at the bottom of the screen.

Those three little dots disappeared and reappeared once, twice, and three times before a few sentences appeared on screen. You saw that it was Felix who’d answered first, but couldn’t bring yourself to read it for at least a minute. Although these two had constantly been checking in on you, despite your lack of answers, it was hard to completely let go of the possibility that they would be angry. Hurt.

They had a right to be, after all.

Once your nerves allowed you to skim the message, a melancholy calm washed over you. In typical form, Felix was perfectly understanding - and sweet - with his reply.

Felix: Oh my god, hi! How are you? I miss you so much.What you had done to deserve such an immediate and warm reaction to your return was beyond you, having fully expected at least a bit of resentment sent your way - yet there was none to be found. Perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised though, seeing as neither Felix nor Changbin had ever given you a reason to doubt the depth of their care for you.

Recalling that brought the ache of guilt - having gone hand in hand with the thoughts of the two for months now - back to the surface. The shift back from your cautious optimism nearly knocked the wind out of you in its abruptness.

Guilt, and its funny way of complicating things, resulted in paranoia at Changbin’s lack of response. Maybe you were foolish to feel hopeful at the warm, brief, comfort of Felix’s kind response. The lack of discontent Felix expressed at your return held no guarantee to extend to Changbin. He could very well hold onto an indignation towards you for trying to simply slide back into their lives after so long of icing them out. What if he wouldn’t forgive you? What if, due to this, your closeness with Felix - in spite of his unabashed eagerness - too, would lessen? What if..? Changbin: Never disappear like that EVER again, stupid.You couldn’t even find it within yourself to feel a shred of irritation at the insult, a buoyancy you’d nearly forgotten was possible surrounding your heart as it thudded hard in your chest. You weren’t sure where to go from here. Of course, an apology was in order, but beyond that…you were clueless. It felt shallow to apologize over text, though, for something as grievous as the vanishing act as you’d performed. You stared at the screen for several minutes, thumbs trembling over the keyboard projected against the glass as you held the phone in both hands, before you finally decided.

You: Come over, please?

You’d been spurred into making your appearance, after all, been spurred to finally make an appearance by memories of stormy days spent together. Hoping the nostalgia was hitting the duo, too, was all you could do - eyes glued to the dancing gray circles at the bottom of your screen. Felix: Not gonna lie, I was running to my car the second your name popped up on my screen sweetheart.

Changbin: I’m quite literally already on my way.Felix: Thought you didn’t text and drive? Your principles, or whatever.Changbin: These circumstances allow exception.Changbin: And, for the millionth time, it’s JUTDAE.The ghost of a smile graced your lips as you witnessed their usual banter unfold - something you hadn’t realized you’d missed in your numbness. The shape of your lips felt foreign, though not uncomfortable, on your face. Your lack of reply was largely attributed to knowing Changbin would likely look away from the road to read whatever you would contribute to the conversation - but, it would be a lie to say that was the sole reason. Their imminent arrival gave you an unpleasant reminder that, aside from your sessions with Hyunjin, you hadn’t left the house - and cleanliness wasn’t typically associated with apathy.

From the couch alone, the mess was impossible not to notice. A lump of unwashed laundry could be seen from the cracked doorway of your bathroom, left there despite the hamper being in your bedroom one door down. The coffee table was littered with unwashed dishes, wrappers, and empty plastic bottles, and the blankets that you’d typically kept folded neatly were all strewn about - discarded on the floor or left on whichever piece of furniture you’d decided to brood on that day.

You rarely went into your room when the boys were around, so you weren’t too concerned about the clothes and items littering the room’s floor and your bed. Your studio was, for obvious reasons, another room you didn't need to worry about...but you didn’t even want to think about the mess in the kitchen. You knew for a fact you hadn’t bothered soaking - let alone washing - any pots or pans you’d used. The murky dishwater in the sink - clouded by the few dishes you had picked up - wasn’t forgotten either. You scrambled to your feet, grabbing empty water bottles from the coffee table in front of you - stumbling in your rush to get them into the recycling bin before returning swiftly to the living room to gather the dishes you’d left behind in your indifference. You set them on the counter, having to use a bit of force to squeeze them into an open space far too small initially, before plunging your hand into the sink with a grimace and pulling the plug - draining the stagnant water from days ago.

With the plug replaced, soap added, and the faucet turned on at a scalding temperature, you hurriedly put the dirty dishes in - grabbing the pots and pans to fill with a bit of water to let them soak in hopes that it appeared as though you weren’t living the way you had been for so long. A whispered curse left your lips as you abandoned the still-filling sink to make your way towards the bathroom - pulling the large pile of clothes into your arms with a soft grunt before trudging into your bedroom and tossing them into the hamper.

You had just gathered the wrappers from the table and thrown them away, on your way to pick up the blankets when you heard a rhythmic knock on the front door - there was no mistaking the one-three-one pattern as Changbin and Felix’s signature, seeing as you’d jointly decided as a group that this was how you’d all make it apparent who was visiting in case of a spontaneous drop-in.

Elation and panic weren’t necessarily an easy pair of emotions to blend together, but that didn’t stop your instant stiffening as your head spun to stare at the rich mahogany - knowing that, for what felt like the first time after an eternity, your friends had arrived.

Kicking blankets towards the corner as you crossed the room hurriedly, you turned the deadbolt and grabbed the knob. Goosebumps covered your arms as you held the cold metal in your hands for a moment - though you’d be remiss to blame it all on the chill - hesitating before turning it and pulling it open. “Hey,” you began before the door was even fully open, your anxiety apparent in the way your voice quavered on such a simple word, “Thanks for coming, I know that–” You were cut off by an abrupt, tightly set pair of arms wrapping around your body as Changbin, standing in front of Felix, crossed the threshold in one long and impatient stride. He didn’t say a word, simply crushing you in what could’ve easily been mistaken as a restraining hold rather than a hug. He was soon joined by Felix, who approached much more slowly and opted to hug you from the side - enveloping you between himself and Changbin with a sniffle that, despite being unable to see his face, made you absolutely certain he was crying.

“Don’t you ever disappear on us like that again,” Changbin muttered against the top of your head as he placed a chaste peck atop your unbrushed tresses, earning a nod felt against your shoulder as Felix silently agreed, likely afraid to speak considering his likelihood to sob the moment he made a sound.

The guilt you’d grown so accustomed to when you’d think about the two of them lurched in your stomach at the way relief had audibly invaded what you were sure Changbin had intended to be a scolding tone.

“I’m sorry…” you choked out, joining Felix in crying as you spoke the only words you could. The only words that felt proper, considering the circumstances. The only words appropriate after snubbing the only people with the potential to understand you during your darkest time.

“Changbin, don’t make them cry!” Felix reprimanded with a sniffle, squeezing you tighter as he shot his best attempt at a glare Changbin’s way.

“I would’ve cried anyway,” it was true, your response. If the guilt on its own wouldn’t have been enough to rouse your emotions, the relief that they came after all this time was.

Felix nodded, but sent Changbin one last playful glare as you were guided inside, making your way to the sofa in tandem, settling in to wait out the storms; raging outside and in your mind.

As the crying ceased on both Felix’s and your end, he and Changbin had questions. You’d been absent from their lives for so long, after all. It was only natural they wanted some answers.

You told them. You told them every unpretty detail.

You told them about your hand, and how despite the effort you made in rehabilitation that it would never be the same.

You told them about the scar, and how sometimes it would hurt as if to taunt you, to remind you as soon as you thought that you were maybe, possibly okay that you would never be again.

You told them about your solitude, surrounded by the company of dirty dishes and overfilled hampers.

You told them about your mother, and the ultimatum she gave you regarding the way you were living.

You told them about Hyunjin, the beautiful boy you were charged with transferring the remaining shreds of the dream you’d always dreamed to.

You told them how, despite your disdain, teaching Hyunjin forced you to make an effort to be human again. To be alive. To wash clothes and wear them clean after taking a shower. To leave your apartment.

You told them how, your own trauma aside, Hyunjin wasn’t all that bad.

You told them how, in a way, it was because of Hyunjin that you’d finally broken your silence today. How wrong it felt to be better for a stranger when the two of them had been waiting for so long.

You told them how deeply, painfully sorry you were.

And, when they told you not to apologize and that they were never going to leave you behind, asking if you’d go shopping with them tomorrow?

You told them nothing would make you happier.

When the two of them left, you felt lighter. As though a great burden had been lifted from your shoulders…or, more accurately, distributed between three sets rather than being carried by you alone.

Changbin and Felix had only been gone for about an hour when the buzz of your phone alerted you to a message from an unfamiliar number.

???: Hey! I hope this isn’t a bad time. Ms. Park gave me your number!

???: This is Hyunjin, by the way.

You knew now who the messages were coming from, though more questions were acquired than answers.

You typed and deleted several responses ranging from, “What do you want?” which you decided seemed a bit too rude, and “Why are you contacting me?” which seemed the same, only stiffer. You finally decided on a tried and true, much more casual:

You: What’s up?

It took only a few seconds for him to respond with a simple question that - from any other mentor - would seem reasonable. Yet your heart, once lightened by the reunion with your friends, seemed to gain several pounds as it plummeted uncomfortably into your stomach.

Hyunjin: Would you be willing to come with me to the art supply store? I’m new to oils and really don’t want to grab the wrong brushes.

Technically speaking, you were perfectly capable and more than qualified to fulfill this task. In fact, at risk of sounding vain, you may be one of the best people to help him out. If he’d have asked you prior to the accident, you’d have jumped on the opportunity to help an aspiring artist purchase their first set of oil-appropriate brushes.

Under different circumstances, you’d have found great joy - fun even - in browsing an art store with someone who wanted to be there. You’d often found yourself wishing for exactly that when you’d notice the bored expressions on Felix and Changbin’s faces on the rare occasions that you’d managed to convince them to tag along.

This, however, was not under those circumstances.

You were not excited. You were not looking forward to it. You would never have wished for this in a million years.

And, despite the fact that Changbin and Felix were; you were not the same.

You debated ghosting him, acting as if you’d perhaps dozed off or set your phone down and lost track of time. You considered telling him to ask the clerk for help instead, despite knowing that they probably knew the bare minimum and were only working there for a paycheck, not passion, and would likely encourage him to buy the most expensive option rather than the most effective. You even considered simply saying, “No.”

You likely would have gone with any of these options had it not been for the way he’d grown on you.

Perhaps it was his apologetic nature during last week’s lesson, when you’d displayed an unexpected level of emotion following his innocent query regarding you painting.

Or perhaps it was the ease with which he offered to drop the subject.

Maybe it could even have a little bit to do with the warmth of his work, and the way it made you feel something other than empty or angry - however briefly, before jealousy took over - for the first time since the accident.

Regardless of why, you did not, in fact, choose any of your reflexive responses. Instead, you agreed, telling him to meet you in about an hour, cleverly choosing a shop other than the one you were once a regular at despite the further distance.

You simply couldn’t handle the barrage of questions Hyunjin would likely have should you be recognized; should it come to light that you had lied to him. That you were, in fact, a painter once.

Once.

The reminder, though self-inflicted, still stung as you gathered your bag and jacket, a pit in your gut still present even as you locked up and made your way to the roadside to hail a taxi. The drive did little to remedy it either, and you found yourself unable to match the smile you were greeted with as Hyunjin spotted you exiting the cab.

“Hey! Thanks again for agreeing even though it was last minute!” he called warmly, jogging up to meet you halfway.

You simply nodded, adjusting the bag over your shoulder and gesturing towards the shop in an attempt to occupy him with something other than expressing his thanks.

There wouldn’t be anything wrong with that if it weren’t for the way the brightness of his smile only seemed to accentuate the shadows of your envy, allowing it to grow and fester despite your intentions to be a good teacher to him.

Luckily, he took the hint without breaking stride, walking a few paces ahead of you as you entered the shop. You watched as he paused, eyes wide and curious, until he smiled once more upon spotting the aisle labeled brushes. You followed along at your same slow pace even as he rushed ahead towards it, finding him with two different sets in each hand as you caught up to him.

Reading the furrow of his brow as an internal debate over which was better, you spoke up from behind him, “Neither of those are what you want.”

He jumped, as if the few second gap between your arrivals in this aisle were enough to startle him. It was endearing, in a way, and you couldn’t help but let out the tiniest laugh in the form of a dry scoff.

Setting both sets down, Hyunjin chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head as he turned to face you, “Which ones then?” he asked, choosing not to acknowledge his brief moment of fright as he gestured with a grand sweeping motion to the display racks.

“Let’s see,” you murmured back to him, letting him off without any teasing, instead taking a few strides forward with your eyes on the rack and skimming each set for a specific logo - a simple white outline of a lily - belonging to the brand you preferred.

Used to prefer.

A pause imperceptible to anyone but yourself made itself in your stride, but you focused on the task at hand. You could handle this. It was just picking out brushes. It wasn’t a taunt from the universe, despite the way it felt. It wasn’t a cruel joke. It was just picking out brushes.

So why was your heart racing like you were about to get thrown into a pit of lions?

Swallowing your own nerves, you reached out to sift through the rack, finally producing the same set of brushes you’d once started with on your own journey, before it had been cut short, and handed it over to Hyunjin.

“These are gonna be your best bet,” you supplied, hoping he’d leave it at that.

Whether it was luck or a bit of intuition on Hyunjin’s part, he did just that.

“Thanks, I would’ve been staring at the rack like a fool for at least twenty minutes if not for you,” he said with a quiet laugh, tucking the set under his arm.

“Think of how many people could have startled you in that time,” you gave an attempt to banter, at which his quiet laughter exploded into a bright, vibrant cackle - out of place both from someone as beautiful as he was, and someplace as quiet as this.

He quickly smacked his hand over his mouth, eyes widening as he continued to snicker, “Since when are you funny?” he asked between subdued snorts.

“There’s more to me than you know.”

What a double-edged answer, considering all that you were actively hiding from him.

“Besides,” you began, keen to distract your mind from the discomfort of dwelling on secrets you kept from Hyunjin, “It wasn’t really that funny.”

A shake of his head prefaced the assurance you hadn’t asked for, “Trust me, I don’t laugh like that often! In fact, believe it or not, I try not to be noisy in quiet, public spaces.”

“Oh, is that so?” you responded with a laugh that felt foreign falling from your lips, shaking your head, “In that case, I will do my utmost to keep my hilarity to a minimum.”

Hyunjin exhaled a small snort from his nose, giving an over-dramatic bow - complete with a flourish - before speaking in an deliberately ostentatious tone, “I am most grateful.”

You shook your head, shoving his arm playfully to spur him back into standing, “Ready to check out?” you asked him, hoping the answer was yes. You wanted - no, needed - to leave.

It wasn’t Hyunjin, by any means. If it were anything but art supplies, you’d actually have quite enjoyed this outing. Hyunjin was good company, once you’d given him a chance. You’d smiled more today than you had in a long while, your cheeks hurting from the lack of use prefacing today.

Hyunjin was warm, bright like the sun, perfectly good company. He was funny without being a tryhard. He was unabashed in his individuality, from the way he bantered to the guffaw you could still hear echoing in your mind.

It definitely wasn’t Hyunjin.

Despite not being your old favorite, being inside of a supply shop still gave you an unwelcome feeling of nostalgia. The scent was the same, regardless of what shop you went to, and you could swear the once-comforting aroma was now a foul stench, something you’d likely shower away when you got home.

“Just about, I need a couple canvases and a few tubes of paint,” he answered absently, blissfully unaware of just how dire of straits you were in.

You nodded, waving him away playfully with your hand in hopes he’d gather what he needed quickly, walking up the aisle to wait near the register for him. You weren’t about to abandon him here, now that the job of finding brushes he’d spontaneously tasked you with was complete. You weren’t that desperate.

It was close, though.

You crossed your arms, leaning back against the counter. A scoff was earned from the cashier, but you were more than used to ignoring people after your recent experience, allowing you to stay put without so much as an apologetic glance.

You shuffled, growing antsier with every moment you waited for Hyunjin. You weren’t exactly spatially aware, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a clatter following the brushing of your bag against the countertop.

“Sorry,” you muttered, ignoring the way the cashier rolled their eyes at you as you bent down to pick up what had fallen.

It was obvious that it was a set of brushes, considering the shape of the package. As you lifted it, something possessed you; whether it be curiosity or masochism, you turned the set around in your hands to get a good look at it.

The first thing you noticed was a simple white lily.

What were the odds? Of anything you could’ve accidentally bumped, it just had to be something you were intimately familiar with? You shook your head, fighting the urge to roll your eyes before you realized that perhaps you weren’t as familiar with this set as you once thought.

Next to the logo was a small, ornate ‘7.’ The last you knew, there were only six sets from this brand.

For the briefest moment, excitement coursed through your veins. Your eyes lit up, your lips twitched in anticipation of a smile. This brand always had such great improvements with every set they released, and you weren’t sure they’d ever release a new one. You owned all six prior sets, and wouldn’t part with them for anything in the world.

And then it hit you.

And the smile that had begun forming dropped.

And you felt sick to your stomach.

Because you would not use these brushes. You no longer used the other six sets.

You would never feel the difference in the improved handle shape, how comfortable it would feel in your hand with the carefully formed grooves.

You wouldn’t buy them without a second thought, as you once would’ve. You wouldn’t rush home to lock yourself away until someone came to check on you; because you wouldn’t need checked on, considering you’d never get so sucked into painting that you’d forget the outside world ever again.

“Hey! Sorry I took so long!” Hyunjin chirped from behind you, making you jerk your head up towards him.

“Oh, uh, no problem,” you managed, though you sounded more robotic than you’d intended. You set the brushes down on the counter, quickly enough that you nearly knocked over the rest of the display, “I’m gonna wait outside, okay?”

Confusion furrowed the man’s brow as he tilted his head, inquisitive gaze locked on you as though he could find the answers he sought in your face if he stared long enough, “Uh…sure. You okay?”

Damn him.

Damn his earnest concern and his functional fucking hands.

Damn his too-loud laugh and his ability to get so lost comparing sets of brushes that your return after only a few seconds startled him.

Damn his drive to improve, damn the way he made you smile, and damn the universe for bringing him into your life now; when you’d lost the ability to fully appreciate him.

“I’m fine,” you lied with a forced smile, nodding your head quickly, “Just need some air.”

“Oh…sure,” Hyunjin answered slowly, returning the smile - though the furrowed brows remained, betraying the concern he still felt. “I’ll try to be quick.”

“Take your time,” you called over your shoulder, having already been walking as fast as was socially acceptable indoors the moment you’d heard the first syllable of a positive response.

Your chest felt tight, your heart in a vice as you gritted your teeth, forcing air into your lungs in short little gasps. The doors seemed so far, and your steps felt too slow…but you did eventually make it outside, sitting down on a bench as you ran a hand through your hair and stared up at the sky, focusing on getting your breath under control before Hyunjin was finished.

God forbid you give him yet another reason to worry. It was ironic that, despite becoming his mentor to avoid such a fate, you didn’t doubt he may be wondering if you should be institutionalized considering your proclivity to lose your composure around him.

By the time he returned, you were as composed as you’d get considering the thoughts swirling tumultuously in your mind. A tight lipped smile from your end was returned brightly by Hyunjin, all traces of furrowed brows and concern completely wiped from his now elated face.

“I didn’t take too long, did I?” he asked as you rose from the bench.

“Not at all,” you shook your head as you spoke, silently grateful that he’d taken as long as he had. You didn’t want to imagine how he’d look right now if you’d still been struggling to breathe upon his return.

“That’s a relief,” his voice sounded…excited somehow. Like a child eager for praise - his eyes wide and bright and his lips still upturned happily. You wondered what, exactly, had brought him into this state of mind…though you didn’t need to wait long.

He reached into the white paper bag, his slender fingers grabbing something out and lifting it.

The first thing you saw; a white lily. The second; the number ‘7.’

Your stomach sank. Was this a joke? You already struggled to teach him, considering his ability to do what you no longer could…and now he was going to use the brushes you never would? Internally, you wondered if rage or sadness would be more appropriate - despite the answer being neither, considering he didn’t know any better.

Damn him.

Damn his –

“I noticed you were looking at these when I came up to check out,” he began, cutting off your internal rant, and earning a disconcerted tilt of the head from you.

“And?” you asked, a bit too sharply to be towards someone who was simply making conversation.

It isn’t his fault, don’t be a dick, you reminded yourself, gritting your teeth.

“And,” he drew out the word, treating your venom as though it was nothing more than a continuation of the simple banter you’d shared in the brush aisle, “I wanted to thank you for all of your help so far, but you don’t share much.” He paused, holding the set out towards you.

No.

Oh, please no.

Your heart lurched into your throat as you realized…he didn’t buy them for his own use. He got them for you.

He was giving you the very object that had spurred your hasty retreat from the shop in the first place.

Damn him.

Damn him and the way his eyes bored into yours, waiting for a response besides a dumbfounded drop of your jaw.

Damn him and the way that, despite thinking he had done something good, he was just like a housecat. Bringing you a dead rat, very proud and completely unaware that you did not want to touch it.

Waiting for praise. For gratitude.

He must have noticed your silence, because his bright smile turned into more of a shy, half-upturned grin, his voice softer and filled with significantly less glee.

“It’s just…You looked excited for a second when you picked them up, so I figured they must be important, even though you said you didn’t paint,” he paused to laugh under his breath…but not like he had earlier. This was not joyful, it reeked of self-deprecation and embarrassment.

Damn him and his ability to make you feel guilty for the feelings you cannot control.

“Shit, I’m sorry–” you wondered for a moment why he was apologizing for such a kind gesture, but got your answer in the form of wetness becoming apparent on your cheeks. He reached out with his sleeve, wiping at the tears, looking and sounding so very panicked.

You shook your head, ignoring the comfort his hands brushing away your sadness brought, and wondered if he even knew exactly what he was apologizing for. Surely he knows he did nothing wrong…before the accident, you would’ve likely crushed him in a hug upon being given the exact gift that had you in shambles now.

“It’s stupid, you told me you didn’t paint,” he sighed deeply, looking down at you with that same worried, furrowed brow he’d shown inside. He lowered his hand from your face - his perfectly functional, unscarred hand - and rummaged through the bag with it, “I should’ve asked if you wanted them, I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t do anything other than shake your head, the ability to form words gone as you struggled to even garner a single cohesive thought.

“I’m sure I can bring them back, I kept the receipt–”

“No!”

You surprised yourself with the quickness with which you declined his offer to rid you of this accidental reminder of what you’d lost; quicker still had you reached out and snatched the set from his hands, holding it tightly to your chest.

“No..?” Hyunjin asked, the slightest hint of relief creeping into his voice - so subtle and tentative. So ready to return the brushes and apologize again at the first sign of discontent.

You were just as surprised as he was, unsure of what possessed you to decline the offer that would remove the unwelcome reminder.

Maybe it was the pride with which he’d presented them to you, or a desire to wipe the worry from his expression.

Or, maybe it was simply a dream refusing to die.

“No,” you repeated, shaking your head and looking up at him. Tears no longer fell, and you sniffled quietly as you felt your lips pull up into the smallest of smiles.

“Are you sure?” he asked slowly, as if prepared at any time to take the brushes back to the cashier. You gave him a nod and tucked the brushes away in your bag.

“Absolutely.”

Hyunjin nodded, and as per usual didn’t press any further. Hyunjin was good about that, aside from your initial meeting. It was easy to assume he’d learned not to delve too deep into your psyche following the abrupt exit you’d made.

The only question he’d asked after your acceptance of the brushes was if you’d like to share a cab, to which you agreed, standing at his side as he hailed the first one to come by.

You watched out the window as the cityscape blurred by, keeping your gaze on the window. It was easy to get lost in your own mind with the drone of the tires on asphalt serving as white noise, easily lulling you into tangential thought.

Perhaps there was more about Hyunjin that you envied, aside from his ability to paint. To dream.

Everything seemed to roll right off of him. The moments you’d seen him concerned were so easily put behind him. He didn’t dwell. He didn’t linger. He moved forward, unstoppable despite the way you were effectively acting as a roadblock.

He kept showing up to lessons following the very first one, in which you could readily admit you did not make the best first impression.

You wished you could do that, move forward without looking back. If it were a skill to be taught, maybe you could ask Hyunjin for lessons in exchange for the ones you gave him.

With that thought in your mind, you finally spoke into the silence of the backseat.

“What would you do if you woke up tomorrow and couldn’t paint?”

You heard Hyunjin rustle across the seat, his breath coming out in an extended sigh as he contemplated how to answer. You didn’t need to tell him what happened to you in order to pick his brain, you’d realized.

“You mean like…if I forgot how to?” he asked, his tone riddled with confusion.

“No,” you murmured, turning your gaze from the window to look at him, “I mean…If something happened to make you lose your ability.”

Hyunjin hummed, looking up at the roof of the cab as he rubbed his chin in thought, his head tilted back against the headrest.

You couldn’t help but wish you had the luxury of considering this situation as rhetorical.

Finally speaking up as the vehicle came to a stop in front of your apartment, Hyunjin let his head loll over without lifting to look at you, “I wouldn’t accept that,” he answered firmly, “I’d keep trying until I could again.”

You didn’t realize you were laughing until the sound came out of your mouth, earning a befuddled look from your companion, his lower lip jutting out slightly.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, looking almost offended, as though there were some inside joke he desperately wanted to understand but wouldn’t get an explanation to.

You simply shook your head, waving a hand and stopping your laughter with a sigh, “Nothing, nothing at all,” you mused, lips still upturned in amusement as you got out of the cab, closing the door and walking up the steps to your apartment, turning around at the door to wave goodbye.

Still appearing painfully puzzled, Hyunjin lifted his hand to wave back. Though, considering the slowness of the action, it could hardly be considered such.

As the cab pulled away, you made your way inside. Locking the door and removing your shoes, you picked up the brushes and set them down on the coffee table, a wistful smile on your lips as one thought echoed over and over in your mind.

If only it were that easy.

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin angst #hyunjin romance #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #skz angst #skz romance

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dmbakura · 11 months ago

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I like 90% of your Astarion posts, but this game has a very limited portrayal of trauma and relationships. Sometimes you assume the game is better written and more cohesive than it is.

Multiple writers wrote lines for Astarion, there were several rewrites and variations to his story and there are a ton of contradictions between specific lines.

It’s not a good enough narrative to be able to do the type of analysis you do. There are always going to be multiple valid readings of his character.

Obviously there are always going to be different ways of reading his character (or any character for that matter) but I heavily disagree that the narrative isn't good or cohesive enough to make simple conclusions about him or the trajectory of his arc. Most of the inconsistencies lie in his backstory, which to my knowledge was changed and reworked because it didn't really fit with the final version they settled on, hence some strange things like the vagueness of his age and what he was like pre-Cazador.

To my knowledge the bulk of his writing was done by Stephen Rooney with Baudelaire Welch (Dark Urge's writer) assisting. I really don't see what "contradictory lines" you mean. His writing is extremely consistent throughout the entire game and he's by far one of the best, most nuanced depictions of trauma I've seen. When it comes to relationships, of course the game has a limited scope of how they work. Nobody is denying that, but I don't see anyone provide any actual contextual evidence as to why "he actually isn't okay with Halsin/his enthusiasm to try non monogamous arrangements isn't genuine and he is only trying to please Tav". It's either just personal bias or citing lines from much earlier in his character development and completely ignoring later character development entirely.

I don't think this is bad or contradictory writing. I think it's people willingly choosing not to engage in good faith. This isn't to say I think bg3 is a perfect story or anything, but it's definitely a good enough narrative to analyze in this way.

#is it bad writing or do you just not understand why certain choices were made

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theambitiouswoman · 1 year ago

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Is it unrealistic to want people you text to at least say “not in the mood to talk right now” instead of ignoring your message all together?

I’m conflicted because the argument I hear is that “you can’t tell me what to do with my phone” and I acknowledge that they have no obligation but if it’s rude to not acknowledge someone who spoken to you in person why is it different over text when it’s still a means of conversing?

Please point out any flaws in my thinking, I would like another person’s perspective

I don't think its unrealistic for you to feel this way, no. I am very inconsistent with answering my phone on time (I also have 3 phones) but I do try to respond actively if it's someone I know. Sometimes it takes me a little longer. Sometimes I forget for sure. But if its someone who I have an active relationship with I always get back to, either later in the day or within the next couple of days. They do the same and no one gets offended. Sometimes we just end up writing our stories then days later they or I respond like they just sent it lol But my friends would not bark at me if i tell them to answer me if its something I want to talk about immediately and vice versa, I know this for a fact.

So I guess the difference comes in where if its someone who is always ignoring you versus if its something that happens once in a while. People do not have to answer when someone calls or texts them. Neither do you. But if it's reoccurring, especially if it is a friend, then for the sake of your sanity I would suggest to stop making such an effort and go based off what they are showing you. Because there is no reason for you to always be chasing your friends.

When my friends and I are in a bad mood, we either wont respond until we feel better (which doesn't last that long) or we say we are in a bad mood. We do the same thing when it comes to venting, we ask each other first if we are in the headspace for it. People have their own lives and responsibilities. Not everyone is going to be able all the time, but if you are feeling ignored then your feelings are valid and no one should make you feel bad for it. That is a red flag to me.

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iridescentgleam · 2 years ago

Text

I've finally got a device I can write on effectively, so here's a sneak peak of a WIP I have completed! I still have a lot of editing yet to do on this bad boy, but I am very happy with how it's turning out so far. It's official title right now is "Hylia's Most Beloved" but it's affectionately called "Legend (Unknowingly) Proves He'd (Reluctantly) Fight God for the Chain," and it is, admittedly, incredibly self-indulgent lmao. This idea was born because a) I love Legend b) I love Hurt/Comfort, and c) I wanted to explore a scenario in which Legend would reveal how much he cares about the Chain without it being super out of character (i.e. him admitting it without any outside influence lmao). Here are a couple of snip-its for you, if you're interested! Please ignore the few instances of inconsistent verb tenses being used! This was originally written in the present tense and I've changed it to past tense writing this second draft, but I'm sure there are things I haven't caught yet lol.

Also, TW for: manipulation and allusions to death

If you're curious about the plot, I'd be happy to answer your questions in the comments, but I'm trying to leave things purposefully vague for now! lol

(Also, I don't feel like it has to be clarified, but all uses of the word "love" in this fic are not of the romantic kind [except from the implication that Legend loved Marin].)

#linkeduniverse #lu legend #legend of zelda #wip #cw manipulation #cw death #loz hylia #legend actually has feelings in this #what a surprise #i am also like very mean to him in the beginning but that's where the comfort in #hurt/comfort #comes in lmao #the chain is his family now and he's very afraid to lose them #hence his extreme reaction in the last preview #poor baby #linked universe #lu #iri's wips!

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cheerfulmint · 1 year ago

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Hi there! I'm your new gifter for the FFXIV OC swap! I can really only write things, so I was wondering what could you tell me about Eisa? Like her personality, backstory, more about her relationships, how she takes the MSQ? Anything, really.

I realized I never posted her backstory on the blog, so I'll just answer here. I didn't realize how tragic her story was until I tried to get it in order lol please ignore any spelling issues or inconsistencies. This was typed up on a phone.

Names:

Eisa Lhea (ay-suh lhee) -currently goes by this as an adventurer. Kept the name given by her father, just used a more doman pronunciation.

Eisa lux Glycias (eye-suh lux g-lye-shus)- name given by her father, and her title

Brief timeline

Born in small village in doma

Raised to be a shrine maiden/ healer (but like, in a Fatal Frame sort of way. She was raised to be sacrificed. This mentally is one of the reasons she is quick to jump into danger to help people. She was always meant to die for the greater good. She still considers that her duty to some extent)

Bad home life/parents

Saved a garlean soldier with healing magic at age 7

Adopted by garlean medicus shortly after, he saw her potential

Adoptive family is genuinely kind and loving. She has a dad and an older sister

Graduates academy at 17, becomes a medicus

Dalamud drops when she is 22, loses her adoptive sister at carteneau

Fakes her death to flee to eorzea while keeping her father from being punished for her desertion

Ends up in gridania and stays with the conjurers guild

Becomes a white mage at 25

ARR happens at 26

EW ends at 28

Relationships

Father - Leontinus mal Glycias (missing after destruction of garlemald) a kind man, a doting father to both of his daughters.

Sister - Callais lux Glycias (deceased) only a couple of years older than Eisa, but took her duties as an older sister very seriously. Was eisas first confidant. Used to chase off bullies that targeted her sister. Known for her beauty both inside and out, though she was top of her class and is an incredibly talented engineer. Last seen during the fall of dulamud piloting an experimental magiteck armor. Died protecting her sister.

G'raha Tia- Fell for graha during crystal tower, was going to tell him but he shut himself in the tower before she could. Knew he was the exarch right away. Is trying to get the courage to confess to him as of the end of EW. both would sacrifice themselves for the other without thinking, but actually talking about their feelings is too scary.

Haurchefant - was engaged to be married, and then the vault happened. Decided that her job wasn't really conducive to romance and decided not to fall in love again.

Emet-Selch- felt an inexplicable pull towards him, Azem's feelings towards him are still engraved on her very soul. She eventually was able to learn the difference between Azem's feelings and her own. came to see him as a friend. His death still haunts her. Especially after the events of Ulima Thule

Zenos - battle buddies, had occasional run ins during academy days growing up. Also still messed up over his death. He had so much potential for good if only he was raised right. Could she have turned out the same if her father never saved her...?

Thancred - drinking buddy, closest friend in the scions

Yda/Lyse - very close as a result of their time in Gridania.

Y'Shtola - will 100% flirt with each other, Eisa absolutely calls her mommy as a joke

The twins - those are her children, has adoption paperwork ready to go the second their father starts his fuckshit. Would kill to keep them safe, absolutely has killed for them after the collar incident in EW.

Tataru - the only person Eisa says she fears. Also one of her closest friends.

She's generally very close with the scion A team. Is friendly with most of the B team.

Aenor - Eisa is still salty about her comments towards G'raha when he joined the scions. Is noticably cold towards her, even though she knows it's petty.

Gaius - was relatively quick to trust him again. She understands he was doing what he believed to be right and just. Has a bit of a soft spot for him because he reminds her of her own father (in a normal way, not a "daddy issues" way)

Nero - somehow buddies. Got close during the events of the crystal tower. She's elated to see him everytime he shows up.

Cid - considers him an older brother.

She's generally close with all those that defected from garlemald. They meet for drinks once a moon to reminisce about home.

Personality

As far as most people know she is a woman of few words. Gives off a calm, self-assured vibe. Academically talented, she picks up on new areas of study quickly. Could be an archon, but generally hates sharlayan attitudes. Moves with grace and purpose

Around those she is closest to, she's a total dork. Super shy when it comes to romance. Always down for a good time. Will attempt to out drink anyone that challenges her. Tends to sing when drunk. Her sense of humor can be confusing to some, she genuinely thinks Urianger and Estinien are the funniest people she's ever met. She's got my AuDHD.

Slow to anger, believes that most people are capable of good. Believes that those who have done wrong deserve the chance to fix their own mistakes. That one can be redeemed after even the most heinous offences if they truly wish to make up for it, even if it takes a lifetime.

Is terrifying when truly angry. it's an icy, calculating type of anger. The only story events to cause this so far are facing thordan, when the twins were held hostage in EW, and when fake!valens was talking about Solus. Will keep her signature smile on her face when she is angry, it only makes it more unsettling as far as her enemies are concerned.

#eisa lhea #Eisa lore

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fluffykitteninabox · 2 years ago

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¿What are your thoughts on Lady Nagant's return?

Hi cute question mark anon

Thank you for the ask have some sparkles ✨✨✨

You won't have to wait long this time

To be honest, I don't have many opinions on Lady Nagant because she appeared after I stopped reading the manga.

The things I know after the war arc/hospital chapters are mostly from spoilers. I only started trying to keep up with what's happening after chapter 350 came out, so everything between the war arc and that is kind of blurred together in my mind. (and even now, I mostly just see the leaks and only read the full chapter if I'm extremely interested in what's happening)

I really want to go back and read everything I missed to understand the details better because just seeing people talk about it on the internet isn't enough.

So my thoughts on her coming back now are basically just: please let her rest in a hospital bed, she's literally covered in bandages!!

I've rebloged some other people's opinions though that I thought were interesting.

This is my very basic understanding of the two main sides:

The government asked her to kill people -> she became their assassin -> she defected and got branded a villain -> Actually allies herself with a villain briefly -> Deku gave a cute little speech -> she changed sides again and is now helping the heroes -> government asks her to kill people again but this time it's to "redeem" herself

The government asked her to kill people -> she became their assassin -> she defected and got branded a villain -> Actually allies herself with a villain briefly -> Deku gave a cute little speech -> she changed sides again but she's only there to help Deku and not the heroes in general -> she isn't trying to kill Shigaraki/she didn't aim for any fatal spots

But I don't know enough details about her character arc to really say which one I agree with more right now.

The main difference is if Nagant was actually completely 100% convinced by Deku's speech or not, and what exactly that speech was about (which I haven't read oops!! 😂)

If Deku's speech is basically just "hero society good actually.", then I would probably also be mad if Nagant was convinced by that after hero society basically ruined her life.

If Deku's speech is more like: "yeah hero society bad, but hero ideal good and i want to try and fix the bad.", and Nagant decided she wanted to help him fix the bad then I think I would be ok with that.

The first option is bad writing (because of inconsistent character motivation and ignoring/retconing plot elements)

and the second option is mediocre writing (because of the unrealistic optimism of 'everything will be fixed by protagonist-kun so we should all agree with what he's saying and help him)

I think I'd prefer the second option but I'm going to wait until after I've seen all the details just to be sure. That's what I did with the Hawks Twice situation too. I literally bought the volume so I could read it and decide for my own. It's just easier for me to read from the physical book, which is one of the reasons I haven't done the same with the Nagant stuff yet. I check the couple of online shops in my country but I haven't seen any of the related volumes available. They don't restock often I guess.

The other reason is, I'm ashamed to admit, lack of interest 😔!!! (plz forgive me Nagant fans)

She's very pretty, I love her design, her quirk is cool, her backstory and what that implies for the world of MHA is extremely intresting...

but I haven't read the chapters so I'm not emotionally attached to her at the moment. I'm hoping seeing her in the anime this season will get me interested in her. I already really like the bits with her in the intro because the animation is top tier.

I'm thinking after season 6 is over I will go and actually read the manga as I said. Properly in order this time.

#'i don't have thoughts on lady Nagant' proceeds to write 5 paragraphs!#thank you for the ask #have more sparkles ✨✨✨✨#krista answers #ask #cute question mark anon #mha #mha manga spoilers #lady nagant

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vikingpoteto · 2 years ago

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You guys really missed the "there is no ethical consumption under capitalism." huh. Like yeah Ollie is critiquing the system and is a VICTIM of it. He is still part of the system and contributes to it. That is unfortunately the complex reality of super hero comics. Notice at no point is Ollie called a bad person for this. Just that this is a reality of his situation and we can't ignore it either. He is still responsible for his contributions as well as his critiques.

In general, DC comics characters get passed around to different writers with different opinions, interpretations and agendas, so to say they might be inconsistent is a given. With that disclaimer out of the way, what do you mean? Are you suggesting that there is a way to write a character that is 100% ethical and does not participate in any manner in capitalism? Because I honestly don't think that is possible nor that anyone is claiming that Oliver Queen is that. If I am misinterpreting your intentions or your ask, please feel free to correct me, I'm genuinely trying to understand.

#poteto answers #oliver queen #green arrow #i am by no means an expertv #i've been reading green arrow comics but i'm far from completing my reading list #but as far as i've read oliver is supposed to represent a critique to the system #that doesn't make him free of the biases built by existing in a society #as that is true also for the writers responsible for creating him #and the readers #and the editors and artists and so on and so forth

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raventhebookkeeper · 2 years ago

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Hello, this is to my followers, those who visit my page and/or have requested.

I want to start off with an apology before I go into details. I’m sorry to those who have waited for their requests (a letter, imagine, etc.). I know it’s been going on for at least the past two years now. Where I have been on and off on here and I don’t think that’s fair to anyone.

When I started this account, I was in a pretty good place mentally and physically. Despite the pandemic I was keeping myself busy and was ready to start writing and finally was confident enough to share my work.

But then life kinda threw me a curve ball and some things happened not long after. (Perfect timing right) I’ve been constantly pushing down emotions and feelings that rose up from these situations. And every time I thought it was getting better something else happened.

This is the reason for my inconsistency. I would just steer clear from any social media for awhile. The stress of everything and the guilt (from falling behind on my writing) made me just want to isolate myself for a time. But isolating myself, my feelings, and trying to ignore everything obviously didn’t help.

Lately I haven’t been feeling great physically. I usually don’t when I’m stressed and it affects me in different ways. And I finally broke down yesterday and today. And I decided I cannot keep dealing with it in this way. I wanna work on it. I don’t want these bad habits to stay and I miss feeling like myself. I miss being me. I don’t know if that makes sense.

I let a lot of it build up to the point where I would explode at random times. How I Stay Sane: My Mental Hygiene Routine (A video on YouTube made by Elizabeth Filips) puts it perfectly into words how it feels.

I’m not going to stop this account. I have written things that I want to post. I’m just reworking on my confidence. I’ve decided not to write new requests for awhile. I’m going to work on the ones that I have, before this post. People may still request but please understand that it will take me awhile to finish the ones I already have. And when they are finished and I’m ready to “open up shop” again to more, than I will begin those as well.

I also want to say thank you to the lovely people that have been so kind on here. Everyone that requests has just been so nice and I appreciate your patience. I really really do. And just anyone who has left kind messages and has followed my account. You are amazing.

Once again I apologize to those who have waited so long. I should have addressed this long ago.

Thank you, and I hope you all have a wonderful day/evening.

I’ll see you soon ya crazies💚

#this was a bit long and I kind of info dumped #sorry but thank you if you took the time to read the whole thing

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acceptsonlynttnightwing · 9 months ago

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Great answer. super convincing.

2. He attacked Tim and Mia with no provocation even before Bruce chose the joker over him or died. Not really OOC that he'd go off the rails after.

Okay, fair, the cannon fodder comment was a bit much. But that was an entirely separate arc from Jason attacking Tim.

Man, he's NOT A STRAIGHT UP VILLAIN! THAT'S WHY HE DOESN"T KILL HEROES LIKE SPEEDY OR ROBIN.

(7) I'm not saying Jason is evil or didn't do anything good - just that he's also unstable and violent and does crazy shit like attack teenagers and heroes for no good reason.

It might be hard for you to understand, but ✨ people aren't purely good or bad ✨

Not even criminals.

And there were tons of Black Mask's people left on the boat when it blew up. And there was plenty of other damage he caused - exploding trucks in the middle of a road, blowing up sidewalks - that could have killed civilians.

UTRH focuses on Jason's quips and the 'coolness' of his plans, but he was never particularly careful with his attacks. A comic staple! Which is why your argument that Jason's OOC for firing near civilians is pretty weak - it's not like went out a killed a bunch of random children, he just got in a fight in public - it's not proof he's OOC!

3. Really? Gaslighting? Giving up any attempt at an actual response aren't you.

For the SECOND time, I'll wait for your quote. Give me a link/quote where Daniels said he hated Jason or didn't want him to have fans.

Here's what Daniels said word for word: "Jason in his own mind thinks that he's taking the necessary steps to combat the evil in Gotham City. In his mind he's not doing anything wrong, he's fighting fire with fire. The big difference between Jason and Bruce is their approach. Jason was always a little bit more on the reckless, daring side, and he obviously has a screw loose after coming back from the Lazarus Pit. When you do come back from the Lazarus Pit, you're not one hundred percent right in the head, and Jason really wasn't all that right in the head to begin with. What I like about his character is that he really believes in the way he's going about his business, and in his mind he's right. In his mind he's not a bad guy."

He even gave him the Lazarus pit excuse!

Also, wasn't ✨Winnick✨ one of the writers on Battle for Cowl?

4. Wow, so YOU'RE going to bring up interviews as proof of authors' views and then ignore the ones you dislike because 'the author was trying to be polite'? yeah, I'm done with this conversation.

Also, I'm gaslighting? I said Daniels and Jones didn't write OOC Red Hood. Not Morrision. And Winnick literally told Jones, 'Red Hood's a bad guy.' Not the kind of reminder someone who hated RH would need.

Morison wrote everyone badly, not denying that. Don't even get me started on his Talia.

But, 'Winnick wasn't one to cause drama?'

Please, Winnick's entire 3 issues on B&R were a massive temper tantrum that Morrison made RH look stupid. It was beyond unprofessional to do what he did on someone else's comic - to hijack the last few issues of Dick and Damian's run as Batman and Robin and turn it into a Red Hood comic.

5. You just keep saying the same thing and completely ignoring what I'm saying - timing/age/no leads from secondary causes are comic conventions! they don't mean anything!

I'm not defending the plot hole - just saying a timing inconsistency is not proof of OOC writing.

6. The Tim thing WAS PART OF HIS VENDETTA AGAINST BRUCE! It's no less out of his way than arranging the whole Hush thing?

7. Wooooow, Neat sidestepping of my point there - kudos.

Jason looks disturbed for one second. 1 panel. Before he starting grinning and taunting Bruce about it. He doesn't try helping or even letting Batman go help. That was the kind of guy Winnick's Red Hood was - obsessed and violent - Daniels, Johns and Morrison's version built off of that!

Also, you know Amazo was made to take out the entire LEAGUE, right? That's the problem with Winnick really - everything looks cool, but look a little deeper and there're massive logical problems (for one, Bruce and Dick shouldn't have been able to beat Amazo like that & 2, Winnick turned BM into a caricature).

Actually, yes Jason did killl petty criminals. To quote you, "it's really that simple when you have comprehension."

No wonder you think RH was OOC everywhere else if that's how well you read. The high-ups discuss him killing regular dealers during the Onyx issue. Convenient that you missed that.

Where does Jason care about kids - any specifics besides not selling drugs to them and saving trafficked ones? (again, kiiinda seems like the bare minimum). He had his own sidekick, Sasha, remember - and if I'm not wrong, even Winnick kept her around.

Becoming a crime lord with ✨ the low low bar of not directly selling drugs to kids does != caring for kids ✨

Dude, he knew Damian about as well as he knew Mia or Onyx! Damian was Bruce's kid and was wearing a catsuit - Jason shot him to distract Dick and escape! What's so hard to understand.

What's the whole deal with 'He DiDN't KnOW DaMIAn?' Damian fought him. that was more than enough.

Do you think he took Mia out for brunch and a heart-to-heart? Painted toenails with Onyx? Had a Smash Bros tournament with Oliver?

And yes, New 52 did retcon away a bunch? You call it 'regretting the extremes he went to'? That's a nice way of saying it basically retconned away Jason's role in BftC and Morrission's Batman and Robin AND Infinity Crisis and left it up to the reader to decide how much of the UtRH even happened!

Also, it completely screwed over the timeline and I know how much that bothers you lol.

Tell me which part of my explanation of point 8 in the previous reply doesn't make sense. You might not like it, but again, that doesn't make it wrong/OOC.

It's literally impossible to read bat fanfiction because it's all based off those ridiculous fanon tropes that spread like crazy and people take as fucking biblical!!!!! Dick was never a jerk to Jason when he was Robin- they got along because Dick is mature as hell and in one retelling- Jason was a jerk to him!! And when he came back as Red Hood he had literally not a single damn reason to treat Dick like shit! Not a damn one! But he did, didn't he? Cause he's the fucking asshole! How dare you make Dick grovel towards that bastard! Dick has only ever tried to help him! Reached out during his Batman run, over and over! Also- Dick never put Jason in Arkham with Joker just a few cells down???? What the fuck! The Joker and all those other fuckers had been broken out of Arkham by Black Mask already for like the whole run??? Jason went to Arkham after losing to Dick, and Gordon put him in there because One he fucking deserved it, Two the literal circumstances?? And at that point!! Arkham was fucking rehabilitated itself!! By Dick!!! Because Bruce had him go undercover there for real, and Dick was actually tortured there before he got out!! So Dick put in the work to get that shit in order to actually help people!!

Dick never chose Damian over Tim- Tim refused to engage with him over his grief, shut him out, and left of his own devices! He never told Dick his suspicions on why Bruce was alive, never! And Tim is not the one to bring Bruce back either, there's a whole team at that point! Dick learns Bruce is alive through tossing his 'dead' body into a pit and the body comes to life as a zombie. Tim didn't tell him shit! Tim is also not a little crybaby- Damian cutting his line was a fucking blip on the page, he was momentarily shocked, that was it! He put Damian on his Hit List, which is why Damian cut his line. And his first attempt at "murder" is just pushing Tim off the dinosaur statue in the cave, he didn't go all assassin on him! Also Dick wasn't even there the first incident and wasn't told about the second incident. Alfred is the one who gave Damian Robin and Dick accepted him because he saw that Damian needed help! He needed guidance! He didn't fucking fire Tim the way Bruce fired him, and fuck all of you for thinking that Tim or Jason or fucking anyone has more right over Robin than Dick Fucking Grayson! He tried to promote Tim and Tim walked off. How dare yall make Dick fucking grovel towards that bastard!!!

Jason did try to kill all three of them!! Why does everyone just gloss over that like what the fuck??? Why does he get a pass for every shitty thing he's done??? "Bad writing" stfu this is the same dude that without hesitation kills random criminals, people who deal drugs, do you know how many random ass people deal drugs??? Jason doesn't give a single shit about being his own type of hero or saving Gotham his own way, nor do the people think of him as their savior!! Are you people fucking delusional?? I saw a post that said citizens would trust Jason over CASS and I cannot Believe the hallucinations yall are seeing???

It is literally downright impossible to find fics about Dick or Damian or Cass or fucking any of them that doesn't include these literal bullshit fanon takes!!! It's impossible!!! This fandom sucks!!!! You don't even need to go buy the comics, all these popular takes have been debunked right here on tumblr!!!! Also Dick can do literally everything!! He's hypercompetent as hell, die mad about it!! Jason doesn't like Wonder Woman???? Where the fuck did that come from??? Wayne Family Adventures is not real!!! Those people could not BE more out of character!!! Look at Bruce for crying out loud!!! Yall know that man ain't act like that!

Edit: leaving this here in case anyone wonders what my hot take is towards this question I was asked: "have you considered tho, that fanon is more fun..."

Well of course fanon is more fun if you're a fan of Jason or Tim. Fanon actively caters towards those two pasty white boys. Fanon actively shits on Dick and Damian though. And for Dick? He literally never did that shit! It is all made up! It's literal character assassination?? But by the fans?? And for Damian? He was 10!!! He grew up as an assassin! He was actively trying to grow with Dick's help! How can yall see him as the bad guy?? And not the literal bad guy, (Jason), and the 17 teen year old who literally fought him back btw, (Tim), like old boy did not act victimized the way you people portray. And Jesus for Cass? Cass is just a prop in fanon. So what exactly about this should be fun to me? Like seriously.

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momtaku · 3 years ago

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I’m sorry if you’ve been asked something like this before, but what do you think about Marie? Personally, I think she was just a childhood crush of Ewin’s and nothing more. He did give her up to fight in the Survey Corps and then mention that he didn’t regret his decision, after all. He even helped Nile write love letters to her or something, right? My Eruri is being threatened and I need to know this lol, please help me!

I occasionally get asks that talk about Marie in an effort to "prove" that Erwin could never have feelings for anyone else or else that he is permanently and incurably straight.

I also get asks pointing out Erwin's flaws - his ruthlessness, his depression, his deceptions, the pursuit of his dream - as proof that he is canonically a horrible person and therefore unworthy of anyone's honest care or concern.

I recognize all of these types of asks as bait and unless I can use them as a leaping off point for something I want to talk about, I ignore them.

Your ask might be bait as well. So many these days start with "Hello fellow eruri!" in a pretense of trying to seem sincere. It makes me laugh a little. Do I seem that naive?

Regardless, I'm in a mood and I can use your ask to talk about something I want to. So thank you for that. Whether your ask was bait or not, I will answer your question sincerely.

Here is my advice to you, Anon. If the existence of a decades old crush "threatens your eruri" maybe you should stick with less nuanced characters and less realistic relationships. Read stories where people fit more neatly into boxes of good and bad. Because everything, all of this, just makes Erwin better. It makes him more realistic. More interesting. It makes him a complex person with the sort of issues that affect complex people. Like all of us he was a multidimensional mix of good and bad, of inconsistency and constancy, of sinner and sainthood. And I love that about him.

His realistic portrayal makes all of his relationships feel real and believable and messy and imperfect in the same way my own irl relationships are.

So yes. Erwin and Nile had teenage crushes on a girl named Marie. Erwin didn't act on it. He was self aware even at a young age to recognize that his dreams were more important to him than a traditional family. As a nice guy, he encouraged and helped Nile and Marie's relationship.

He genuinely cared about Nile and Marie. You mention the love letter smartpass but my favorite is the one that touched on his and Niles childhood games and how he used one of those games to surprise Nile and Marie with baby gifts and best wishes since because of a mission he'd be unable to do it in person. He realistically knew many of those going on the mission, including himself, who were friends with Nile might not return.

So we have Erwin caring deeply about his longtime friends. But we also have Erwin being manipulative as hell and using his friendship to further his cause. Erwin genuinely wanted to help Nile and Marie and the people of Paradis. He also very genuinely wanted the MPs on his side so he didn't end up swinging from the gallows. I have no issue with this at all. People are rarely 100% altruistic so if a character is they wouldn't interest me.

As an eruri, I love this detail about Marie. I love what it reveals about Erwin. It shows that he was focused even as a teen, that he genuinely loved his friends, and that he had emotions. It adds to my enjoyment of the series.

Nothing in the manga "threatens my eruri" because I don't view the relationship as a fairytale romance. I'm going to quote @lostcauses-noregrets here because she's the writer not me and she says it perfectly:

One of the reasons that I love Eruri is that it’s a deeply complex adult relationship. This is not a romantic infatuation, this is a relationship that has evolved over many years and it’s one that is founded on mutual trust, commitment and support. It’s not all plain sailing, adult relationships rarely are. Erwin’s behaviour clearly frustrates the hell out of Levi, but his trust in Erwin is unshakable, and you never question their commitment to each other.

And my favorite (and more colorful) lostcauses quote for people who don't see Levi and Erwin's canon relationship as special:

What the hell do they think a relationship looks like when you’re an exhausted 30 + year old war veteran who has spent their entire life fighting for survival. It looks like this; finding someone who you can trust with your life. If you were to ask me what characterizes a successful adult relationship I would say it’s exactly this; mutual trust, respect and understanding, and when push comes to shove, the willingness to do everything in your power to help the person you hold most dear, even if that means letting them go.

And my other favorite lostcauses contribution used without permission and not requiring any explanation:

Thanks for the ask!

#chatting with friends #eruri #I had a lot of feelings to get out this morning #ok?#thank you for giving me an ask to do that #writing is so much easier with a prompt #also lost <3333

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tojisveryown · 4 years ago

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𝙸𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 | 𝟶𝟼

𝙰𝚌: 𝚠𝚃𝟼𝙸𝙳𝟸𝚀𝟺𝙰𝙺𝚄𝟿𝚏𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚠𝚝

𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚕, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟷.𝟿𝚔

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝙰𝚄, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝙿𝚕𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚕

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟶𝟼 | 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

(𝚄𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍)

⋆ 💌 ⋆

Spring was nearing to an end, the cherry blossom trees were on the verge of falling and the nights were filled with the sound of rain. Days passed and your spring break ended.

The weather had been horrible, no sunny days were near. The cloudy and gloomy days were ongoing. The weather report stated that the next few weeks would be cloudy and or rainy.

Your spring break was ending and school was around the corner. For the last day of break you did nothing but stay in bed, Utahime was out visiting her family so you were left alone to sulk on what you had overheard before break begun.

Your last day was spent thinking how you’d be able to look Gojo in the eye after the information you acquired. “Who am I kidding? It’s not like he’s talking to me anyway.”

You fell asleep sulking on the fact that tomorrow was hours away.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

You walked up the steps, reminiscing on the day you overheard Utahime and Gojo’s conversation. You knew that it was something that you couldn’t bring up so casually and that it was something that have had to come from Gojo’s heart. Gojo was the only one who would’ve been able to tell you, out of respect you decided not to poke your head into business that wasn’t yours.

You reached the floor where your class was held and pursued your way to class, along the walk there Nanami had walked by your side.

“Good morning Y/N.”

“Moring Nami,” you looked up at him and nothing had changed, still the same old Nanami, “You look the same.”

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” Of course it wasn’t a bad thing, you hated change. You’ve always loved consistency.

“Mmm, not particularly. See you later?” Nanami nodded and you both went your separate ways.

You picked a seat and got yourself ready for the first boring day back. You dreaded this specific class, and what made you dread it even more was the fact that Gojo had the exact same schedule as you.

It didn’t help that the person who sat next to you was the person who you sought to ignore.

“Miss me?” You knew who it was without even turning your head, it was the same person who was able to get your heart pounding, the one and only stupid Satoru.

You didn’t answer him, you felt as if there was nothing to say. It’s been weeks since he ignored you. Why the sudden change?

It wasn’t that he knew you were eavesdropping, right?

“Hey,” he nudged your elbow with his “No need to ignore me.” Hypocrite much? He rested his big, fat, obnoxious, ugly, bug-looking head on his palm and looked straight at you. His crystal blue eyes were practically burning holes though your head.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

Throughout the lecture you were being bothered by Gojo, any chance he got he’d nudge your elbow and whisper things like

“Hey, are you mad at me?” “Of course I’m mad idiot, you ignored me for weeks” is what you wanted to say

“Y/N, talk to me”

“Y/N the lectures almost over”

“Y/N let’s have lunch!”

You didn’t respond, it was time for Gojo to be ignored while you did the ignoring. Noticing that you wouldn’t respond he began passing you notes, he’d write down things on sticky notes and stick them on your notebook, arm, and even head.

Most of the things he wrote were trying to get your attention, and when he got bored he began drawing penis’s on the notes and sticking them all over your arm. You gave him the side eye signifying you were done with his shit.

He looked up at you and noticed your sharp gaze, “I’m sorry.” He said as he took the sticky notes off your arm, notes, back, and backpack.

He sat quietly next to you until the lecture was over.

He noticed you weren’t packing your things, “Hey, class ended. Come on Y/N let’s get lunch.” He pulled your arm and grabbed your notebook.

“Gojo would you please leave me the fuck alone? I’m trying to work on this godforsaken project that you were supposed to help me with.” Gojo let go of your arm and flipped through your notebook.

“These note’s suck Y/N we’re never gonna get an A with this.” he looked at you innocently as you violently grabbed the notebook from his grip.

“Fuck off Gojo, I’m trying here.”

“Not hard enough.” you sighed and packed your things going into the opposite direction from him. You were sick of Gojos antics.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

You found a seat at the very back of the library, you came here often especially when it was to study. You liked how peaceful it was and how not many people were around giving you the advantage.

Just when you were about to open up your notebook you were startled when hands appeared in front of your eyes.

“Haha, so funny. I’m dying. Gojo i swear to god keep bugging me and I’ll kill you.” You later realized that Nanami’s hands were over your eyes after he let out a small laugh.

“You sound stressed.” Nanami pulled the chair beside you and sat down, “You okay Y/N?”

“Yeah sorry, this projects killing me.”

“Mhm, is Satoru not helping you?” you flinched at his name, you had given up on calling him Satoru. He broke your trust. You hoped that he’d realize you went back to calling him Gojo, right?

“Not in the slightest.”

Nanami helped you revise your notes and for the rest of the break period you and Nanami caught up. You had heard how his spring break was and how he trip to Malaysia with his family went. You and Nanami had grown closer, and this didn’t go unnoticed by a certain blue-eyed boy.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

The following day Gojo again tries to talk to you but you ignore him, you were done with the inconsistency he had with you and you hated the fact that you’d always find yourself slipping when it came to him.

“Y/N come on, why would you talk to me?”

Silence

“Y/N please.” still nothing, “I’ll work on the rest of the project if it means you’ll talk to me again.”

“Okay deal but you’re on thin fucking ice Gojo.” and again you let yourself slip.

You had thought it’d be best for you to bury what you had heard about him deep into your heart. It was something that Gojo himself would decide to tell you and if he never spoke up about it, it comes to show that he never truly cared about you. You wanted to believe he did but why was it taking him so long to fess up?

“Hey, let’s go on another date to you know.. catch up?”

⋆ 💌 ⋆

It was a Saturday afternoon, the skies were gloomy and grey and the weather was still horrible. The weather constantly put you down, you felt like it was too much of a drag to even get out of bed.

“Oh that’s right, I have a date with Gojo today.” You almost had second thoughts with the way you felt, you wanted to stay in a ball wrapped up in your sheets.

Nonetheless you still got ready, during break to keep yourself distracted you went shopping for new clothes, you wanted to give yourself a new imagine, a makeover. It was time you come out of your shell, new beginnings were approaching, you couldn’t stay the same forever. You wanted change, you almost craved it.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

It was 6:47, You waited at the train station for Gojo, you came there fairly early but you couldn’t wait to get this stupid date over with. You don’t even know why you agreed, one thing led to another and your mouth moved on its own and now you’re here.

You knew you had came a few minutes too early but you didn’t expect to wait a total of two hours. It was about to be nine o’clock and yet no sign of Gojo, not once did he text or call.

“Maybe he forgot..” you sighed and looked up at the dark cloudy skies. “Ha, who am I kidding he didn’t forget.” You knew Gojo was a player, tons of girls fawned over him and craved his attention. You knew Gojo couldn’t resist their attention. You knew that the last thing he would crave, was yours.

Still, you waited another hour. By now there were a few crowds of people but you still weren’t able to spot the blue-eyed man.

Another hour passed by and it was nearing midnight. You wanted to believed he’d show up and that he didn’t forget, but with Gojo believing was never bound to end up well.

You took a deep breathe and stood up from the bench you were hopelessly waiting at. You dragged your feet to the exit and just as you were about to take the first step leading outside your eyes met with a panting Gojo

“Y/N.”

Was your hope being tested?

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I thought our date was tomorrow and then I saw-”

You cut him off by pulling him into a hug, “Shut up Satoru.” Your watery eyes hid themselves into the hoodie he was wearing. It smelt like the hospital, you knew he was lying. He didn’t forget, he needed an excuse.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

Gojo took you to his apartment, it was late and most of the things you two could’ve done were already closing. His apartment was on one of the highest floors and the balcony he had gave you two the perfect advantage for stargazing. He set up a comfortable space for the both of you.

The stars weren’t completely visible but the dark clouds was indeed a sight to see. The silence between you and Gojo was very comforting.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight isn’t it, Y/N?”

“Huh? It looks the same as always.”

Gojo laughed, his head was now turned facing you and moments later you turned to face him. You two stared into each others eyes, you both saw sadness and regret. You both craved a happy ending.

Gojo leaned in and placed his soft lips on yours. One thing led to another leading you and him onto his bed. Tonight was the night where you and Gojo became one.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

“I’m glad we spent time together. This will be one of my favorite days for the rest of my life.”

“Stop being corny.”

“Y/N.” He looked at you deeply with his crystal eyes, the moonlight shining on his skin, the warmth of his body pressed up against yours made this night special. Sadly all good things come to an end. “I’m sick.”

“I know but it’s just a little while longer and th-”

“She really is right you know, you really are a stupid Satoru.”

“Utahime it’s not like I can fucking tell her ‘Hey I have pancreatic cancer and I’m dying!’ Do you know how stupid that sounds?”

“Satoru-”

“Fuck I know okay?”

“If you know tell her. Do you honestly think she would be okay if one day you just stopped showing up?”

“There’s no hope for us, you know that Utahime. I refuse to be the reason that she can’t love after I’m gone.”

“You’re gonna be her biggest regret if you don’t love her now.”

“Yeah, I know.” Gojo’s expression on you softened, he cried in your arms and you cried in his, knowing the person before you was soon about to be yet another faint memory.

You finally understood why the weather had been horrible, mother nature felt for you and Satoru. That night the sky cried with you both.

“How much longer do you have?”

⋆ 💌 ⋆

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 | 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐! 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 :) 𝙰𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌! 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥

⋆ 💌 ⋆

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @peppytine @enesitamor @fairyblue-alchemist @diluczs @honouredsatoru @thankuary @sookyshima

⋆ 💌 ⋆

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