#I love this quote from hunter the parenting so much

[embarressment-erradicated]

[dianawinchester03]

Prologue - Enter Y/N

Series Masterlist

Y/N's POV

I straighten out my shirt,sighing as I watch the corpse ignite into flames in-front of my eyes.

Salt and Burn. Check. The chilly air in the cemetery engulfs my body, I warm my hands over the burning corpse, rubbing my hands together to gather the heat.

Internally rolling my eyes, I pick up my duffle bag and make my way towards my bike. My pride and joy. Quinn's a Harley-Davidson VRSC. I named her after my favorite DC Comic book character, Harley Quinn. Original huh?

Breaking me out of my thoughts I hear my phone ring. Fishing my phone out of my pocket as I lean against Quinn. Rolling my eyes, I answer roughly after seeing the contact.

"I'm alive, f/n" I say hastily. I could practically hear the frown crease on my fathers face with the way I answer. Don't get me wrong, I love the man but boy can he be a pain. "I'm glad to hear you're okay baby....how're things" He asks.

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth answering "Everything is fine, I just finished a quick salt and burn of an old pastor who had been terrorizing atheists" I chuckle ironically at the fact. Like father like daughter, my dad chuckles over the phone. "Wonderful, I knew you'd do well on your own" He says lightly.

"Is that so?" I say sarcastically. "Aren't you the same one who said, and I quote, 'Don't come back if you go out there on your own, don't call, don't text, pretend I'm dead' " I mock his rugged voice as I quote his words to me two years ago bitterly. Granted he's called me every so often since our falling out but I haven't dared called him.

Flashback

September 2003

"Daddy I'm 20 years old! I can hunt in my own. I've been doing it since I've been in diapers!" I yell frustrated at my father. "You better watch your tone with me! Who the fuck do you think you're yelling at!?" He screams back at me causing me to flinch.

"You're not ready! I know the shit that's out there in the world and I'd prefer if you and I do it together. There is no reason we can't hunt together!" He yells in my face, causing me to flinch in habit.

"Your obsession with finding the thing that killed mom is the reason I can't work with you" I say harshly. The look on his face alone, scared the crap outta me. When I was younger, anything he said would scare me. I'd listen to him and follow his orders like a good little soldier but I'm sick of it.

Two decades of this crap, it was bound to happen. My mother died in my nursery when I was six months old. Pinned to the ceiling just like Sam's mom, only a couple months after Mary died, my mom died.

Mom and Dad were childhood friends with Sam and Dean's mom. They bonded through all of them coming from families of hunters. Basically my parents were childhood sweethearts which honestly touches my heart.

After knocking back a few, dad could tell the story of when he fell in love with mom a million times. He loved her with everything. I always wondered if I'd have something like that. Frankly, I don't believe love like that exists anymore.

My mother was also a psychic, a powerful one too. She basically had these abilities like seeing into the past/present/future, moving objects with her mind, summoning/binding ghosts and reading minds. Psychics develop their abilities by 18. She could even communicate with the dead.

She and my dad hunted together after meeting and settled down in Lawrence, deciding to have a family. Giving it up for the apple pie life. Honestly sometimes I think my dad's disappointed at the fact that I'm not like my mother.

"So you don't care about your mother then?" He says back to me coldly, rage dripping from his voice. "I never said that dad! I just can't deal with you every single goddamn day breathing down my neck. I love you so much daddy but shit! I can't take this anymore" Tears prick at my eyes as I pick up my helmet and army green duffel bag. I throw on my leather jacket and head for the front door.

Jumping on my bike, before I could put on my helmet I hear his yell from the safehouse. "Listen to me and listen to me good Y/N L/N. Don't come back if you go out there on your own, don't call, don't text, pretend I'm dead". My heart jumped out of my chest, my helmet clutched to my side. Angrily I wipe my tears away from my cheeks "Fine". With that I snap my helmet on and make my way out of the driveway and into the night.

Present Time

September 2005

My father sighs heavily over the phone because of my habit to hold a grudge. I was surprised last year when he called me for my birthday to say the least. Since then, he's called me every so often. "Listen baby, I didn't call to argue. I just wanted to make sure you're okay"

"I'm fine dad, look I've gotta go. I'm hungry and tired. Okay? We'll talk whenever" Without letting him say another word, I hang up. You might think I'm being harsh but if you've lived a day in the life of my childhood, you'd be just as angry as me right now.

I straddle my bike, placing my helmet on my head. The roar of the engine fills the quiet cemetery, revving the engine I make my way towards a local dive bar to pick up some grub and hit the hay.

________________________________

"Say your prayers little one,

Don't forget my son,

To include everyoneeee"

I jump awake hearing the beginning guitar riff and first couple lyrics of "Enter Sandman" by Metallica from my phone. Without looking at the contact I click decline, turning over to see the handsome naked man next to me. I slightly jump before realizing he's the guy I met at the bar. I'm not one for constant one night stands but sometimes I need a release. Especially after that call with my dad. I groan from the pounding pain in my head. Great, I'm gonna get a bitch of a hangover.

Sighing I check the time. 3:33 am. Who the fuck would call me at this hour? It's a bit creepy no? I put my phone back onto the nightstand and wrap my arms around my mystery man, resting my head on his chest. Mark? Mike? Im not sure. He stirs a bit but eventually falls back asleep. As if on cue my phone rings again.

I let out an exhaustrated groan before turning over and answering my phone. "Whoever the fuck this is. you better have a damn good reason to be calling me at this ungodly hour because I am *this* close to reaching into this phone and going all terminator on your ass!" I whisper yell angrily into my phone while I hastily put on my flannel, buttoning it up and slipping on my panties as I was still naked.

The deep humorous chuckle that I, all too well recognize echo in my ear. "Sorry princess, didn't mean to interrupt your night. I've been trying to call you for weeks and couldn't get a hold onto ya" My heart flutters at the sound of Dean's voice, he's one of my best friends. He's always called me "princess" and I've always called him "charming". His brother Sam and me have always been closer, being the same age and all. Me and Sam shared a stronger bond.

Where as Dean and me....there was never a Dean and me I guess. He's sees me as a little sister but while growing up I had a slight crush on him. I always reminded myself that he'd never see me like that so I just discarded it. One thing for sure, he's always protected me when necessary. Same with Sam, he's like a brother to me.

Growing up Dean teased me and Sam all the time, joking calling me his little girlfriend. Saying we'll get married and all that crap. But me and Sam came to the conclusion that we are just friends. Hell. We're basically siblings.

It's kinda bothered me knowing I had a crush on Dean but that died down when I hit my teens and puberty. We all grew up together going from motel to motel to Bobby's house to motel over and over. Our dads were hunting partners, my dad would leave me with Sam and Dean.

Dean always in charge of course, John made sure to enforce that. I tried my best to help Dean out because no kid should have that much responsibility but he'd always say "I've got it" or "It's okay y/n/n, just go play with Sammy". I love those boys with all my heart.

Last I'd seen Dean for my 21st last year, he took me out and I quote he wanted to be "the first person to see me take my first legal drink".

I turn around to see Mark/Mike stirring in his sleep again, grabbing pack of cigarettes and lighter I walk towards the door and unlock it, stepping outside the sleazy motel room. I respond to Dean "Jesus Christ Dean, it's 3 am" I roll my eyes as I flick my lighter, putting one of the cigarettes to my lips, lighting it and taking a puff.

"Like I said, been trying to reach ya but you're basically a ghost" He says ironically. "Sorry man, I've been trying to avoid pops" I say, taking another drag. "Yeah I actually called him to get a hold onto you, told me you hung up on him. Kinda cold not gonna lie" Dean says lightly chuckling and it all clicks into place, that's why my dad called me.

"Shit, my bad. How have you been? You alright?" I ask worried, leaning against the door of my room. I just know he has that shit eating signature grin on his face when he hears my tone. "Awww is the Princess worried about me" He teases. "You better watch that tone before I hang up on you too" I mock threaten, teasing him back, trying to fight the smile on my face.

I take a drag from my cigarette that's nearly done as he dramatically gasps "You wouldn't dare" He say's melodramatically like an old lady in a soap opera and I laugh "Try me, Winchester" I chuckle as we share a laugh. "It's good to hear from you, Charming. What's the problem though? I know it has to be serious for you to call me at this hour" I queried, waiting for an answer.

"It's Dad, Y/N. He's gone on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days" He says, his voice somber. "He went on a case and hasn't updated you? That's strange" I say as I out my cigarette on the door still, now leaning against the railings over the ground floor of the motel.

"I'm on my way to California. I'm gonna grab Sammy from Stanford and head over to Jericho. That's where dad was working his case. You wanna tag along?" He asks hopefully. Without hesitation I say "I'm in Phoenix, just finished a milk run. If I leave as soon as sunrise I can make it for probably the next morning with a few pit stops"

"Great! I'll see you soon princess" He says flirtatiously. "Yeah yeah whatever Charming" I say chuckling "Wait did you say you're gonna grab Sammy? Have you guys talked since...." I ask cautiously. "Nah we haven't, but I'm hoping to change that. Have you?" He asks now sounding a little down. Truth is, I've talked to Sam a couple well times since he left for Stanford a couple years ago. I supported his decision to leave hunting and live a normal life. It's all we've ever talked about as kids.

He's updated me on his life at Stanford, he's got a girlfriend now. Jessica Moore, boy is she gorgeous. My little Sammy is all grown up. Ignoring the fact he's a couple months older than me and never lets me live it down but that's besides the point. He's happy and I feel bad that Dean has to go get him, but his dad is missing. They always butted heads but if it were me I'd wanna know. He needs to know.

"Yeah a couple times..." I say softly. "He misses you Dean" I add, trying to reassure Dean, knowing him he's probably overthinking going to see Sam. Dean sighs heavily before saying "I do too. I miss you as well you nutcase" I smile at this before replying "I miss you too you asshat. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow" He says and with that I hang up. I walk back into my motel room to see Mark/Mike still asleep on the bed. I gather my things, tossing them into my duffel bag. After taking a shower I wait a couple hours for sunrise so I can leave.

Right as I'm about to pick up my helmet Mark/Mike wakes up, causing me to freeze. "Didn't take you for a dine and dash type" he says chuckling. I laugh as well "I'll take that as a compliment, I'm actually on my way out to meet a friend. It's important"

"That's cool, it was nice meeting you Y/N" he says nicely before laying back on the bed "You too Mark" I say back smiling, his face drops "It's Max". Crap.

Authors Note

HOLY SHIT! I'm so excited I can't. If you haven't noticed this is my first fanfiction, not my first book. The others I've deleted because they were embarrassing and I wrote them when I was 12 lol.

This book however, I plan on sticking to it. I've been contemplating doing a series rewrite on Supernatural for monthssss. Honestly I've read so much and there are plots I loved but also hated in some. So I decided to add a bit of a twist on mine.

I really hope whoever decided to read this that you like the plot I'm going with and I'm sure you've noticed that y/n is a little cold towards her father. I'm gonna be honest, I'm writing based off my my experience with my dad.

I do plan on developing their relationship but in the later episodes/chapters. Whoever is reading I just want to say thank you for giving my book a chance and I do hope you like the plot I am going to use for y/n's story.

As I am bisexual, I've been thinking about making y/n bisexual also but I know there's a lot of straight girlies on Wattpad. So I'd like to know your opinion if I should add that fact. Also I know Harley-Davidson VRSC came out in 2006 but this is a fictional book so let's just pretend it came out in the 90s or something lol.

Side note.

Y/N- Your name

Y/N/N- your nickname

F/N - your father's name

M/N- your mother's name

Xoxo

[mamuzzy]

What is considered child mistreatment in Mandalorian culture (legends)?

I was inspired by this post but I didn't want to ruin a mood with my AcKcHuYaLlY vibes so I made a separate post about it.

While I agree with a sentiment of Cuy'val Dar should have rioted seeing children being mistreated, given they are a very heavily family and child centered culture, I've just recently read a few quotes from Republic Commando which made me wonder...

what is considered child mistreatment in their culture?

Because training children to be soldiers are not one. It is a perfectly normal thing to do for them.

What you will read here about: -- Potential reasons why the Cuy'val Dar didn't refuse the job -- Relationship of a Mando parent and their child: How Munin Skirata adopted Kal and with it giving him a predetermined path of life -- Little detour to the topic of how modernday parents don't include children in the household chores -- Pav-Ti and Ahsoka -- Walon Vau and Dred Priest's approach -- Kal Skirata's approach of training -- Little about Mandos and Jedi -- Sorry (not really), people. I still love Kal. -- I won't tag this as anti/pro/critical fandom fuckery. Only a Sith deaIs in absolutes.

Rest is under the cut.

Why would Cuy'val Dar accept such assignment in the first place?

So why didn't they say no? 1. Loyalty and Respect for Jango Fett 2. In need of money 3. Needed a place to hide 4. It could be HONOUR: If a mando bounty hunter accepts a job, they won't back down from it. That's why they are the best. A mandalorian either completes the job or they die in the process (see: Hard Contact). 5. Child soldiers are nothing out of place.

But the latter is debatable, depending on which bounty hunter you ask. Kal was horrified when he was presented with the facts. Scene from Triple Zero, where Kal realizes what Jango is expecting of him:

Jango Fett indeed didn't tell them the whole truth. I'm pretty sure there would have been people who would have accept it anyway. But I'm also sure most of them were conned this way.

We even know Kal's reason of accepting the job.

He didn't have any outside ties anymore that required his physical presence, so at this point he could just accept a decade long assignment.

And when he met the Nulls, he gave himself a purpose out of this nightmare. Raising these children as Mandalorians.

But where this is come from? From Kal's own buir.

Another quote about how Munin adopted Kal.

Awfully practical people. But also, compassionate. Kal is guided by the same compassion as his buir.

Overprotected children of our modern age

Family centric and child centric views are really distorted today which is about overprotecting kids from literally everything. Even from basic household chores: a parent who is too tired and impatient for their child constantly making mistakes during learning a task, so they simply take it out from the child's hand and doing it instead, because teaching them comes with much more mess to clean up, therefor more work for the parent. Children won't learn that helping out around the house can be a quality time with the parent, because most parents don't consider being together with their children a quality time. This later leads to those awful fights between a teenager who never helps around the house on their own only when asked/ordered. Children are glorified exotic pets, one task from a bucket list or worst, investments. But part of the family? Less likely. Not unconditionally.

PAV-TI AND AHSOKA

If you think about Ahsoka's backstory in the Tales of the Jedi, her mother also brought her on the hunt and made her look when she skinned the animal. Teaching her that death is a part of life and even when they take resources from the nature, they should do it with respect. Pav-Ti was already teaching her to be a part of their small community.

I think Mando culture is the same: they involve their children in their profession from early age. Probably teaching your children how to kill for money is not exactly ethical by our earthling standards. Regardless, they do it together. Little mando'ade won't go to school, they spend their time with the family and learning skills they will need if they choose the same profession and lifestyle as their parents.

PRACTICES OF VARIOUS MEMBERS OF THE CUY'VAL DAR

So that's why I think that even if the members of the Cuy'Val Dar had seconds thoughts, training child soldiers are nothing out of ordinary. I can't speak for the remaining non-mando trainers what was in their mind.

But when Dred Priest and Isabeth Beau started their own little figthing rings in the guise of "preserving the old ways", it was really considered fucky even among the other mando trainers Death Watch couple-goals: torture children together <3. Dred Priest despised the clone cadets and they actually died under his care and this is one of the reason why Mij Gilamar killed Priest later in the books.

Walon Vau wasn't introduced to mando values until he ran away from home as an adult, but his abusive upbringing shaped his worldview on how he trained the cadets. Strict codes and harsh punishments. He had his regrets of it later.

From O66, Walon Vau to Kal Skirata

Love has many shapes. Vau wanted them to survive because he loved them. But loving them and treating them good/bad is not the same.

We know about Kal that he taught by experience. He never gave an assignment to his cadets before he first showed them how to do it.

And then we have these notorious parts of him regarding the clones which can be interpreted so many ways but often used as the evidence as child abuse:

And this one also:

(sometimes I throw my brain outtaaa windoooOOooOooOow what people call abusive these days...)

What is my stance about this particular passage? I think he didn't abuse the clones. He wanted them to survive too. He wanted to make it easier for them which was really hard considering the circumstances. He wanted to be a father to the clones like Munin was to him.

We saw the differences between Omega Squad and Delta Squad. The Delta first left Walon Vau behind because they were ordered to do so. Delta left Sev behind because they were ordered to do so. As far as we know, no one deserted from the Empire from Vau's commandos. They remained loyal to the Republic/Empire. Darman could have been with his son and with Clan Skirata but he choose to remain with Niner in the Empire. He remained loyal not the empire, not even Kal Skirata but his brother. Just like Kal thaught them.

What makes them different from the jedi and at the same time so similiar?

The Jedi seek out force sensitive children to teach them how to control this power within them and make sure, they won't use it for personal gain. And later, when they grow up, they will do the same.

Mandos take pity over war orphans (usually that's the case), take them into their clan of soldiers and they teach them a profession and one day, they can do the same.

Both faction are doing it, guided by the same principle: COMPASSION.

Jedi are practicing compassion toward every living, while Mando compassion is just much more personal on the individual level.

Dialogue from Imperial Commando between Arligan Zey and Kal Skirata. I think this baby stealing prejudice comes from that force sensitive children are separated from their parents and all this goes against the family centric view of the mandalorians where family is above all and the children are only safe with their families.

In conclusion...

My personal take after this little research that Mando trainers didn't abuse children, not in their own mandalorian standards. I say this because of Dred Priest who was condemned for actually hurting his cadets, forcing them to fight against each other, and lots of them actually died.

After the failed experiences with the Nulls, the kaminoans and trainers didn't expose the clones to live rounds and bombs until so much later, that's why the commandos and Alpha-class ARCs feel much more balanced in their phyche.

I think Walon Vau abused his cadets but he justified it with love.

Kal made them to do horrible exercises and said a lot of shitty things to the clones (though I think it's kind of like when you call your cat a whore out of affection) but overall he tried to make their suffering bearable.

[sunofpandora]

Virago: Chapter 3

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

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

omaticaya clan. A teacher to young warriors undergoing iknimaya.

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

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

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

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

(WARNINGS!

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

Neytiri hating on spider/ mentions of insecurities, heartbreak, war,/ fluff/ angst/ mentions of hunting, killing animals, mentions of therapy, military, ptsd, romance, pining, use of military terms/codewords/  fluff ending!

Let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter desc:

Kiri convinced y/n to unload some of her lingering feelings for Neteyam. Y/n reveals that the incident all those years ago that took her parents scarred her deeper than she could have ever anticipated. Is this a battle the mighty archer can’t win? Neteyam has a confrontation with a pathetically simpering Kyuna. 

Authors note:

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

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

IMPORTANT:

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

This chapter is split into 3 parts due to tumblers dumbass word limit. This is part 1.

                                                                   V I R A G O         

Chapter 3;

Cupid Wears A Blindfold.

Y/n’s pov-

Word count: 28k (split)

Lo’ak snores. He snores a lot.

This was no epiphany to you, of course. Lo’ak had always been a snorer, much like Jake.

Ever since the sully’s welcomed you into their home when moving to high camp, sleeping arrangements were always abit of a puzzle.

Tuk often slept in all sorts of weird positions. Often rustling and twitching in her sleep. Some nights she nestles her way in between Jake and Neytiri, the poor couple waking up to an elbow jabbing into their skin.

Kiri was your second best option. She didn’t toss or turn, she didn’t kick or jab or roll. Your only deterrent? Kiri mumbled. Oftentimes talking in her sleep to some soft sung spirit she felt within her own solace, her own safety, her own world.

This never found itself to be a disturbance for you. You didn’t mind the mumbling. Kiri however, claimed ‘she loved you too much to keep you up at night’, and wouldn’t hear a word of it when you tried to convince her that it didn’t bother you.

But it wasn't completely in favor of your sleep schedule. Kiri liked her privacy. And you knew that. Better than most, actually. But that’s what was special about your bond with Kiri. You didn’t need words to understand her. And she loved you for it.

I don’t think I need to explain why sharing a hammock with Jake and Neytiri seemed out of the question.

And though most nights it seemed tempting, sleeping with Neteyam was a no-go.

And here you laid. Staring at the ceiling of the Sully family’s tented Marui home, while everyone slept, you damned yourself restless. 

Lo’ak kept snoring in your ear, his breath hitting your neck.

His arm lazily thrown above both your heads, his leg sprawled across your shins. You huffed, attempting to turn the opposite way. The uneven weight caused the tent to dip unanticipatedly, causing you to gasp. Your hand reaches towards the wall to steady the motion, and to prevent you and lo’ak from falling.

You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a breath before shifting yourself evenly again, and Lo’ak continued to snore, his tail now poking your hip. 

Your ears perked up at the sound of a soft rustling, and a gentle yawn.

“Y/n?”

You turn your head, seeing a sleepy Kiri blink at you slowly, her bright golden eyes adjusting to the light.

“What’re you doing up?”

She rested on her elbows, elevating herself a bit to see you more clearly.

You sighed, glancing back at Lo’ak.

“Oh. You know. Just doing a little late night praying. Praying that eywa will take me before his snoring does.”

Your blank tone made Kiri giggle, stifling her laughs with her palm.

“Oh trust me. I've shared a tent with him longer than you have.”

Silence draws between you both as your quiet chuckles slowly start to simmer away under the dark tent top.

Kiri sits up slightly, gesturing with one hand for you to come closer.

You shake your head, hesitantly treading her offer. You knew how kiri liked her distance.

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You? A bother? Y/n, you’re probably the person in this entire tent that bothers me the least.”

You crack a smile, huffing out a small sigh of defeat.

You slip out of your hammock, slithering your way over small objects that became obstacles on the floor with stealthy yet lethargic motions. of the family’s home before successfully snuggling under the blanket of kiri’s larger hammock. Now comfortable without the cramped positioning.

She chuckled, rubbing your back. 

“Comfy?”

You nod, smiling at her.

“You're a lifesaver, Kiri. My hero.”

She ruffles your braids, winking.

“Nah. If anything, you are my hero.”

Kiri and you have always been close, ever since you were children. Your mother and Neytiri were practically attached at the hip, and since you, spider, and lo’ak were always a package deal, you and kiri had grown up playing together.

Kiri was softer spoken as a child, and you were loud and energetic. Your mother always said you were an ocean, and kiri was a lake. You, a soul syncing with the vigorous symphonies of azur-string reprised tidelines and honey-hidden siren songs. The ocean forgives, but it never forgets. Its strength is unmeasured. It waits for nothing.

Kiri was a lake. Lush green ripened grass sits along yellowed-tinted sun hazed stems of oddly-shaped wildflowers and imperfect patterns imprinted on petals. She was calm in the still moving water. You were the strength of the sea. 

You always felt protective over Kiri. 

A part of you couldn't help it. The day you and Kiri grew closer was the same day Jake had to meet with the Olo��eyktan of the Tawkami clan. The day the Chief’s children were teasing Kiri about her fingers. You and Kiri were about 8 at the time, and she really only saw you play around the village or carrying spider on your back as you trailed behind your mother and her daily chores. Or when your mom walked Lo’ak back to his family’s hut the morning after a sleepover with you and spider.

The day the Tawkami Chief’s children that accompanied him were picking and poking at Kiri’s fingers.

And where were you? Right there beside her. Threatening to feed the children to your mother’s ikran and telling them that your human brother would come and give them his demon blood “diseases” if they didn’t leave her alone.

They stopped picking on her, and she stuck by you from then on. Cause no one knew how to better handle bitchy 9 year olds than you did.

Kiri yawns, gently rolling on her side.

“Get some sleep, Y/n.”

You mumbled an ‘mhm’ before letting your eyes drift shut.

Its been about 15 minutes and sleep still evades you. The comforting vibrations of kiri’s warmth doesn’t seem to lull you like you assumed it would.

“Are you awake?”

Kiri whispered, and it startled you a bit. You assumed she was asleep.

You turned to face her and nodded. Her yellow eyes glowing evergreen tints in the darkness.

“Yes. But don’t let me keep you from sleeping, Kiri.”

She shrugs.

“I can’t sleep either.”

You both stay quiet for a moment, letting the silence settle.

 “So, Makeyo spoke with you today?”

The same uneasy feeling returns once again, you blink at Kiri.

You shook your head, your voice quiet as if not to disturb the air around you two.

“We were just talking.”

“About?”

Her whisper courses against the flicker of change in the wind.

You stay quiet once again. Not because its awkward, or uncomfortable.

Sometimes, you felt like there was a shackle chained to your wrist.

The memory of your parents still haunts you.

It shaded you in its prison of night, torturing you to watch the sunlight, but never touch it.

You didn’t love anyone.

And yet, whenever someone offered you their hand, it felt like a trap.

A mockery of betrayal climbs your conscience. It's a hue of warm yellow, drenched in crimson and an agonizing black.

Jake told you that back on earth, he fought with other humans in a war that seemed like it would never end.

Sometimes people come out of bloody experiences constantly trying to wash their body because the smell of blood never leaves their nose.

Jake said it haunts you. Like a ghost. Some of the men he met would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. They wouldn’t laugh as much. Smile as much. What once was a comfort was now a cold, daunting piece of lost memories.

It's everywhere. And it hurts. What hurts most is that you  can't protect yourself from it. Your arrows cannot pierce it. your hands cannot fight it away. 

It’s real in some uncanny sense of a nauseating nostalgia. The type of memory that makes you thin your eyes because it's too bright.

An invisible devotion, it holds you above its disposal.

It keeps you away from falling in love. From holding someone's hand. From laughing at another’s jokes. 

Sometimes you hate what you are. What  you’re made out of. Because your soul constantly fights to build yourself out of ripped pieces of the past.

Because all you ever hear is whispers about where that happy little girl went. The girl who chased sun-dripped river banks with the symphony of children’s laughter.

This pain follows you. 

When you wake from your nightmare’s it’ll sit in the corner. Watching you.

When someone flirts with you, touches your shoulder, brushes a strand of hair out of your face, it’ll be there.

What was the use of falling in love? As a child, you fantasized about having a love like your parents. So pure, so deep, so unexplainably perfect.

Only for them to die because of something you couldn't protect them from.

It’s not that you feared death. You feared the instantaneousness of it.

The unforeseen figment of a shape only for it to reveal itself to be a scythe.

They didn’t know it would happen, and neither did you.

And you weren’t fucking there. And now they are gone.

Never getting to watch you or spider grow to be full adults.  

Leaving their children without so much as a goodbye.

Your only true goal was to die honorably on the battlefield. If you couldn’t find peace, maybe your ghost could.

Love was a weakness.

And when you fall in love, the shell of that pain will disguise itself under their soul.

You  shrugged, your eyes averting away from Kiri. There's disconnected fatigue in your tone.

“He was nice.”

“Just nice?”

Kiri raises her eyebrow, scooting a bit closer to you.

You  sighed, unsure of how to carry on this conversation. So you’re grateful when she does it for you.

“He’s a good guy. I've seen him help you teach the younger kids. They love him, always trying to climb on his back and asking him to carry them around.”

You nod.

“He’s a good teacher..”

you trail off, fidgeting with one of 

Your  bracelets. The one tuk made you, the one with mismatched bead sizes and colors. Juvenile plotted patterns in the small vibrant hues.

Kiri snickers.

“He might have to get in line with all your other eager suitors.”

you roll your eyes, poking her with your tail.

It wasn't unusual that Kiri teased you about getting attention. 

Lo’ak’s friends sometimes whisper, quietly laughing and shoving each other as you walk by. It becomes hard not to notice as it becomes a frequent pattern.

Sometimes the guys in the hunting party Neteyam was often in, gently tapped each other on the shoulder, more subtly gesturing as you walked around camp or left for a ride, or even just helped with daily chores.

Their attempts usually deem themself futureless when Spider and Lo’ak glare at them, shoo them away the same way you would a pestering flock of birds.

Its a normality. Though spider was only a year older than you, he policed your love life just the same as any older sibling would. He didn't care that you were taller, stronger, bigger than him.

You scoffed.

“They’ll have to get through dumb and dumber first.”

Kiri huffed, annoyed with the two idiots in question.

“Don’t trust their judgment. They share one singular brain cell and it malfunctions half the time.” 

The both of you laugh, trying to keep quiet. You bury your face in Kiris shoulder as the hammock shakes with your giggles.

You both sigh after a moment, still smiling.

“I can’t blame them.  You’re perfect.”

She whispered.

There's a withering sense of somber behind her voice. It lacked bitterness, but it simmered on a ember, an ephemeral flicker of blue. The sounds of sloshed ash-blue sunsets and burnt-orange auras.

“I am not.”

You mumbled.

Kiri looked up at the top of the tented-hut. The small sparks of comforting vibrations from your bodies nuzzled under the woven blanket that allows only the softest of shivers to seize past the fabric.

“You remind me of my mother. The stories of her in her youth. The perfect woman. Strong, admired, sought out by many, envied by most..”

She trailed off.

If only kiri knew you didn’t feel like that at all.

“You’re my idea of perfection, Kiri.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

Kiri was pretty. You had to remind her of that sometimes. The way her golden eyes shined under a sheet of jaded-glowing evergreen, that of a hued green in a canvassed jungle canopy. Her uneven, choppy, imperfectly, perfectly shaped bangs that fell over her forehead, gentle wisps of dark feathered thick strands.

Kiri’s hair was slightly lighter than most na’vi women. You loved that about her, the almost dark auburn shades of brown that hollowed in chalked streaks of a honeyed glow, proving herself her biological mother’s daughter.

But the one thing you adored most about Kiri?

Her love for Eywa.

You could only envy it.

After the death of your mother, your once undying devotion for the great mother started to rot. You felt like she had failed you. Taken away the most precious piece of your soul and damned her name for tearing you apart and leaving you to pick up the pieces. 

You were angry those first few months, and you think differently now. But your breath still shallows at the thought.

Your smiles fade, and the air around you feels hollow for a moment.

“I wish i could see through your eyes, kiri.”

Kiri squeezed your hand, gently holding it to her chest.

“I know you’ve been hurt, Y/n. I know this pain is great..But the great mother has a plan for you. I believe it above all else.You are strong. Stronger than any spirit she has seen…You bring the wailing ash and fire of the demon ships to pity with just your arrowhead. We will heal together, y/n. I will teach you to find your faith again.”

You let your eyes flutter closed.

Your beautiful, sweet Kiri. This wasn’t romance. This was sisterly love in its purest form.

“..Do you ever think about him?”

The question stills you, you looked up at her and blink.

“Who?”

“My brother.”

The comforting warmth suddenly becomes a sweltering heave of heat. You swallow thickly, looking down.

“No.”

Kiri shakes her head.

“Please. Don’t lie to me, Y/n.”

There it is again, the hole in your heart.

“Yes. I think of him sometimes.”

Silence settles again.

“Is it wrong?”

You whisper.

Kiri shakes her head.

“No. its just that he doesn't deserve to live in your mind.”

Kiri loves her older brother. She truly does. But she was right beside you when he drifted away. Even ignoring him because she was angry with how he had treated you.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, cupping her hand in yours.

“I hate it.”

“Hate what?”

“How i feel like a piece of me is missing.”

Kiri’s eyes soften.

“Oh y/n…”

“No.”

Your voice breaks only slightly.

“No. because im better now.

I hated him. I hated his hands. I hated his voice. I hated his back. I hated his arms. I hated his neck. I hated his nose. I hated his ears. I hated when he promised to protect me, I hated when he left me crying in the rain. I hated that I waited for him. I hated that he promised all the stars in the sky were mine. I hated him.

I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.

I hate how he weakened me.”

Kiri gently brushed some of your braids behind your shoulder

“Heartbreak doesn’t make you weak. If anything, it shows we had something inside of us so beautiful and rare it was worth mourning.”

You blinked back the fresh sting in your eyes. Taking a shaky breath.

“Oh my dear.”

Kiri whispered, hugging you close.

“Get some rest. You don’t need to think about anything right now, I promise.”

You nodded.

“Yeah. yeah okay.”

“You know what? In the morning let’s go bother norm for a bit. Would that make you feel better?”

You chuckled, hugging her back before you both settled in respective places in her hammock.

“It always does,”

Sleep soon found you, taking you in its arms and soothing the sweet darkness.

Across the tent, Neteyam laid awake, his hands clutching a blanket of his own, his body still tensed after what he had just heard.

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

The next day.

You liked hunting with Jake.

It was high on your list of some of the chores you enjoyed contributing with your new found life in high camp living with the sullies.

Spending time with jake was a bonus. Jake and your family went way back. Your mother was one of the only navi that welcomed him upon his unexpected arrival. She was the one who lended him an older loincloth for him to wear that first night he was captured and the omaticaya took away his RDA uniform, and while he had his first ever meal with the clan at high camp. 

Your mother also played a huge role in his journey to become a man of the omaticaya people.

Teaching him things like weaving, beading, and some of the language along with Neytiri.

Your mother was the one who constantly pestered neytiri about her growing feelings for the dreamwalker, helping her unbraid her hair for the nights he spent with jake, letting her cry, laugh, scream, like any good sister would.

Your mother and Neytiri mourned sylwanin together. And your mother grew closer with Mo’at and eytukan as mentors as well, despite neytiri and your mother not being sisters by blood, they loved each other just the same.

Jake and you had a good relationship. Jake often helped train the younger warriors, neteyam, you and lo’ak included.

You were always the fastest, the strongest out of the group, since you were 15.

Jake remembers when you were small. Carrying spider around and chasing lo’ak, bringing gifts to baby tuk, playing in the flower patches with neteyam and making him wear the bracelets and crowns you would braid out the stemmed petals.

Jake was there with you when your parents died, and he ws there when you moved into highcamp with the sully family.

He was there when you had nightmares and woke up in the middle of the night screaming,

You remember those nights, when the images of your mothers body would rip you from your sleep and you’d almost shake poor lo’ak out of the shared hammock with your sobbing and pleading.

You remember jake rushing to you, gently holding you by your shoulders, gently utting your head to his chest.

‘Sweetheart hey- hey i’m here. Mawey, Mawey..easy- easy…there we go. Deep breaths..’

The hoarse tiredness in his voice as oddly comforting.

You remember shaking your head, settling yur breathing as the tears began to flow.

“I-i’m sorry..it was just another bad dream.”

“Hey. never apologize for having a nightmare. You’re okay. You’re safe here. Okay? C’mon. Let's take a walk-that’ll calm you down.”

You trusted jake. You always have. Even today, in the present. So of course you liked hunting with him.

But most of all? You loved flying.

Your ikran was your spirit brother, sometimes even following your commands without tsaheylu. 

The bond you had was strong, stronger than most ikran’s are capable of.

And the best part? He had a temper just like you did. The first time you almost met death was your iknimiya. 

Your ikran threw you off the cliff, and then flew down to attack you further.

Jake and Neytiri had to hold Neteyam back from swooping into save you.

But you did it. You completed your rite and claimed Kailo as your own.

And you soared with him now, above the clouds, barely containing the smile etched on your face as the wind whips through your braids.

You loved heights. You loved how infinitely endless the sky seemed, burning with blasts of azure or an early morning blaze of fire-hued sunrises, or the cold warmth of the rain that refused to fall within the stars.

Revered by the scattered songs of synodic vespers and requiems of rainstorms. The sky cannot be caged. It cannot be concealed or hidden, it is your sanctuary, enraptured by effortless divinity and strength.

Your ikran let out a shrill and you pet its neck.

“Easy, Kailo..”

You hummed, looking over to jake, who sat atop his own companion, Bob. His dreads caught in the wind behind him as he waved for your attention.

“y/n!”

The wind carried his volume.

“I think we should take a break. In an hour or two the yerik herds will come to the river bank. Let’s law low in the woods.”

“Yes sir.”

You gently kicked Kailos' side, tilting the reins to descend after Jake into the forest, weaving around trees and foliage.

You laugh as a gust of wind trails you and Kailo, almost throwing Jake off his line of flight. Kailo was one of the fastest ikran your clan had ever seen. At least, that’s what the elders of the clan had told you.

Lo’ak was often jealous of spider because spider always got free rides on Kailo. You land before Jake, hopping off Kailo’s back and petting his neck.

“Mawey, tsmukan”

(calm, brother.)

Jake landed after you, the sound of ikran wings announcing his arrival. He climbed down right after you, patting the neck of his own Ikran, bob.

Jake spotted some Yovo fruit trees up ahead, cutting you both down a few as you both sat down on some rocks for  snack break.

Jake leaned back, handing you a half of his own fruit as you muttered a small thank you.

His eyes wandered, as he glanced up at the trees, as if his gaze had become conscious of every shape and sound that surrounded him.

“I remember this place.”

Jake uttered in a soft hum in the air, his line of sight tracing around the figment of  nostalgic fixation in the air.

You raised an eyebrow, munching on your fruit.

“Here? At this spot?”

Jake nods, nudging your shoulder with his knuckles. Pointing to the source of the sound of trickling water.

“The pond. Back when I was training for iknimaya. Way before your time.”

He smirked, as if it was something to brag about.

You rolled your eyes,

“Oh goody. Another one of grandpa's war stories.” 

Jake chucked a Yovo fruit at your head but you caught it effortlessly, not even glancing.

“I’m not that old.” he huffs, clearly impressed at your  heightened reflexes.

You chuckled, flipping your knife in your hand to withdraw it from its place in the sheath on your hip to cut open the fruit.

“Can’t move it like you used to, huh pops?”

“You know, I could have you banished.”

“Than who would save Lo’ak next time he wants to play tag with a thanator?”

Jake ruffled your braids in response to your surmise, clearly holding back a smile.

“Where would I be without ya, kid?”

You shrugged, handing him another half of the freshly cut fruit.

“Probably in one of those healing homes back on earth.”

“You mean nursing homes.”

“Same thing.”

Jake shook his head, letting out a sigh, knowing it was probably spider who taught you such a term.

He glanced around again, brushing in the scenery.

A silence commences between you both, the soft shrills and distant flap of wings within the deep jungle is the only sound that demands attention.

Jake speaks softly, breaking the silence with fragile, yet scrambled steps.

“She never fails to take my breath away.”

You look up at him, watching as he leaned back against the tree, letting his eyes flutter closed.

“Who?” you whisper.

“Pandora.”

He hums in response.

you often forgot Jake wasn’t from this planet. That his true home could only be seen as the sirius among scattered stars. What was it like? Seeing your home from below? The only thing worth touching is the implacable incarnation of your memories.

To hide what was left of yourself, a mere ghost that lingered in the wrinkled corners of your mind.

“What was it like..your home?”

You whispered.

Jake’s ears perk up, his eyes landing on you as he sat up slightly.

He stayed quiet for a moment. Staring up at the sky, his finger gently tracing one of the stripes on his leg as his gaze remained absent.

“It’s like living on a skeleton.”

When he finally speaks, it's quite literally the last thing you would have guessed he would say.

You raised your eyebrow.

“A skeleton..?”

He nodded.

“Earth is just a shell. Like the carcass of an animal. A corpse, almost.”

“I don’t understand.”

He nodded, scooting a bit closer to you, starting to speak again.

“Earth used to be beautiful. So many colors you couldn’t count them all.” 

You nodded, trying to imagine the formless figment of a world in which you’ve never seen.

He closed his eyes, as if trying to remember.

“There was light, lots of it. The air, the sun, the stars…”

You blinked at him.

“What happened to it?”

Jake paused, something creeping behind the orbs of his irises. It's a sickening dark shade of a color he can’t remember, but its bitter aching bones are enough to weaken the courage of a once strong rhythmic heartbeat.

It’s a shadow of an echo. Gutted inside something hollow and carved out of shivering pulses running to a soured stillness.

“Humans will take until nothing is left. They will gawk at the lights of a stupid billboard instead of noticing the dying grass under their feet.”

What's a billboard? 

You thought, but decided not to ask.

You stayed quiet, staring at the ground.

“That’s why they want this planet. Because they killed their old one.”

Jake nods, sighing almost regretfully.

“They think the na’vi is their greatest enemy, when really, the ones who have killed the most humans are…well, more humans.”

You can’t imagine it. Taking a life without regarding the soul you have soiled. Does the red on their hands not sting their eyes?

And that's when you realized it.

Death hummed shallowly in its own pulsating methods. But even the devil has an advocate.

You killed. You have killed many. And it doesn’t seem to register until that very moment. You never thought to count the number of raids you had accompanied your clan on, Jake appointed you as his main archer when you were only 15.

When rage and grief overshadowed the shallowness of sunlight all you wanted to do was avenge.

An untamed anger was born in you when your parents died. And you swore every arrow you ever shot was in their names.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

How would they look at you now? 

Their little girl. The little girl they loved. Their beautiful, beautiful precious girl who loved to hear her mother sing. Their little girl who loved to carry your big brother spider around, (because your big brother wasn’t so big compared to you.)

Who loved to visit the pond and play with lo’ak. Who liked to make bracelets with kiri and get thrown into the lake by your dad, tossing around your small body when you were 7 as you squealed through the freshwater air.

A killer.

“Y/n? Y/n. Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

Jake placed a hand on your shoulder, but his touch felt cold.

Jake’s voice sounded like your head was under water. Blurred, distant sounds.

Your breath becomes shallow, but you weren’t hyperventilating. You were just…still.

What if you had failed them? What if they were watching you right now?

Knowing you had killed. Not hunted.

Hunting was for survival. To feed your family, your friends, your clan.

This was killing. This wasn’t a need. It was a want. A want for vengeance.

Were you even a na’vi at all? Killing without respect for life even if they were a human.

Your mother forgave. Your father forgot.

And what were you? A disgrace of everything they stood for.

Your voice came out like a whisper. Every thought and feeling swirling around in your head. Despite your silent panic, the air felt eerily calm, and almost mocking ambience.

“Did I disappoint them?”

Jake stilled for a moment, rubbing your back.

“Who?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?”

You swallowed thickly.

“Y/n..you know you can talk to me, right?”

You nodded, staying quiet for a moment as you stared down at your shaking hands.

“Am I a bad person?”

Jake’s eyes widen a bit for a moment, his hand slowly withdrawals from its place on your shoulder.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because sometimes I like the way pain feels.”

Something clicked for Jake at that moment. 

Where you saw your hand bloodied by a manic anger and bones with regretful splintered scars, Jake saw a shadow. A shadow of a distressed consciousness that he once acquainted himself with.

Jake was no stranger to products of war. Even when those products were souls losing their vibrancy. The colors fading into hardened flesh.

Jake had seen war turn people into hollow shells. Unheard prayer scattered and dissipated under a blood-stained sky.

Jake finally spoke, but his words, slow and somber, treaded a steeper meaning.

“You aren’t a bad person, Y/n. You’ve been hurt. Hurt by people even eywa cannot forgive.”

You shook your head, the threat canvassed along perpetual doubts.

“I don’t know why I’m like this.”

You admitted.

Jake places his hand back on your shoulder again.

“Sometimes people like us, soldiers, we start to like the pain because we think it’s the only thing we'll ever deserve. But we don’t like it at all. Not really.”

You can almost see it. The stars are falling again. The tapestry thread being pulled mercilessly. The colors are falling. The sun is turning cold. 

You had to catch them. You had to chase the colors or else they would abandon you again.

Your reflection seems distorted. Liquid glass in the taunting shape of a little girl.

A little girl who knew no bloodshed. No war. No pain. No anger.

You would never be that little girl again. And its all your fault. You wanted to kill someone after your parents died. You wanted to kill every single human that worked for the RDA or even set foot on their base.

It’s sick.

It’s wrong.

It’s vile.

But its you. This wreckage of scars and bruises, tattered tapestries and broken bird songs, its all you.

That all too familiar sting hit the back of your throat, you could feel your gaze numbing.

“I’m beyond fixing.”

You whispered.

“No one is beyond fixing.”

He promised.

“Can you take some deep breaths with me? Just a few, Y/n.”

You followed his instructions, and the red started to simmer away. The air felt forgiving once again, and your throat started to feel normal once again.

You spoke again finally, after a few moments of silence.

“Maybe I should have my na’vi card revoked.”

You chuckled dryly.

Jake patted your back. “You and me both, kiddo.”

“What you feel is normal.”

He added.

“That anger. That vengeance.”

You glanced up at him. “Na’vi are supposed to solve conflict peacefully first. War is just a last resort.”

Jake scoffed.

“I think we’ve reached the last resort awhile ago, Sweetheart.”

You went to speak, but were quickly cut off.

“y/n you are not some kind of psychopath. You don’t kill for no reason. You kill to protect. You fight because something dear to you is threatened, that's what makes a warrior true to their heart, their clan.”

His words eased your anxiety a bit. But the shadow behind the sun still creeped disguised under the warmth of forgiveness.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I want them to feel pain.”

You whispered.

Sometimes you wondered if pretending to be made out of stone means you’d still break like glass.

War was the type of calm that tranquilized. Drugged you into delusions of comfort.

Somewhere inside you was that little girl. She hates you. She hates you with all her heart.

Somewhere inside you is that 15 year old that’s waiting for neteyam in the rain you swear is just falling stars. She hates you. She hates you with all  her heart.

Somewhere inside you is your mothers daughter. Wondering who did this to you.

You didn’t like violence But you were prone to it. 

You didn’t like war. But you're afraid of the day it no longer has a use for you.

War ruined you. Because war made you angry. And anger tortured you.

You weren’t deserving of sunlight, maybe that's why you familiarize yourself with the bleakness of dusk.

Maybe that’s why you loved Neteyam.

Maybe that’s why you hated yourself.

Maybe that’s why you’ve trained yourself with blood stains and tear tracks.

Your mother was forgiving. She adopted a human child after watching her family die, and hometree fall.

She devoted herself to eywa, a woman true to the kindness of her heart and the flame of forgiveness.

She had seen fire and escaped it.

You had seen fire and burned with it.

The shackles on your wrist. The burning in your throat.

You were a child forced into a warrior.

And maybe it was time to heal, but why didn’t it allow you?

This shadow oppressed you. And maybe this prolonged insanity was a good sanctuary to be understood, not severed. Your bones were made of seared iron, the fissure of a once porcelain excellence.

War had ruined you. And ruined things didn’t deserve to be loved.

Jake pulled you close to him, wrapping an arm around you, you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“You’re one of the fucking strongest people i know. You know that?”

He whispered, and the simplicity of his touch settled an almost agonizing comfort.

“Can you fix me?”

You whisper.

Jake shook his head.

“Y/n.  You are not something to be fixed. You need to be healed. And I know you can do it. And we’ll be right beside you the whole damn time.”

You let yourself close your eyes.

“You're a soldier, kid. Just like me. A fighter.  It’s all we think we know, all we think we’ll ever deserve. We swear to live and die on that battlefield.”

You nod.

“Sometimes it feels like the battlefield is the closest to home.”

Jake speaks once more,

“Until you find someone who feels a little closer.”

By the way he smiled softly, you knew he was talking about Neytiri.

You leaned further into his shoulder, and he patted your back.

“You know, back on earth, we have a special way of dealing with cases like these. Soidlers who need trauma relief.”

You blinked at him, immediately intrigued.

“You do? How?”

“Therapy.”

You tried the strange human word out on your tongue.

“Ther…ah…pey-

There-a-pay-”

“Therapy.”

Jake corrected gently.

“What’s that?” You asked, as Jake stood up, putting his knife back in his sheath.

“Its where you go to someone who can help you talk things out. Iv’e seen a few back in my days. Military psychologists are what we call em’.”

You raised your eyebrow.

From spending time with max, norm, and spider, you knew that humans had a different way of dealing with their feelings than na’vi did. But this new information peaked your interest.

“How can i find one?”

Jake paused.

That’s a damn good question.

He thought to himself.

He hummed for a moment, petting bobs neck and you put your bow back in its place on your saddle.

“How about this, every few days, you and I can meet.”

Jake proposed.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Where?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere you want. We can go to one of the mountains, or the stream, or the caves, whatever. It can be private. And we can talk like you would to a therapist.”

You considered it for a moment, but after all, maybe this would fix you.

You shook on it and agreed.

“Deal.”

Jake ruffled your braids and smiled.

“Attagirl. Lets get moving. Those yerik are probably at the lake by now. I’ll race you.”

You mounted Kailo, rolling your eyes.

“I don’t abuse the elderly.”

“Oh fuck off i’m not that old.”

You faked a wince as jake mounted Bob.

“Oo, careful grandpa. You shouldn't be moving too much like that.”

Jake flipped you off.

“Kiss the darkest side of my blue as-”

Before he could finish, You and Kailo took to the skies. 

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

Back at high camp..

Neteyam’s pov:

Lo’ak groaned as he laid in his hammock.

Today felt like small pieces had been torn out of it. The absence of my father, my mother, Kiri and Y/n all contributed to this unease.

It fascinating how easily little pieces of things leave something so unstructured when certain routines in your life undergoes a sudden cessation. Only fragments of familiarity keep me company today.

Oh, yeah. That and Lo’ak’s bitching.

I’m never one to complain. Not really. But Lo’ak…He was my personal acception.

I’ve been stuck with him since this morning. My father took Y/n out to hunt early before I awoke, and my mother and Kiri have gone to assist my grandmother in the Tsahik tent. Lo’ak lost his flight privileges after that little stunt he pulled during the raid, and I don’t feel like going anywhere alone. I offered to join my father last night on his hunt this morning, but my father insisted he and Y/n go hunting alone.

I offered to help my grandmother, but Kiri beat me to it. My mother asked me to stay home and start preparing for tonights meal. So here i was hunched over chopping up root vegetables while I was stuck in this void we called home. I felt detached today. Like the world just floated around me while I remained rooted like a weathering tree.

My accidental overhearing over my sister and Y/n talking last night is still fresh on my mind.

“Dude..I think you’re done with that one.”

Lo’ak’s voice finally reaches my ears.

I lift my head, and he points down to where i had clearly been so distracted, i had diced the poor vegetable into tiny pieces, too small to be cooked over a fire. They would shrivel away in the smoke.

I threw them to the side, trying to refocus.

“What is up with you today?” Lo’ak interrogates instead of asking. I keep my eyes down, shrugging.

“Nothing. Why?”

He shrugs, mocking my movements, leaning back in his hammock, leaving his leg to dangle, his toes brushing the ground.

“Dunno. You just seem kinda…off?”

I sigh, scraping the new batch of chopped vegetables off the carved board i was cutting them on and into the wooden bowl with my knife.

“Just a bit tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night”

Technically, that wasn’t a lie. Which seems in my favor, if you remember from earlier, I’m a shit liar. 

Memory was a funny thing. It claws at your mind until you grant it consciousness, and then it romances itself with such scandalous notions. Unforgiving us for ever dreaming of forgetting.

It wants to awake something in us that we can only pray stays dead.

I knew I shouldn't have been listening to Y/n’s words. I knew I should have been asleep.

But know that it’s found me, it captures me.

I want to exist in her mind not only as a figment, because there’s one particular part that is beating the shit out of me.

‘I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.’

I used to think she only hated me. Hated me for my ignorance, my hesitance, my fear.

I hated it too.

But no. She hated me because she thought i lied to her, gave her something so precious, so inexplicably binding only to shatter it infront of her eyes.

My love for her was never a lie. It was never a joke, or a ruse, or a figment in this phantom of longing that looms over me. 

I couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. That I knew for sure.

Unfortunately, getting to Y/n was a wall i couldn’t seem to climb.

When she wasn’t out hunting or strategizing air strikes with my father, she was with spider, and Spider didn’t let me go within 5 feet of Y/n.

I had to admire him for it, despite him becoming a vicissitude in the middle of my current mission, I had to give him some slack as a fellow oldest sibling.

If anyone had hurt kiri, or tuk (when she came of age to engage in such ‘romantic affairs’) ,  if anyone hurt them the way I hurt y/n, I’d probably have to put my mother’s years of archery lessons to use. Granted, My father would probably skin the poor bastard and wear him as a coat before I even got a chance.

I can’t blame him for protecting Y/n. 

I try to think further as i continue chopping, my tail flicking behind me.

I decide Kiri is my best option. I’ll find her when she returns from Tsahik’s tent. Eywa please, just give me one chance. I swear i’ll-

“Where’s Tuk?”

Lo’ak suddenly pipes up, he probably got bored with his own laziness.

I glance up at him as i scarped off my knife.

“Kyuna picked her up this morning to take her to play with popiti for the day.”

Lo’ak raised an eyebrow.

“Kyuna?”

I nodded, not looking up.

“Your new mate?”

I don’t like the way he said ‘new mate’. As if i had one in the first place.

I shake my head, slightly annoyed.

“She’s not my mate. I’m not interested in kyuna.”

“Tuk said-”

“Tuk doesnt know what shes talking about.”

Lo’ak shrugs, leaning back to sit up a bit, looking at me with skeptical eyes.

“What’s really going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you speak of.”

He scoffs. “I’m not stupid, Neteyam. You’re acting off. You have all morning, all day, and even now. Whats the deal?”

I place my knife down, glaring at my brother.

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Okay?”

The tent falls silent, and I continue on with my chores, I hear Lo’ak mutter a small apology under his breath. I cave.

“No, I’m just tired..I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

Lo’ak nods, fidgeting with his songchord.

“If you don’t want kyuna…You aren’t thinking about Y/n. right?”

Lo’ak was more than displeased when I started courting y/n. And he didn’t try to hide it either.

Lo’ak loves y/n. Not romantically. But he loves her. 

It’s the kind of closeness that isn’t sex or intimately deep.

Lo’ak always felt like the distant star in our family. The one who strays from the perfect rotation of each patterned path.

His hands were stained with hunger. Imperfect painted sun blood stained skies.

Lo’ak’s trust in us was ghostly and transluscent. He didn’t always feel like he fit the shape carved for him.

Lo’ak’s imperfect edges, sharpened and rough, scarred and edged to a point.

He found his place between Spider and Y/n. His bestest friends. Two people he would die for.

Found his own sky.

Dark blue and purple hues and the warmth of pale moonlight, he found his place.

When Lo’ak found something that accepted him, he protected it with his life.

And I can’t blame him. Being in love your brother's best friend is awkward. 

Lo’ak was afraid of me stealing that away from him.

Of me invading his circle.

The reality of a sacrifice is an odd, unevenly constructed abstraction.

People don’t think I was born from my mother, rather I was carved from stone and polished to a pristine hue of gold.

My parents expected me to build myself wings and fly further than anyone had ever tried.

When the line wasn’t perfectly straight, it was erased and made a new slate. Blank. Perfect. Spotless.

And sometimes, I’m not neteyam to my parents.

I’m my mother, just a younger version.

I am my father, worn thin from a war and plagued by my past promises.

I’m just a shell of something that was no more. Something to refill with their own pieces of the past.

My skin and soul is only stitched out of parts of them. But only the unscathed parts.

Anything that dared to be less than that was indescent. Unworthy of the light.

My mother’s anger, my fathers guilt, was a far too discolored shade to be seen in the sky.

My existence was like a kaleidoscope of muted colors. A prism turned prison.

I think I’ve forgotten how to slouch. How to sit with an unwelcome posture. How to fidget and how to fantasize.

My entire life is full of sacrifices.

Sacrificing y/n for my future.

Sacrificing my brothers best friend. My future mate.

But I’ll be damned if I loose her again.

So, I lie for the second time.

“No. I wasn’t thinking about y/n, idiot.”

Lo’ak nods,

Leaning back, closing his eyes. I mentally high five eywa because he doesn’t interrogate me further.

“You know, instead of taking a nap, you could be helping me.”

I huff, and fight the urge to roll my eyes, and he sighs dramatically.

“Neteyam, I’m too pretty for slave labor.”

I throw a vegetable at his head and he hisses in pain.

“Fuck you. That’s sibling abuse.”

He whines.

“I’m about to abuse my responsibilities with this knife if you don’t get up off your lazy ass and do something useful with your existence.”

I point my knife at him and he groans, standing up and leaving the hammock.

“Easy there, big bro. Spider will be here soon.”

I raise my brow, an uneasy feeling settling in my chest.

“Spider? Here?”

He nods.

“Yeah. We have chores to do too, ya know.”

I shake my head, slicing the new vegetable horizontally, watching the colored juices trickle down the roots and stain the cutting board.

“No. Not here. You know how mother feels about spider.”

Spider was my mother’s foil. An old term our father taught us.

My mother owed Zensira her life. And she swore to her a long time ago, that if anything happened to her or ka’lik, she would step up to be a mother to y/n, the same went for my father.

But Zensira didn’t have one child. She had two. Spider was not biologically her child, but he was treated like her son all the same. Living in Y/n’s family’s tent, being cared for, the same way any mother would nurture a child.

My mother made promises for y/n. But she never made any for spider.

I don’t think she ever will.

To her, he was a demon. And alien. The type of animal with no hope of survival, but refuses to die. Remains unyielding even under the unwelcoming atmosphere of pandora.

He was an actor. A pathetic excuse of a performance.  A pale child painted blue.

My mother loves y/n the same way she loves tuk and Kiri. Would go the same lengths for her as she would for any of her children, and the same thing applies to my father.

Spider was allowed everywhere in high camp except our family’s hut.

My grandmothers hut was an exception, because it was a communal place in our clan. 

But my mother refused to have any sky demon’s presence scathe the memories of her home. Her only safe place. Where she raised her children and started her new life.

That’s probably why Lo’ak spent so much time at Y/n’s hut when he was little. It was one of the only places he could be comfortably with both Y/n and Spider at the same time.

“You know how mom feels about spider in the hut.”

Lo’ak’s expression is blanked with disinhibited concern and a genuine lack of guilt.

“Mom isn’t here. She’ll be gone all day. Plus, we’re making y/n some new arrows. She’s on that group hunt tonight.”

I crossed my arms.

“And who allowed you to mess with her supplies?”

Lo’ak scoffed. Placing his hands on his hips with a cocky grin.

“The mighty archer herself. I’ve been appointed by Y/n and tasked with a very important job. Who am I to decline her?”

“Just make sure he isn’t here for long. She can smell him if he’s been in here. You know mom’s senses.”

Lo’ak waves me off, standing to his feet, grabbing the small baskets of purple and red feathers y/n used for the fletching of her arrows, and starts to tie them to the shaft of the arrow.

Spider joined him not long after, the two if them sat in the middle of the tent, crafting arrows and talking.

Spider glanced at me after finishing another arrow.

“So where is everyone today?”

“Father took Y/n hunting. My mother and Kiri are assisting grandmother- and Tuk is with popiti.”

Spider raised an eyebrow at me, his mask fogging up momentarily with each breath.

“Who? Popiti?”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes.

“Kyuna’s little sister.”

Spider nodded in realization, then his expression soured.

Lo’ak snorted. “Neteyam’s new mate.”

“For the 5th time, she’s not my mate.”

Spider chuckles along with him and I swear i’m losing neurons from just breathing the same air as Lo’ak and Spider.

Or really, just Lo’ak.

I stood to my feet as i heard footsteps outside. Tuk must’ve  finished up her activities with Popiti for the day.

Usually, It was An’kora. Popiti’s mother, who walked Tuk home in the afternoons.

But when I opened the flap. I’m faced with a face that isn’t my little sister, her braids slightly disheveled from a day of wild fantasies and games of tag. 

A na’vi girl, with mid length braids and a beaded top smiles at me so sweetly it’s sickening. 

You know those kinds of people that you've known since your childhood, and you always knew in one way or another, they would grow up to be assholes?

Yeah. That's Kyuna.

Kyuna was the girl that never let Spider or Kiri, Or Lo’ak play any of her games because of their ‘sky people germs'. 

Kyuna was the girl that told everyone not to sit next to Y/n in the communal lessons we attend as children, telling everyone that she lived with a human boy who gave her diseases.

She does this thing where she laughs into her hand, and leans on the person closest to her, expecting them to allow her access nto their personal space as if the world had her name written on it.

She bows slightly, her movements unnecessarily exaggerated as she raises her two fingers to her forehead and dips them down.

“Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam.”

I return the gesture, nodding at her.

“Kyuna. It’s good to see you.”

No it’s not.

She bats her eyes at me, and my annoyance only simmers away when a familiar smaller na’vi body slams herself into my leg, pressing her head into my hip.

I chuckle softly, ruffling Tuk’s braids.

“Hey Tuk-Tuk. Did you have a fun time?”

I pat her shoulder as she opens her mouth to speak, her big eyes sparkling before she’s cut off by a shriek-like voice.

“Oh she had tons of fun! Her and Popiti just ran around for hours playing their silly little games.”

When you're an older sibling, you start to catch onto things. You start to memorize your younger siblings' habits, mannerisms, movements, even the slightest twitch of their tail. 

Tuk was a creature of habit. And I could tell by the way she gently tugged on my loincloth, and the way she tucked herself behind my arm, she was uncomfortable.

I reach my hand out, and she takes it within a split second, gently borrowing herself in the space behind me.

I lean down a bit, keeping my hand in it’s place on her shoulder.

“Are you hungry? Why don’t you go on inside, yes? Spider and Lo’ak are already sitting. I’m sure Lo’ak would love to make you some seed-leaf wraps.”

Her tail flicks at the mention of her favorite snack, and she finally cracks a smile, before jogging inside.

“She’s adorable. Isn’t she??”

Kyuna sighs in an almost dreamily manner, I stand up straight again to face her.

“My mother was informed An’kora was taking Tuk home today. Did something come up?”

She waves me off, ridding my concern from the air.

“Mother got tied up on foraging duty. I figured I'd watch the girls and walk Tuk home.”

I nod, slowly. “Ah. Well, thank you for taking her home.”

She smiles, tilting her head like a viperwolf begging for scraps.

“Oh. No need to thank me. She’s precious, that little Tuktirey.”

I never liked the way she talked about my sister. Her tone was almost mocking, as if she was describing a doll or some kind of inanimate object. 

“Well. I should get going. I don’t trust lo’ak alone with the firepit and Tuk is probably hungry-”

“My father wanted me to invite you on his next hunt. Are you free midday tomorrow?”

I wasn’t surprised when she offered. It’s all she talked about the last 4 times I had saw her.

The one time I did agree, all the man would talk about was what kinds of flowers Kyuna liked, and how no one had courted her yet.

My eywa, I wonder why.

There’s an unsteady rhythm that inhabits itself in my chest. The kind that sets off warning signals in your brain.

I scratch the back of my head awkwardly, my knuckle brushing my tswin.

“It’s a kind offer, really. But I’m already expected to join the night hunt tonight. The one led by y/n and my father.”

She stared at me with some notion of unrequited enamour, and I almost feel bad for her.

“I’m sorry. Maybe another time?”

She nods, her tail swishing behind her.”

“Of course. I’d expect nothing less from the future olo’eyktan of our clan.”

The emphasis on my title seems almost slurred, and my body instinctively takes a step back the moment she takes a step forward.

“Yes, well, my training has only been increasing.”

“Such a strong warrior. A man of the people. I’m surprised you don’t have the women of our clan falling at your feet. Oh, wait You do!”

Why was she yelling? I’m literally two feet in front of her.

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet.

“I should get back inside, kyuna.”

“One more thing, Neteyam?”

I don’t turn my body fully towards her, but my eyes focus on her figure nonetheless.

“There’s been rumors.”

Something twists in my stomach the moment she says that. Like a static running blank. Or soundwaves straightening into lines.

“What?”

“People talk. And there’s been word that the future olo’eyktan of our people will never find his tsahik.”

I groan, dragging my palm down my face.

“Don’t bother me with such matters, Kyuna. All this talk of the future that is too far away to be treading towards. My father is too stubborn to give up his place that fast. He will remain olo’eyktan for a long time before I take his place.”

She shrugs, crossing her arms.

“All i’m saying is..”

She takes another step, her chest nearly touching mine.

“You are wanted for more than you think. The women of this clan practically swoon over the thought of being by your side, and you haven’t even blinked at them.”

I click my tongue, averting my eyes.

“My future mate is none of your business. Nor is it the clans. Not now, at least.”

She goes to speak; but before she can utter her next words, Lo’ak came stumbling out of the tent with a less than pleased expression on his face.

“Bro.”

He tugs on my arm, gagging exaggeratingly.

“Tuk threw up- it’s a mess in there. Whatever Kyuna fed her is NOT sitting well.”

I blink at my brother, but it quickly registers that something wasn’t right.

“Are you sure? She seemed fine when she came home-“

“Dude. I know barf when I see it.

She must have ate something bad at Popiti’s.”

Kyuna was stunned, crossing her arms in an offended manner.

“I beg your pardon? Tuk didn’t eat anything at my place today.”

Lo’ak scoffed.

“Uh huh. Sure. You’re probably just trying to poison my sister. Aren’t you? Our father will be hearing about this!”

My main concern at the moment is Tuk.

“Excuse me-“

I muttered to Kyuna as an excuse for a goodbye, shoving past Lo’ak to my family’s tent, expecting to see a poor Tuktirey doubled over, regurgitating what was either late breakfast or early lunch, when instead all that comes into view is Tuk sitting cross-legged next to spider, as he starts methodically picking out some of the different seeds from the assorted bowls we used to prepare our meals. As he sat making leaf wraps for a suspiciously fine looking Tuk.

I crouched down next to her, feeling her forehead and keeping a hand gently on her back.

“Are you okay, Tuk?”

She nodded, blinking up at me.

My eyes flicker up when Lo’ak enters the tent, whistling as if nothing just happened.

“Lo’ak, Tuk seems fine..”

I trail off.

He winks at me.

“Your welcome. Kyuna left us in peace.”

Pain in the ass or not, I have to admit, Lo’ak was smarter than we give him credit for.

when I finally finished peeling the vegetables, I left them in their basket and enjoyed a break with Tuk, Lo’ak, and Spider.

We all sat eating Spider’s very poor excuse of a seed-leaf wrap. But they worked, for some odd reason no one could place.

Spider didn’t eat, because of his mask, so i guess he settled for conversation.

“So, Tuk. How was your playdate?”

Tuk nods eagerly, talking through a mouth full of seed-wrap.

I reach for the extra cloth in my loincloth pocket, letting her wipe her mouth before speaking normally again.

“It was fun. But I don't think I like Kyuna anymore.”

Lo’ak scoffed, high fiving tuk.

 “Put er’ there sis. Neither do I. She’s a bitch.”

“Lo’ak. Language.” I scold, smacking his head lightly.

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Shes a B-I-T-C-H. Better?” Spider laughs. Leaning back.

Lo’ak shoves him.

“Oh and what’s so funny? Mr, ‘i’m afraid of women’?”

Spider shakes his head, raising his pointer finger to poke lo’aks chest.

“Correction. I’m afraid of your mother and Y/n.”

“Everyones afraid of Y/n.”

I ignore Lo’ak and Spider’s bickering, turning my attention to Tuk.

“Was Kyuna bothering you?”

She shook her head, taking another bite. Speaking through a mouth full of food

“Nuh-uh. But she kept asking me if you were home, and if you had received any courting gifts yet, or if you wanted to go hunting with her.”

I bit my tongue, smoothing down some of tuk’s stray braids.

“How about this, Next time, I’ll walk you home from Popiti’s.”

She nodded and took another bite of her food.

“I don’t think she should be your mate anymore”

Tuk shakes her head disapprovingly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Spider raises an eyebrow.

“Kyuna and you are a mated pair? Since when?”

Lo’ak snickers and I groan.

“For the last time, she is not my mate.”

Tuk blinks at me before speaking again.

“Can you mate with y/n instead? She’s nicer.”

I shove another leaf wrap into her hands.

“How about we play the quiet game for a bit?”

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

Hello my lovely virago readers! So because tumblr didn’t like my original 28k words version of this chapter, iv’e split this into 3 parts. This is part 1 of chapter 3. Part 2 and 3 will be posted straight after. 

Thank you for your patience!

Please don’t forget to comment your favorite quote, dynamic, or moment!

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[bro-atz]

rooftop philosophy

in which: all hunter wants is a place to eat his lunch peacefully, but you disrupt the peace

pair: hunter/gn!reader

word count: 2k

content: fluff, a lot of unpopular opinions, slight heartbreak, kissing, teasing, and a box of chocolates?

apply for the permanent taglist here!

Hunter never thought that he’d have to share his safe place. He discovered that the roof was always unlocked one day by accident because he ran to the top of the stairs and tripped, his hand pushing the door open. He was running away from club recruiters that day. The school’s club fest was going on, and each booth tried to grab him before the other one could, hence the running away. Hunter was popular, and he knew that and he didn’t hate it, but he wasn’t a huge fan of all of the attention either. He needed a place he could go to and decompress in the middle of the school day.

So, when you showed up, he was flabbergasted. He was pretty careful about coming to the roof. All of his friends knew that he would go some place else to have lunch— they assumed with his significant other or something— and they all respected his privacy. You, on the other hand, were not close with Hunter in the slightest. You noticed every day around lunch time that he would sneak off somewhere, and one day, you decided to follow him all the way up to the roof.

The boy reluctantly shared his space with you because he was nice but also because he was scared that you were going to tell someone about the fact that the doors to the roof were unlocked and then the school would lock the doors and he’d have to find a new place. You, however, did not know this fear. You just wanted to enjoy the air outside, and the only times to do that were either during gym class or lunch.

You weren’t one to talk much in class, but you loved talking to your friends. You didn’t know if you could consider Hunter your friend on that kind of level, but talking to him was easy because he would just sit and eat his lunch in peace and occasionally agree with you while you talked about all the things in the world that concerned you, most of them being unpopular opinions.

“I still don’t get why people say money can’t buy happiness,” you started one day. “Money can totally buy happiness. My neighbors were really upset with their grandma died, and two weeks later, they were happy because they bought a dog. A dog. That’s literally buying happiness.”

Hunter nodded slightly in agreement, but you didn’t notice.

“I can’t make myself happy without spending money nowadays. No one can. If you want cheer up by eating chocolate or something, you have to buy it, right? That’s buying happiness. Little kids always want stuffed animals or toys, and when they’re sad, parents usually buy something to make them happy. That’s also buying happiness! Whoever said money can’t buy happiness is stupid.”

You continued talking while Hunter cleaned up the wrappers around him— he was pretty much done eating.

“The quote came from 1750 or something, so it makes sense for then, but now? Money is happiness. Material wealth is tied to happiness, and you can quote me on that.”

The bell rang. The unspoken agreement between the two of you was that you would head back to the classroom first, then him a couple minutes later. It’s not that he didn’t want to be caught with you, but he didn’t want his hiding spot being found, and if people thought you two were together, then it meant risking the discovering of his spot.

“Fairy tales are horrible if you really think about it. They tell you that there’s always a good person and an evil person and that you’re either one or the other. Fables are where it’s at. Those have lessons and morals, and more humanizing. Give me a lesson over a conquest any day.”

“Christmas is not the best holiday. Halloween is. We should be celebrating Halloween and having that day off to work on our costumes and enjoy the weather before it gets freezing cold outside.”

“Trying to put sweet and salty things in the same snack is gross and doesn’t work. They should come together but be packed separately so we can balance the flavors the way we want to.”

You would come upstairs with a new opinion everyday, and Hunter would listen to your opinions everyday.

As the school year progressed, there was one boy in Hunter’s friend group that caught your attention: Junghoon. Every time you saw him, your heart would flutter. He was always smiling and always laughing, and you knew that you didn’t stand a chance with him because of how immensely popular he was with the rest of the student body. Until…

“Forgetting to hit send on a message really does happen! Why do people automatically assume that it’s a white lie?! I literally forgot to hit submit on my homework last night, and now I have detention. I swear, I did the work…”

The bell rang. Hunter got up, and you left first. Same as usual. When you stayed back in school that day to serve your detention, you ended up getting to spend it with Junghoon, who was also in detention for the same reason as you. 

“I do this all the time,” Junghoon sighed as he admitted to you. “I just suck at responding and pressing buttons. I’ll have something I want to ask someone and have it all typed out, but when they don’t respond, I get upset, and then check my messages to see that I never sent the damn thing. So annoying.”

“Haha, tell me about it,” you said as you stared dreamily at him. That was also the shortest sentence you said that day.

It made you so happy that your opinion was actually a fact that was proven by Junghoon, but it also made you happy that you got to spend time with him.

You never stopped thinking about Junghoon after that day. You fell for him. Hard. You were planning on confessing to him for Valentine’s Day because, as far as you could tell, he was single, no one else was in pursuit of him, and there was no harm in trying.

What a lie. There was totally harm in trying. You got him a cute little box of chocolates and waited for him before school in front of the gates. You were going to pull him aside and hand him the box of chocolates then confess, but before you could even do that, you saw Junghoon walk towards the gate hand in hand with another student in your class. You wanted to lie to yourself again and say that they were just friends, but then when you saw them hug and kiss, your world came crashing down. You quickly shuffled your way back to the school building, shoved the chocolates back into your bag, and sat at your desk.

Your eyes were misty for the first half of the day, but as the day progressed, your sadness morphed into humor as a defense mechanism then into cynicism. By the time you got to lunch, you justified to yourself why someone like Junghoon was totally out of your reach.

“Here’s the thing, Hunter,” you started with your lecture the second the rooftop door closed behind you. “Things are beautiful. People are beautiful. The world is beautiful. But! Not everything is beautiful. Not everyone is beautiful. The entire world is not beautiful.”

You plopped down on the ground next to him. He continued eating, you continued talking— lunch as per usual.

“I wonder what it must be like to be beautiful. I imagine those people are always, “oh my God, being beautiful is so hard! My life is so tragic!” and then they’re just sweating sparkles and gold and you’re annoyed with them because living a beautiful life is nothing. Nothing! They don’t have to work for anything! Things just fall into their hands.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow because this was a different rant for once.

“I will never know that feeling because I’m not beautiful,” you explained. “People are attracted to and love beautiful things… And I am not one of them.”

“Y/N, shut up,” Hunter said— he had never, ever said anything during your rants or lectures, but this time was different because the rant was different.

“What? It is true. Beautiful things, beautiful people— no one can resist them. Meanwhile, me? I’m not someone’s first choice, and I’m not really a choice anyone considers because I’m not beautiful or even pretty. I’m just… Okay. I’m mid. I’m aight. Not attractive, just aight.”

“Stop it, Y/N.”

“What’s your deal? Since when do you care about what I talk about? You usually just ignore me, anyway.”

“No, I don’t.”

“See? You don’t care—”

“I do care, Y/N,” Hunter interrupted. “And I don’t ignore you. I always listen to everything you say and stay quiet because I usually agree, but right now? Right now, you’re so wrong.”

“Huh? Wrong about what? Liking beautiful things? Do you not like beautiful things?”

“I do, but that’s not what I’m taking about. You’re not just okay, you’re not mid… I’d say you’re aight, but you’re beautiful, too.”

You stared at Hunter for a solid minute before bursting out laughing. He had such a serious look on his face, and he made the funniest joke with that straight face of his. “That’s a funny joke, Hunter. You should be a comedian,” you said while wiping tears from your eyes.

Hunter’s face didn’t even flinch, causing you to laugh all over again. His stone face was incredible. You continued to laugh, but he still didn’t laugh; he didn’t even smile because he wasn’t joking.

“Hunter, you don’t have to lie to make me laugh and feel better, but thanks for that. I needed it.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

“Wait, but wasn’t the joke the fact that it’s a lie? See, wait. Let me look it up…” You took your phone out and typed quickly pulling up the definition of the word. “Okay, it says here that beautiful means “pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically, and of a very high standard,” and that definition is definitely not—”

Hunter couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed your wrist and moved your phone away from your face before pressing his lips firmly against yours. Your eyes went wide, only for you to squeeze your eyes shut when you felt Hunter’s other hand move to the back of your head and hold you gently, his lips leaving an additional kiss, then two, then more until your phone slipped out of your hand. You were completely flabbergasted when he finally stopped and moved back, your eyes staring into his.

“W-wh-what…?” For once, you had no words.

“Now you listen, and let me talk,” he said gently. “Originally, I let you come up here because I didn’t want to lose the access to the roof. I was slightly annoyed at first because I wanted to eat my lunch in peace, but every day, you come up here with something new to talk about, and I’m always intrigued and entertained.”

“I had no—”

“Shut up, I’m not done,” Hunter held a finger to your lips. “I like your company, Y/N, and I like you, so it kills me to hear you say those kinds of things about yourself. So, stop it.”

You stared at Hunter, eyes wide, jaw dropped. 

“I always care about everything you say and think and do, Y/N. If I didn’t, I would have made you stop talking like I did today.”

Hunter let go of your hand and moved away from you while you were still shellshocked. Your mind was blank for once, until a tiny intrusive thought entered your head.

“I have a question,” you told him.

“What is it?”

“So, if I say things you don’t agree with, will you make me stop talking?”

“Yes.”

“Would you make me stop talking the way you did just now?”

Hunter took a second to process the question before going hot red in the face. He let out a couple of empty noises before looking away from you, steam literally rising from the top of his head because of how embarrassed he was. You had to stifle a laugh as you watched him react to your genuine inquiry.

“Love isn’t a choice,” you teased him. “You only like me because you spend so much time with me.”

“Y/N—”

“You just don’t want to be alone on Valentine’s Day.”

“I swear to God—”

“You just want me to give you a box—”

Just as he said, Hunter shut you up, and he shut you up by kissing you again. You couldn’t help but giggle as his soft lips encompassed yours and his fingers tickled your neck and cheek. You kissed him back, suppressing the urge to smile in between each one. It was only when the bell rang that the two of you separated, a slow exhale leaving your lips as he moved away. A small smile settled on your face as Hunter looked away shyly, his face a light shade of pink. You stood up and helped him clean up before heading to the rooftop doors.

“I’ll head down first,” you told him.

Just as you took one step down, you felt him grab your wrist. You turned to look at him, his face still pink, and his eyes barely able to maintain contact with yours.

“Yeah?”

“Um… You said something about a box…”

“What, you want me to give you a box of chocolates?” you asked with a snicker.

“I wouldn’t be opposed…” he mumbled.

“Okay, I’ll give you the box… Tomorrow.”

You shuffled down the stairs while laughing to yourself, and as you turned to take the second set of stairs down, you looked up to see Hunter with a huge grin on his face. He, like you, couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come.

[pinguwrites]

Kinktober 2023 | Day Thirty-One — Jackson Rippner + ghostface!reader

Pairing -> jackson rippner x ghostface!reader

Summary -> In this college au, Halloween is nearing its corner, only for the festive mood to be cut short when your classmate is brutally killed. As the series of murders continues, Jackson Rippner finds himself the next target, oblivious to the fact that his hunter is you, his girlfriend, the ghostface.

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

Warnings: mention of death, jackson being a simp

Disclaimer: Red Eye characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

This is just an excerpt for the full-length fic that's coming out, bc I felt like this prompt deserved something much longer than just a drabble.

A/N: not me reading over this thing after it's published and seeing all the mistakes 😭

Jackson Rippner was trying to become more romantic for you, an endeavor that started about a week ago after he noticed you liked passionate men. It was a simple conversation about fictional crushes — you know, the ones you have as a kid when he realized all the men you had pointed out were terribly lovey-dovey and all sentimental-like. A few origami roses here and there, some thoughtful gifts, maybe some poetic letters, and he was sure that he could outcompete all of them. He was the only man you needed, the only man you could ever want.

He knew how it sounded—pathetic. Since when was he the type to change himself for a girl? He was no Romeo or Jack Dawson, and he certainly didn’t want to be. He wasn’t a simpering fool, chasing after a pretty girl like it was his life’s mission, but as it turned out, he was for you. And if you liked your men romantic, then Jackson would be romantic

Starting off with whatever this was: a package of your favorite stuff. For one, two books you mentioned wanting to get but couldn’t spare the money for, which Jackson painstakingly searched through the town for. He finally found them in some niche bookstore on the outskirts of Craven, overpriced for the value—or some other equally stupid bullshit—even though he knew damn well that he could get it for half the price if he drove further into the main city. He would have, but he knew his father would get pissed if he wasted that much gas money, and fearing to face his fist, he settled for the high cost. It’s for her, so it’s worth it.

For second, and last—at least for now, some bath bombs. He made them from scratch, swiping the ingredients from around the house. He used a cedar wood scent for the essential oil, as it was the closet smell he could get to his cologne, and made three bombs, wrapped them in plastic, and put them alongside the books in the bag.

It was perfect. You were going to love it. You had to love it. How could you not?

He closed the bag and placed it on his desk, ready to go to sleep, when the landline downstairs rang. It was probably telemarketers, but it could also be his parents, who were out on date night. 

He headed downstairs and picked up the phone, but the voice on the other end caught him off guard. “Hey,” a woman said, but it didn’t sound natural. It sounded like there was a voice modulator, the ones that criminals used in those crime shows you forced him to watch.

“Hey?” Jackson responded, confused, and a little irritated.

“I know who you are.”

Jackson tried to focus on the sound of the voice. Maybe he could pick out who it was if he listened close enough, but it was a fruitless effort. It was female, but too common to tell.

“You’re the one calling me,” he said, tone laced with amusement, “I should assume so.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“A creep? A weirdo?” Jackson laughed. “A stalker? I dunno. Take your pick.”

It was quiet. For a moment, he thought the woman hung up, but then she spoke again, “A lover. I’m a lover, Jackson.”

“Good for you.” He glanced back at the package he left on his desk. He was tired, and didn’t want to deal with this right now. “Now, how about you either stop acting mysterious and tell me what you want, or I cut the call.”

“Someone’s going to die tonight, Jackson,”  the woman said. Oddly enough, Jackson felt a twinge of excitement at her words. It was oddly thrilling, and adrenaline inducing to hear such a thing. It was at this point he realized with himself that this was a prank, because who would just admit to premeditated murder? but still—it was hot. He wished you would say those things.  

“I hope it’s that girl from my English class. What’s her name? Ah, fuck, I forgot. She’s the bitchy one —all emotion. Screams every time the lights go out. You know her?”

“Yeah, I know her.”

So, she’s been on campus, Jackson thought. Following me, maybe. I can’t believe it! 

“It’s not her, though. But who knows, maybe she’ll be next. Would you like that?”

“Doll, I really don’t care. Do me a favor, and don’t call me again.”

He put the phone down and went back upstairs. What a fucking psycho. He was too tired to deal with this shit. After freshening up, he pulled the covers over himself and turned off the lamp, drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

Taglist:

@rainyforest777

@thatwitchybitch420

@madeinuk

@gentyleman

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@shroombloom-rry

@meetmeatyourworst

@mrkdvidal1989

[fun-incorrect-quotes]

Here’s some background:

So in the show, it doesn’t really make much sense how the main gang are the DIRECT descendants of all the fairytale characters, because, y’know, how did they advance in technology THAT FAST? So, my idea is, they are all descendants of the original characters, just, many many years down the line. However, their parents do all share the same names as their fairytale counterparts, for the sake of making sense and not getting jumbled up. So Apple Whites mothers name IS Snow White, but she is not the ORIGINAL Snow White, etc. etc.

Because she was raised by her overbearing mother, Apple is a sort of villain. Think of her as Regina George, but all the “royals” love her because she puts on a show of being kind, not because they fear her. Her wrath is focused on the rebels, trying to keep them in line to follow their destiny. Her clique consists of Briar Beauty (descendant of Sleeping Beauty), Ashlyn Ella (descendant of Cinderella), and Blondilocks (descendant of Goldilocks). Not all of them are villain esque, just Apple and Blondie.

Blondie is sort of like Gretchen from mean girls (“that’s why her hair is so big, it’s full of secrets”). In the show, she likes to report on her mirror cast, I will bring that into the rewrite (sort of), in that she has an anonymous blog, where she spills any secret she can get a hold of.

Briar is similar to how she is in the show. She loves to party, and she’s not sure about following her destiny. The only difference is, she’s a bit more ditzy. But again, she is good.

Ashlynn is also similar to how she is in the show. Kind, compassionate. She is also very intelligent. She is adamant that Briar keep her reservations about following her destiny between them, as she fears Apple will torment her for not wanting to follow her “destiny.” Ashlynn is still in a relationship with Hunter Huntsman (descendant of the huntsman from Snow White) but their relationship is kept even more under wraps, for fear of being ostracized from the royals because of Apple. The only reason she is really friends with Apple is to protect Briar, as they are best friends.

Milton Grimm, the headmaster of EAH, is more ruthless in this version. He and Giles are polar opposites. Milton is THE villain. Pressuring all the students to follow their destinies and striking fear into them if they don’t follow it. He is manipulative and wants Apples family to remain to be at the top of the social hierarchy, as Snow White (Apples mother), still owns many businesses and is very wealthy. She has bribed Milton for many favors in the past. I want to add many other ways to make him an evil tyrant but I can’t think of anything else, ideas would be appreciated!

Giles Grimm, Milton’s brother, is, again, Milton’s polar opposite. Similar to the show, he was trapped under the school by Milton and put under a curse to only speak Riddlish, as to not expose his secrets. His curse will not be broken as easily as it was in the show by the girls gathering pages of a counterspell, but much later it is eventually broken by Maddie and Raven.

Raven is GOOD. After her mother is locked in the mirror prison, she is raised by Cinderella (Ashlynn’s mother, not the original). Cinderella taught her to have courage and be kind (like the quote from the live action Disney film). No one knows Raven was raised by Cinderella, besides Ashlynn, of course, and Maddie since they are best friends. Obviously, Ravens friend group is made up of rebels, as all the royals are turned against her by Apple. Her best friend is obviously Madeline “Maddie” Hatter (descendant of the Mad Hatter), her other friends are Cerise Hood (Daughter of Red Riding hood and (secretly) the Big Bad Wolf), and Cedar Wood (descendant of Pinocchio)

Maddie is basically the same as she is in the show. I love her character so much. There’s nothing to change.

Daring Charming is similar to how he is in the show, except more extreme. Very self-obsessed and wants to keep the order (like Apple). Obviously they are together because they want to follow their destinies. (Sorry to the shippers of Apple and Darling, unfortunately at this point in the rewrite I have no idea how I will incorporate this as Apple is supposed to be obsessed with keeping her and everyone else’s destiny and I want to keep Darling good!)

Dexter Charming is still awkward as ever. He does still love Raven. I want his to eventually be in a relationship with her (in secret of course because of his brother and Apple) I’m not sure how else to develop his character, but I did want to include this

These are the character outlines I have *so far* I might write some scenes that happen throughout if anyone has any requests let me know! 🫶🏻

[bigchumpus]

your pirate au is everything, I just discovered it and. my heartttt </3 /pos your art style is incredible too, the way you draw hair and your design for Pearl's wings are both just. woah. mind blown. gorgeous.

Just want to point out a few things I love!! :)

The quotes from the sketches page: "how do you reunite with someone you thought was dead" <- MY HEARTTTT "almost died" "wings are clipped"

That one instance [screenshot from this post below] of Grian's eyes being depicted as purple after he joins Scar's crew (and presumably whatever incident left him almost dead/"injured and unconscious"), as opposed to the brown they were as a kid? The strong implication that something (or someone? the watchers perhaps? I'm assuming it's something to do with the old crew that took them in as kids) were responsible for it.

"...one day things go awry"

And excuse me again for taking a screenshot [from this post], but the one image in which Grian's eyes are obscured by a bandage, complete with a watcher symbol and a glowing purple eye?? And Pearl's eyes being purple too? And they're both dressed in purple robes... just. insane /pos

The watchers are typically depicted as an oppressive force, and yet they both look happy. IDK. Something something juxtaposition, childhood innocence versus the purple symbolising something that's very widely regarded as cruel or even evil.

All this is to say I really really love it so far!!

and also... absolutely zero pressure at all! but would you perhaps be willing to share some crumbs on the story? :)

SEFJJRHPORDHJ Awww gee! You've made my day! :D Never thought people would really notice the little details

I'm not very good at detailing moth wings which is why I went for more of a starry feel, so I'm glad you like it 😆

And since you've asked so kindly, I could share some ideas rotating in my head,

When you're a kid, I don't think you realize as much the cruelty adults are capable of. Especially when they've been treating you kindly for the most part, and the progression to harsher conditions and punishments is slow. (Pearl would've been the first to notice.)

Grian and Pearl were already stealing to survive, having nothing but each other, so when the given the offer to be spared from their decimated town, and leave as a pirate, they took it. Grian would regret that a lot later :D

I've also been pondering over the idea that no one, including Grian, realized he was an avian, because he wasn't born with wings. So was taken from his nest by hunters who'd thought he'd been stolen (hybrids aren't always treated well, and sometimes hunted down in this au, though by the time they're adults that seems to change a bit), and then taken to an orphanage (which he'd run away from) when they couldn't afford to raise him for very long.

On the other hand, Pearl was born with her traits and would live in hiding with her parents for the first few years of her life, before it'd just be her mother and her, and then just Pearl as hunters had gotten to them.

So when the two met, Grian would often use the fact that they look similar to his advantage, like "Well I'm her brother, do I seem like a hybrid? Then neither is she!"

I think in return for certain protection, Pearl would've taught him some of the basics of the alphabet and reading,

And later when they're recruited to be raised as pirates, maybe Grian would be better at the magic stuff, whereas Pearl would be better at the fighting aspect. Idk I just like the thought that they'd cover each other's bases :D

And during the beginning of the period of time where they're separated, I think there would be mishaps where they expected the other to be there, the way it'd always been.

Something something, survivors guilt and Grian maybe not being as kind and trusting as he used to be, and never making promises. Still loyal although all his presence has ever achieved is death.

Something something, Pearl still clings to the feather he'd once given her, keeps searching because she knows he's alive - he has to be alive, still wonders about if she had just been stronger—

and maybe Pearl sees a bit of her old sun in Gem, and maybe Grian learns to trust in others and himself again with Scar.

Iwouldrambleabitmorebutwe'rekindofinapickleatthemoment-

[frozenrose20]

One-shot title : His Face

Characters: Will Solace and Artemis

Description: When spending her night with her hunters Artemis runs into a face she hasn't seen in years.

Word count :1,723

Note: this is the first oneshot I have ever written so it may not be the best. If you all like it though let me know I may write more in the future I have an idea for a sequel to this one-shot featuring both Apollo and Leto so let me know if you all would be interested in that as well. <3

In her thousand years of living she always found the nights of quiet to be the most impactful. After all it was a serene night like this one when she found her  lieutenant Zoe. Her poor Zoe, she was such a broken girl back then once filled with so much love only for it to be shattered by a monstrous man. She couldn’t  help but snarl at the thought of that brute.

  She was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the noise of whimpering. She looked over at the tents full of her hunters but they were all seemingly asleep. The noise couldn't be from one of them so she looked out into the trees to find the intruder. She summoned her bow ready to strike the creature. Happily ready to kill the man or monster who dared to approach her camp, who dared to disrespect the goddess of the moon and hunt. Drawing her bow she hid behind a tree to shock the creature and once she heard the snap of a twig she jumped out to shoot the creature down.

 She stopped before she could shoot however because she saw a sight she would have never expected. She was met with a face she hadn't seen in centuries. Before moving to America, before the Trojan war, before she was even an Olympian. She couldn't help but hold her breath because staring straight at her was the face of her baby  brother Apollo, with his. Short curly hair that glowed like a halo in the sun, his blue eyes that shone with the knowledge of the future,and his tan skin as if he had been touched by midas himself,but that was impossible. Her brother hadn't taken this form since he first left Delos. She couldn’t help the ache in her heart at the thought, back then it was just them and their mother hiding from the Hera and the rest of the gods. They were so young and joyful a content family, but then her brother left swearing vengeance on the snake that chased their mother across the earth. He left their  life on Delos  as a sweet and innocent child and came back a silent yet shaken man. It was the last she ever saw of this face.  In the years since Apollo has changed his form thousands of times his curly hair was now straight to match with  what he claimed to be America's beauty standards, his eyes while blue didn't shine like they did in their  youth now constantly covered in whatever sunglasses were quote  ‘in at the moment.’

How could his face be staring straight at her? She began looking over  his form and noticing the slight differences. The freckles that painted his round checks like the stars in the night sky and the fear in his eyes. Apollo never looked at her with true fear, maybe a look of wariness when he realized she was angry but never true fear. It looked wrong on his face. It tarnished the face she had kept so close with her. She noticed, In her shock, that her bow was still drawn and with a painful twist in my heart she realized she was the one he was scared of. quickly, she dropped her bow and got on her knees to be eye to eye with the boy.

The boy who couldn't have been her brother yet had his face couldn't be any older than 5 years old. She began to search his essence to figure out who he was. She discovered her brother's essence mixed with another, a mortal. He was a demigod that wasn't too special. Her brother had many lovers over the years, plenty of which sired children but, if they ever took after him they looked like the form he had taken when he met their mortal parent never did the kids look like his first form. She used to be happy about this. It was something special between her brother, mother, and she. It was something that Olympus and the fates could never take, yet this child was wearing a face he didn't deserve. She felt rage at the fates to steal such a precious memory from her,but at the same time she wished for nothing more than to take him away and cherish him with her mother watching his face grow up into what Apollo could have been. The life Apollo had taken from him. To be the big sister she failed to be. This child had so much potential yet the other gods would look at him and see nothing special, only another pawn for their game. This face would change. She wasn't her brother so she couldn't see to what extent. Would he have scars running across his face ruining his freckles? Maybe, his eyes will lose their brightness like his father or, Perhaps, he would have a frown permanently etched into his skin traumatized by the Horrors of this world.

She was drawn out of her thoughts at the sounds of whimpering. How long had she been staring at him? She tried smiling at him but she could still tell he was scared of her. It occurred to her  he must have been lost after all the forests were no place for a five year old boy so she asked him.

“Hello little one, what are you doing out here?” He looked at her with a calculating look, the same one her brother would have when trying to determine whether or not our. Half-brother ,Hermes, was being truthful to him or playing another trick. It's a look he will give often in the future when his life's on the line a voice whispers in the back of her head but she shakes it away. After a pregnant pause of silence filled only with the ambient noise of the forest he mumbles his response.

“I was at my mama's concert but then I saw a deer. I tried following it but I got lost.” His voice was sweet  like a bird's morning call or a crickets nightly tune yet it only cemented how he wasn't her brother. The boy's voice was  that of  a soft melody while her brother even as a child was one full of power, a ballad that could move mountains,a lullaby that could bring long dead constellations to tears. She thought it ironic that her own animal brought him to her. Perhaps the deer knew and wanted to lead him to her. But at the mention of his mother she knew she must have been looking for him. Apollo always fell for the  most kind hearted of mortals. It reminded her of her own mother ,Leto, how she would stay up at night worrying for her brother after he left or how she would worry when he was turned mortal. Despite her desire to give this boy the life the fates stole from her brother she could bear the idea of having a woman feel the anguish her mother felt.

She smiled at him and said, ”tell me about her.”  she began walking to the edge of the forest hoping he knew to follow. He did and he began to animatedly tell her about his mother.  He rambled on about her caring hand and calming voice how she always knew how to fix a problem like a good mother would. His voice held a tone of admiration as if she was his divine parent rather than her brother. A tone both her and her brother used often when speaking of their mother as if she were queen of the gods and not Hera. The others will return him to her in a shroud the voice snarled in her head. She pushed it down though as she realized they were nearing the edge of the forest.  Their time while short had to come to an end as he was a Demigod boy and she was the goddess of the hunt, not a nephew and an Aunt. They will likely never see eachother again much like the sun and moon in different worlds only meeting once in an eclipse every few millennia. She turned to him and smiled.

“It looks like our time together is coming to an end. I do not know if we will cross paths again little to one but know if you are lost look to the sun and the moon to guide you and you will be safe.” he looked confused at first but then he nodded with a look of understanding you wouldn't expect from a child perhaps he held her brothers gifts of prophecy and knowledge unlike her or perhaps he was simply a trusting child  who had yet to see the horrors their world will bring to him. They began walking again. After a while she heard the voice of a woman calling for a Will; it must have been the boy's name. No, not the boy, her nephew, Will. As soon as he heard the woman's voice he smiled and broke out into a run. She  laughed. At his enthusiasm she followed him and watched as he leaped into his mothers arms. She had tears in her eyes and began telling him to never scare her like that again. The mother  looked at  the goddess and met her eyes. In the mother's eyes was a look of recognition. She knew who she was either she was a clear sighted mortal or her brother had told her who he was. it didn't matter to her. She looked down at her nephew. While she did not know what the fates had in store for him she could keep this moment with her and remember the look of joy or both her brother and her nephews face.  She decided that whatever the fates had planned for him had earned him her brother's  face. She met his mother's eyes once again, smiled and ran back into the forest to her hunters.

~

Years from now the boy will be lost again he will finally discover what the fates had in store for him when gifting him his face but there will be no sun or moon to guide him like the woman once promised for not even the gods would dare go into the pit.

[jimothy-hopkins]

This is my precious horse girl Blair. I am far from done with oc posting I love my little guys.

Info about Blair!

General Description:

Blair is on the shorter side and wears heels to compensate. She has thick light brown hair that is always curled to princess-like perfection. She has small facial features and usually wears makeup to complement her appearance. Despite living in the United States for years, she still has a Bulgarian accent.

Blair is usually a quiet individual. She minds her own business. Blair isn’t very confrontational, but when pushed into a corner she will lash out. She doesn’t really like any of the preps, finding them dramatic and spoiled. Blair likes to keep herself busy and to show off with her accomplishments when given the opportunity. When she is with close company, Blair is surprisingly outspoken and witty.

Interests and whatnot:

Blair is a very accomplished equestrian. She has been riding since she was very young, and was taught under successful trainers with phenomenal horses. Blair competes in show jumping and the hunter ring. She has an entire wall dedicated to her ribbons. Blair is always open to bragging about her success as a rider.

At heart Blair is also a huge theatre kid. She rushes to audition for her favorite role in school plays and puts all her effort into acting the part. Blair loves the spotlight and loves to show off her acting skills. She has also done a few musicals. Blair enjoys the close bind the theatre department shares. She specifically has her father donate to the arts department to help keep it going.

Blair enjoys Greek Mythology. Her favorite piece of Greek literature is the Odyssey. When she isn’t doing extracurriculars or homework, she’s in the library reading up on any translated piece she can find. Blair has also been to museums that have Ancient Greek artifacts on display.

Reputation:

The jocks like to have Blair around. Thanks to her parents forcing her to participate in sports, she has a good standing in the clique. She plays her part on the cheer team as a flyer and pulls her weight in volleyball. She’s good friends with Damon West and Mandy Wiles.

The greasers do not like her. While Blair isn’t one to go out of her way to harass them, she’s guilty by association. This isn’t good for Blair. Unfortunately, she’s developed a serious crush on Johnny Vincent. Things can really only go downhill from there I guess

The preps are friendly to Blair. She’s included in their circle very frequently. Although after her break up with Bif Taylor things are slightly awkward. Blair herself likes none of the preps, but she’s good at being fake. In her opinion, she thinks their parents should force them to work more to prove themselves like hers do. She’s rich, not necessarily spoiled.

Blair thinks the bullies are nuisances. She gets along with Trent alright, but the others not so much. She thinks bullying others is a waste of time and that maybe if they put all that effort into learning and hard work they’d be less miserable on the inside.

Blair is alright with the nerds. They do pitch in to help the theatre department a lot with sets and lights. Blair appreciates their dedication to academics. She is friends with Cornelius.

Quotes:

“You! Take this and go buy me some cherry coke.”

“Do you think I care if you take my money? A hundred dollars is pocket change to me.”

“Performance arts are an important part of human history and date back to ancient times!”

“I have practice, sorry.”

“I have to go to the barn after school. I can’t come. I am sorry.”

“I have to go help Juri with his English tutoring. I’ll see you later.”

“That Johnny guy, he’s kind of handsome..”

“The one thing I hate about these losers is that they’ve never worked. They get everything handed to them. I hate it! Why can’t my parents be like that?”

“Hey! Come to the auditorium Saturday nigh to see the school play! Admission is ten dollars!”

“I think I should rename my horse Elmer since he wants to be glue so bad.”

“Why should we waste time organizing a play of The Outsiders when we have a live performance on campus 24/7?”

“I’m so tired. I wish my parents would let me drop at least one sport.”

[hunter-sylvester]

I know you do character analysis, would you be alright elaborating about Hunter and his relationship with his parents? Everyone says he has mommy issues, but it looks like it could be a mixture of daddy issues as well.

I would fucking love to, Anon.

(Ao3 Character Analysis Series about Hunter)

I do think it’s very clear that he has mommy issues. From the small handful of references there are to her, it’s obvious. While he has clear on-screen issues with his father, he still keeps a picture of him and his dad on his bookshelf. His mother- however, is violently ripped from it. Something that can easily be read as a visual metaphor for how he feels about her absence from his life. Although I personally tend to write her as having been directly abusive which creates a slightly different whirlwind of issues, in either case she abandoned him. And we clearly see him display a fear of abandonment around Kevin. There’s a clear cause and effect there.

But I entirely agree that he also has daddy issues. It’s a noxious cocktail of neither parent being someone that understands him or knows how to make him feel at home. And it’s precisely that cocktail of issues that makes Hunter make so much sense to me as a character.

It’s not exactly my style to give fathers a lot of sympathy, but even without doing so, it's easy to see that everything Alan Sylvester does in canon shows he just has no idea what to do with Hunter. (Most notably when he literally gives up on parenting him in favor of dumping him in rehab).

He completely fumbles any weak attempts he does make at connecting with/parenting him and they all end in screaming matches.

“Sorry you’re just a little late with the whole ‘parenting’ thing” (when I tell you I feel that line)

Growing up with a parent (partially more, since his mother was around until 7th grade) present without anyone actually bothering to parent you, you end up growing crooked.

Can’t go any other way. Even if his parents were never mentioned, we’d know they were shitty parents based purely on Hunter’s issues.

In my mind, they’re both obviously neglectful. Evident both from the aforementioned quote as well as just the way that Hunter acts.

Each in their respective ways. His mother by literally removing herself from his life. His father by neglecting him emotionally, not hugging him, etc. (I'm assuming he never hugs Hunter based on the deeply awkward shoulder tap during the last scene of the film.) Also, this is a bit of a stretch based on vibes alone. But can you picture Alan cooking for Hunter? Can you picture them having dinner together? I can’t. It’s a bit of a headcanon but I personally believe Hunter has been making his own food for years. (note: this does not necessarily imply that he is a good cook)

Let’s also not forget that Hunter is just a seventeen year old boy. He is still a child (in canon). And a fucking troubled one at that.

One that likely grew up with nobody telling him it was ok to be him. No-one telling him he belonged. No-one showing him how to healthily handle his emotions. (This is one I blame heavily on the father.)

He had to figure everything out for himself. Reinvent the wheel at every step. Of course he’s gonna fuck up along the way. He’s just a kid.

Of course he freaks out when he thinks he’s losing Kevin, he’s already been shown that he can be discarded- and by one of the primary people that are supposed to be there for him.

Of course he’s a bit of a bitch about alcohol when he watches his father drink all the time and he would probably rather die than turn out like him.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Alan also contributed to Hunter’s inability to accept his sexuality. At the very lightest he’d be homophobic in that casual way dads are. The “I don’t care what they do behind closed doors” followed by the most homophobic ‘joke’ you can think of twenty minutes, if not seconds, later. But I wouldn't rule out more blatant queerphobia.

In any case, it’s a clear & constant signal that being queer is not something that’s acceptable for a Sylvester. And as much as Hunter fights his father, as much as I think he dreads being like him, he’s the only parent he has left at this point.

He still wants to be loved. He’s a kid. He needs a loving parent. Even if he, realistically, doesn’t really have one that’s worth appeasing.

Consciously, he’ll rebel. Subconsciously, he still looks up at his father and wants to be told he did well. He wants someone to be proud of him, he wants to be enough.

Call me a pessimist but I think at this point, even if Alan tried, the relationship is so laden with barbed wire that nothing is possibly getting through.

Anything would be too little & too fucking late.

Sorry that got a little fucking bleak...it's me, it's what happens lol Thank you for asking, Anon 🤘

[the-sun-is-also-a-star]

"For someone who loved words as much as I did, it was amazing how often they failed me."

-- If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio

“Because freedom, I am told, is nothing but the distance between the hunter and its prey.”

-- On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong

and as for poetry, i like to talk about "Written in my Dreams by W. C. Williams" by Allen Ginsberg with other people because it's short and rolls over the tongue nicely and i like to come back to it, puts a smile on my face, you know?

i'll also never forget "A Carcass" by Charles Baudelaire from when we read it at school years ago and then again in high school and i have now chosen Les Fleurs du mal as one of the books for my oral school leaving exam, so it's definitely one of those authors i read once and was never able to get out of my head

and last but not least, Louise Glück (may she rest in peace) and her "Theory of Memory" which includes the ending "Right now you are a child holding hands with a fortune-teller. All the rest is hypothesis and dream." and i simply don't have a choice but to love this one

i have so many more favourites, but these are the ones i can think of right now hehe <33

what r ur favourite poems and quotes??

those are brilliant actually

mine are quite, different to what one may think but i like finding meaning in things that other people think are only surface level :

思い出なんか いらん - we don't need memories

this is from the anime haikyuu LMAO which is a fucking volleyball anime and it is the team motto of one of the teams. It is quite honestly my life motto at this point. I used to live in the past, excused people for thing they do now because they were different in the past. they were different in my memories. I was so focused on the past i forgot to enjoy my present. I am done doing that. My memories hold me back. I am tired of it.

"to love and lose and still be kind" - warsan shire

this is pretty self explanatory. i dont think I've had a hard life. but i certainly haven't had an easy one. i have a habit of giving too much of myself to people. I'm working on rectifying that whilst still being kind.

"but i cut people out like tags on my clothing" - conan gray

I LOVE people watching its one of my favourite songs. but this line is really important to me. I've cut the tags off of my clothing for as long as I can remember. ever since i was a kid. I also have a habit of cutting out people the second they break my trust. as easy as cutting off tags from my clothing. I don't think its a good habit or a bad habit. it just. is.

"It's always the ones who are quietest who often have the greatest things to say" - TJ Klune, Wolfsong

This is from one of my favourite books of all time. I was a quiet child for a while. I never got excited for anything and after a while my parents suspected I had childhood depression, we still don't know for sure if I did. It makes a lot of sense though. It took me a while to become confident in my own voice and my own opinions. this quote is really important to me.

"Men don't cry. My daddy taught me that. Men don't cry because they don't have time to cry.

I must not have been a man yet because I cried. I bowed my head and cried." - TJ Klune, Wolfsong

This isn't personal to me in anyway, I just really, really love this part of the book and these two lines in particular.

"I'll be your hands." "I'll be your sanity." - TJ Klune, Ravensong

love has always been something I've read about. but this quote takes the damn cake.

as for poems,

At a Funeral by Dennis Brutus

I analyzed this poem for an English Lit class and the story behind why it was written really stuck with me. It was written after the death of Valencia Majombozi who was shot on the day of her graduation from nursing school. Its a protest poem and it just hits really fucking hard.

Death of a Naturalist by Seamus Heaney

This was the first poem that i ever took inspiration from. I had of course written before, but I really enjoyed Heaney's writing style so it strongly influenced my poem Quietude, which I am planning to submit to the empty inkwell publication...hopefully lol

Identity Card by Mahmoud Darwish

This poem is written as a form of protest poetry as well. Mahmoud Darwish was a Palestinian poet, for those of you who do not know and he wrote this poem about being asked for his identity card by Israeli Officers. Its really, really good.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Once I get enough into One Piece I wanna create Oc based of this Legend of Runeterra character.

Wait

I just did a brief Googling and I can't help myself I'm sorry

Lariette grew up in Demacia, where she first developed her ironclad sense of justice. No criminal too tough, no crime too great to take on. She grew tired of the prospects Demacia had to offer, setting sight toward the hotbed of criminal activity in Bilgewater.[1]

In lawless Bilgewater, she’s become a vigilante whose work rounding up scum from the Bounty Board is never done. She’s taken on the daunting task of cleaning up Bilgewater and making a name for herself—or at least, die trying.[2]

You have absolutely no obligation to accept my interpretation, I know nothing more about her than what is quoted above, I just love her character design and wanted to give an interpretation.

Just thinking/typing out loud now.

Replacing Bilgewater with Loguetown, the town at the entrance to the Grand Line. The town of beginnings and ends, where Gol D. Roger was both born and executed.

Bounty hunter. Takes pride in bringing pirates to justice before they can enter the Grand Line and expand their enterprise.

Her methods aren't always within the confines of legality, but she's efficient and clean in her methods, and ensures that no innocents are harmed; andshe's also fierce enough that the local Marines don't bother (or honestly even dare) to interfere with her activities, so long as she keeps taking care of bounties without disturbing the peace.

Main question is why she's so bent on justice.

Maybe some deep-seated trauma involving pirates?

Maybe raised into bounty hunting.

Going with the latter, her main caregiver in her youth was a bounty hunter.

Mixing it up a bit, her parent(s)/guardian(s) were killed by pirates when she was young, maybe even her whole town was raided and left in ruin, and she was taken in by the bounty hunter that was tracking them, out of sympathy. Said bounty hunter raised her and trained her to be able to fend for herself in a world wrought with violence and injustice.

So she was raised into the trade, raised to detest pirates, hates them eternally because they took her home and family, and became a force to be reckoned with as a result.

Patrols the streets of Loguetown on horseback daily, watching and waiting.

Knows all the locals, and they know her—as a woman of few words, a woman of strength and peace, with the sole intention of ensuring that peace is kept.

The so-called "Golden Age of Piracy" to her is the dawn of the end of the world. It's an excuse for outlaws to run amock, to disturb the peace, to raid and pillage and destroy towns and nations and families much like her own was destroyed, and she will do anything in her power to see it muted.

Pirates from all across the East Blue seeking the One Piece have come to know her name, to fear her as one of the greatest obstacles between themselves and the Grand Line.

Lariette the Scourge, Lariette the Ruthless.

Lariette, the Reaper.

[drabbles-of-writing]

I’m loving the actor au so far, please feed us more *offers a cookie* 🍪

Gus has been acting since. Like age 7. The first few roles were mostly in Gritty or Bloody shows where he really only appeared to be "that child character that made everyone feel The Stakes" or "that child who died off-screen" and he has almost 0 memory of anything disturbing he saw on those sets. Eventually transitioned into acting in horror shows and movies. He got a main character role only once for some movie that's best summed up as Buzzfeed Unsolved but with a bunch of tweens. Barely PG-13, but he cites it as one of his favorites. He was just excited to have a more fleshed out role here that wasn't just "the nerd". Hanged with Hunter a lot when he came onto set to practice acting out panic attacks & similar scenes, got pretty close that way, and also Gus was the one to first clonk him over the head for his concerning methods on how to act the way he does.

Willow has the smallest acting experience of the main gang, being usually just background characters in shows with barely any lines + one minor role of the child of some antagonist in a romance movie who only really served to push the "I should marry this person, I also want a child" narrative that she openly mocks now. Nervous about being on set with people who had more acting experience, but she first met Amity after she walked face-first into a set wall, so she relaxed pretty soon after that. Also keeps laughing through some scenes with Hunter because; "I'm sorry, he just--he looks like a sad, wet dog" which is a line pretty much everyone quotes/references whenever Hunter's on set.

Amity like I said earlier had mostly only done teen dramas as well. Her roles were either mean girl™, love interest™, or sassy girl nerd™. comes from a family of actors, none of which are actually on set, the only people related from that group of actors in the Blight family are Ed & Em. she has Experience with playing characters that have questionable parents so she barely bats an eye at it. Was entirely prepared for acting out as Luz's love interest on the show but was not prepared for a) actually having a character beyond that, that's new and b) ah. it seems. this is not all just acting now. im going to be bullied about this for the rest of my life aren't I

[cherlockgomes]

If I were to assign a Greek God parent to the Disney princesses:

Snow White: Aphrodite.

As she is literally the fairest in all the land, I think Aphrodite fits her well, especially considering that she's the goddess of beauty.

Aurora (Sleeping Beauty): Hypnos

This might be a little on the nose, but I think being the daughter of the god of sleep fits her storyline a little too well. 

Ariel (The Little Mermaid): Apollo

Now, the obvious choice might be Posiedan, and yes, King Tritan is supposed to be his descendant- but Ariel has an entire musical number about how she’s dying to leave the sea. Since Apollo is the God of music, and Ariel is known for her voice, I think it’s only fair she is considered the daughter of Apollo. 

And to quote Part of Your World-

"Up where they walk, up where they run Up where they stay all day in the sun Wanderin' free, wish I could be Part of that world"

Belle (Beauty and The Beast): Athena

Belle is possibly the most intelligent person in her village, and her thirst for knowledge further proves that she would be the daughter of Athena. (Bonus: Being an inventor, I think her father would be the son of Hephaestus.)

Pocahontas: Demeter

Pocahontas was entirely in touch with nature, so it’s only fair to assign Demeter as her godly parent.

Mulan: Athena

Like with Ariel, the obvious choice might be Ares- considering he’s the god of war, but I disagree. Mulan was strategic, much like Athena- the goddess of strategy. Mulan’s kill count was in the 1000s. She was one person up against an entire fleet of Huns. She strategically aimed a rocket at the snow, causing an avalanche- killing them all. 

Rapunzel (Tangled): Apollo

Apollo is the god of the sun, healing, music, etc. Rapunzel fits the description of a child of Apollo PERFECTLY. 

Sun magic- Check. 

Healing powers- Check. 

Music- Check. 

Falls in love with beautiful men- Check.

Merida (Brave): Ares

As a hothead and the god of war, Ares perfectly fits Merida. You may argue that since she’s good at archery, she’d be the daughter of Apollo (since he’s the god of archery), and to that, I’d like to direct your attention to Frank Zhang from HOO. I also think she’d be one of the Hunters of Artemis. 

Moana: Poseidon

She feels most at home near the ocean and has somehow befriended it. There’s no way she isn’t the daughter of Poseidon.

[pearlsinmyhair]

༄ breath of venus ༄

interlude - sins of the father

word count: 1.6k

warnings: mentions of hunting, venus kills a yerik. she has some pretty harsh thoughts about herself regarding her identity as both jake’s and quaritch’s daughter.

a.n.: TARSEM IS HERE! we love tarsem on this blog. he’s one of my fav background characters, and he will make a reappearance much later on. this is a small breather between chapters, a flashback chapter if you will. so sit back, relax, and i hope you enjoy. no quote for this chapter (sad, i know).

glossary:

‘eylan: friend

hi’i tsmuke: little sister

yerik: game animal that the Omatikaya hunt. it’s the llama lipped creature from the first movie that jake hunts.

sa’nok: mother

iknimaya: a ceremony where a young na’vi tames and rides a banshee.

taronyu: hunter

next

when she learned the identity of her father , it was an accident.

“Tarsem, please. I want to go. Dad’s given me permission to use my bow, but no one takes me anywhere.” she whined, struggling to keep pace with the group. They were made up of young men of their late teens and early twenties, and she was only half their height at eleven.

“You’ll hold us back, kid. You’re too slow, and too loud. Perhaps when you are older.” said Cantù. Venus glared at him before turning her attention back to Tarsem.

“Obviously you have never hunted with Venus before, ‘eylan. That, or you do not know her well.” Tarsem countered. He reached down and ruffled her hair, being careful to avoid her kuru. He always had an appreciation for her kind and sincere nature, no matter how eager she could get. “She will come with us. Bring your bow, hi’i tsmuke.”

She gave him a wide grin before running off to do as he told her. When she returned, they headed into the forest.

A few hours later, she was home.

They had caught their prey earlier than anticipated, and Tarsem had allowed her to fire the lethal shot instead of the other hunters.

“Let her prove herself, if she wishes to do so” he had said to one of the hunters who disapproved.

“She can try” Ta’nui said, laughing softly with his friends as he lowered the arrow.

Venus raised her tiny arrow in spite of the snickers, taking careful aim at the yerik. She took in a breath and let go as she exhaled.

The arrow flew straight into the animals eye, striking it through so it peaked through the other side of its skull.

The group was silent as she ran to the beast, now slumped on the ground, and prayed over it before slicing her knife into its heart.

It was her first kill.

Needless to say, she bounded through the camp to her tent, eager to tell her parents of her first victory as a true omatikayan warrior.

“Jake, we cannot tell her. She will be devastated.” came her mothers voice through the tent wall. She stopped and went around to the back, pressing her ear to the fabric.

“Venus has the right to know.”

So this was about her. What did she not know?

‘What if she runs. She has always been flighty, and she will be unwilling to stand it. She is too young, Ma’Jake.’

Venus did not think she was too young for anything. After all, she still had yerik blood on her knife.

She rolled her eyes at her mothers answer. She was always so worried about Venus running off. She always came back, she assured her sa’nok constantly. But it didn’t matter.

She was pulling the flap of the tent aside to ask ‘what do i need to know?’ when Jake revealed it.

“The longer we wait to tell her Quaritch is her father, the worse her reaction will be.”

Venus dropped her knife.

Both parents startled and turned just in time to see Venus’s tail disappear.

They called for her to stop, to wait, to listen. But she wasn’t hearing them. Blood roared in her ears as she ran to the lab to search the files that Grace had left for her.

Memories and questions flashed in her mind as quick as her feet.

Is this why mother doesn’t look at me sometimes? Does she see the man who killed grandfather? Who killed Seze? I am the offspring of a monster. It is not true. It cannot be true.

She burst through the doors of the lab, not bothering to grab a breathing regulator. Norm, startled, looked at her with worried eyes.

“Venus, what the…” he must have noticed her wild eyes, how her breath was ragged, how her chest heaved with stress.

“I need to see the locked file.”

Norm’s concerned expression hardened into solid authority at her words. Despite being in his human body, he had managed to figure out how to use body language against the Sully children.

“Absolutely not, kid. Not until your parents give permission.” She snarled. He jumped at that, flinching slightly before regaining his composure. “Hissing isn’t going to get you anywhere, Venus. It’s locked.”

She didn’t have time for this. She reached behind him into a drawer, grabbing a peice of crumbled paper tapped to the roof of the metal. She had known it was there for months, but she had been patient.

But now, she could practically feel the steps of her parents as they deduced where she was. She avoided Norm’s grasping hands and ducked into the secondary lab, shutting and bolting the door behind her.

Silence greeted her ears. Her chest felt a little tight as she walked forward to the computer beside Grace Augustine’s avatar body. She pressed a hand to the glass as she unfolded the paper and punched in Norm’s confidential password.

She found the file easily, the pounding of the scientist’s fists against the sealed door forming a mantra of ‘hurry up, hurry up, hurry up’ in her mind.

The video opened as she typed in the password to the entry page that loaded up when she clicked the link.

‘Br3ath0£>Enu$’

Grace Augustine sat at the desk before the camera, leaning to the side and speaking firmly.

“You have to hold her gently, Wainfleet, or she’ll squirm out and of your arms and onto the floor.”

“I’m trying my best, Doc, but she’s like a goddamn blue worm.”

The marine came into view, sliding comically on a rolling chair behind Augustine. A small blue hand the size of his nose reached up and patted his bald head.

“Every time, kid? You gotta pat it every time?”

Venus chuckled, even as her gut churned with anxiety and terror.

Augustine turned to look at the monitor, staring into her eyes.

“Hello, Venus. I know you have questions, and i’m here to answer them.”

Wainfleet stood up with baby Venus and walked out of the room.

“Your parents…do not know you are here. Alive, I mean. They decided that it was better that you not grow up in this dreary mess of hell that we call home, so they had you removed before you were even you. Some scientists decided to play god and make you anyway. But i’m sure you know about that part. What this log is about it who your parents are.”

Venus held her breathe, hoping, praying for her to say a nobody, some random man and woman who just happened to become pregnant.

Grace grimaced with her.

“Your mothers name is Paz Socorro. She’s a funny woman and a pilot. She’s got a ferocious little heart. And your father…”

Please, Eywa, have mercy.

“is Colonel Miles Quaritch.”

She hit the power button to the computer and slumped to the floor.

This couldn’t be happening.

He couldn’t be her father.

The man that every Omatikaya child knew. The monster than haunted their bedtime stories. The demon that her mother had killed with two arrows.

Was the man that made her.

It was at that moment that she began to truly regret not grabbing a breathing regulator. She was panicking, her heart rate fast as she ran through each and every memory.

Her mother looking at her quizzically one night. The way that her parents glanced at each other when Lo’ak and Neteyam made jokes about her unknown parents. The way that Jake’s eyes sometimes narrowed at her when her face contorted in anger.

“Baby Girl, i need you to open the door.”

Came the soft voice of her father from the other room. She chocked on a sob as her brain stuttered.

Toruk Makto is not my father. I’m not worthy of that.

She wheezed, and she heard a soft knock.

“Please, baby, you gotta let us in.”

She crawled to the door, thinking she would topple if she stood.

She slid the bolt to the unlocked position.

And there they were, her parents. They looked down at her with worried eyes, trying to gage what she knew.

She swallowed, debating what to say.

She settled for “Do I look like him?”

They descended on her with every ounce of love they could give, pressing her between their bodies as she sobbed. Neytiri pressed a regulator to her nose and she inhaled, chocking through tears.

They pressed kisses to her face and hands, whispering “it’s alright”, “let it out”, “just breathe”.

When her sobs ceased and her tears dried up, she nuzzled into her fathers chest as they explained. As they assured her that his shadow did not fall on her. That his sins did not land on her shoulders.

She slept between them for the first time in a year, and they cradled her as if she wasn’t already more than half their size.

When she woke, she told her father that she was ready to tame an ikran.

She avoided her reflection. She never got an answer on whether she and him looked alike.

She excelled in her training, learning and practicing faster and harder than any other child.

She had always grown up with Jake’s shadow, rising up to meet his greatness. But now, she had a dangerous figure behind her to never become.

And for a time, after she completed her Iknimaya and became a taronyu, she was happy. Because she was safe and loved, and nothing like him.

No, that man was gone, decomposed in a forgotten amp suit at the Old Shack. Forgotten by the animals and plants that took energy from his body.

He was dead.

Right?

so let’s talk tarsem and venus (because other things will be discussed later.) this is basically bonus facts.

i headcannon tarsem to be an orphan of war. i imagine him to be about twenty-five when he takes on jake’s position, so that makes him eighteen in this chapter.

he meets venus officially when he’s sixteen and she’s nine. she followed him around because she wanted to train with him, and he kind of just lets her.

this fosters into a kind of sister-brother relationship. NO, THIS IS NOT ROMANCE. ABSOLUTELY NOT. THERE IS SEVEN YEARS BETWEEN THEM.

tarsem just thinks venus is a funny little kid who’s a ridiculously good archer.

and she thinks he’s really quiet but really nice.

one time jake jokingly said that he should see if tarsem wanted to court venus when she was seventeen and war had broke out.

she sucker punched him in the gut. she didn’t mean to do it so hard, but she didn’t exactly apologize.

tarsem just calls venus’s bluff on a lot of things, because he sees her very clearly. and btw, venus would have approved of the choice of tarsem if she knew of it.

taglist:

@lisedanie @xstarsmvxz @avatar4eva