#but also how they are reflections of each other in many ways

[mediumgayitalian]

“Can I come over tomorrow?”

Nico’s hands still on the stubborn pillowcase. “To…my cabin?”

“Yes.”

“Um.” He resumes, sliding slowly away from Will’s wide round eyes, stuffing the puffy square of feathers into its fabric prison. The ghost of geese past are not happy with him. He is their prince. They will submit. “Yeah? You could all those other times, too.”

“Yeah, but I want to come over.”

“Yes,” Nico agrees, wondering if this is perhaps one of those moments Kayla warned him about. Has it reached day five of Will not sleeping? He doesn’t think so. He was napping when Nico came into the infirmary this morning to help with the tidying he promised to do. At least he was drooling enough that Nico hopes he was sleeping. “You mentioned.”

“So I can?”

“Yes, Will.”

Maybe it’s just an American thing. Nico has been noticing some Moments lately. He’s not sure if all teenagers have unanimously decided on some code they’d like to speak in during the few months he was busy defeating his great grandmother, or if maybe he’s finally stuck around long enough to notice, but nobody says what they mean, nowadays.

(He has gathered, thus far, that ‘on fleek’ is a synonym for ‘aflame’, although ‘yeet’ continues to evade him. Perhaps because Cecil and Lou appear to have indulged in the sick delight of replacing their every word with the term with the sole purpose to Confuse. Or perhaps, as Will has so indicated, they have each endured one concussion to many and are beyond any hope.)

“Sick!” That one Nico knows, at least. “I’ll come by after my morning shift? Connor got cursed by the Hypnos, Hecate, and Aphrodite cabins this morning so I have to do brain surgery before he forgets how to feel genuine human connection again, but I’ll be done by noon. Probably. I mean, Connor has a thick skull, genuinely I mean, which is why his lobotomy has been delayed so many times, but so long as I —”

It has been under Nico’s notice lately that Will eyes, genuinely, sparkle. He has read the cliche time and time again and rolled his eyes almost every time: diamonds sparkle. Water sparkles. Snow sparkles. Eyes reflect, and sometimes glow with reflection. They do not sparkle. To claim a set of eyes are sparkling is to profess to the world and all capable of registering your words that you are a brainless idiot who cannot dredge up from the depths of your mind, the most barren and bereft back corners, a single unique or clever comparison; a minutely original way to describe excitement or animation.

And yet.

Will is indeed very animated, and very excited about very many things, and it shows on his face; in the wideness of his grins, the springing mass of his curls, the stilted and flailing gilt of his languid limbs. It also shows, perhaps most obviously, in his genuinely magnificent eyes — Nico has seen the Logan Sapphire. He has touched the precious thing with reverent hands, stared in awe as it thrust out the light shine upon it like the golden ichor of Ouranous swirling with the sweet saltwater to birth Love Incarnate. He knows glittering, he knows gleaming, shimmering and shining and twinkling.

Will’s eyes sparkle, like the very tip of a mountaintop, like the crackling ends of a flame, like dewdrops on spider silk. It is transfixing. It is alluring.

“—ico. Nico! Hello-o?”

It is also a trap.

“Sounds great,” Nico says loudly, voice like cold soda over vanilla ice cream. He clears his throat, twice, to no avail. His vision begins to blur as the heat pouring off of his face warps the air. “Um. See you then?”

Will nods, or at least Nico hopes he does. His curls bounce, anyway. They are hard to miss. They remind Nico tangentially of how laughter sounds, unimpeded by shame; how the shimmering satin of a ribbon would curl and bend under the smooth slide of the scissor’s blade.

(His father’s circuit of jesters often included poets playwrights. They also doubled as Nico’s babysitters. Surely no lasting consequences, that.)

“Yes!” He flashes a smile, then, and it becomes imperative to note that his eyes squint at the force of it, and his slightly-too-big teeth brush his bottom lip, and he has, in fact, on each cheek, a dimple.

Now, Will is often and even frequently called Apollo Junior by just about every living soul in camp, up to and including Immortal Camp Director And Horse, Chiron; and uproariously once even Mr D, God of Wine. Allegedly, as taunted by Kayla, even by Will’s own mother. The golden hair and unfortunate habit of winking and legs for days do most definitely create an image.

Nico, however, contrarian he be, must deny: he has seen Apollo. Apollo is beautiful and golden and charming, but Will is not quite his spitting image. Will, more aptly, is the son of the Sun. He glows; the glare of his smile leaves impressions behind in the cells one’s eyes, the glide of his limbs is almost dragging, languid. To look at him is to commit yourself to blinding. To seek so desperately the solace of the light as to ignore the unsettling sting of the burn.

“I can’t wait!”

As a blissful cloud moving in front of the solar system’s brightest star saves your eyes the eternal fate of darkness, Will’s duty so saves Nico from an eternity of shadow. He returns, humming softly and horribly, to his work, sifting through folders and updating patient files, and Nico exhales the breath setting foundations in his lungs, slumping forward in fervent relief. A melancholic reprieve from the summer rays, if only for a moment.

He waves goodbye, or at least he hopes that he does, rushing out the infirmary doors and tripping down the rickety porch steps.

“Hurrying somewhere, Nicholas Claus?” drawls Mr. D, throwing darts a perilously balanced apple atop the horns of a satyr bleating in morse code.

“That was not even an attempt,” responds Nico, and hurries away before he can be dolphinized. Dolphinified? Made into a bottle-nosed beast. (Why bottle? Of all comparisons to make, who decided bottles were the utmost separate object to which the snout of the slippery beasts should be named? Oh, wait, drunk people. Bottles. Okay. Mystery solved.)

He manages, in his heroic retreat across the common, not to destroy entire swathes of grass and plants, a feat for which the Muses could perhaps write epics about. Truly he is capable of the utmost restraint and self-control. He does raise several full sized wolf skeletons, but they seem primarily preoccupied with hunting down the the Stolls, so a win-win as far as Nico is concerned. Probably not for Connor, who is apparently cursed or concussed, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he has managed thus far with his startling amount of daily braincell loss so by statistic and happenstance he is bound to survive another incident.

“There has to be away to shut myself off,” Nico says, out loud to himself, proceeding the slam of his cabin door and the heavy breathing upon it. He turns to his altar. “You mentioned an off button, Father. I don’t suppose it has been successfully implemented.”

No answer comes forth. He indulges in a brief moment of self pity, wherein the Nico who lives in his brain clears his throat, digs around the messy confines of his mind to find an imaginary black hoodie, slips it on, digs around again for a dagger, and stabs himself, choking and twitching pitifully. Real Nico then walks with great purpose to the exact geological centre of the stone cabin.

“Okay,” he says again. He nods, once, narrowing his eyes in determination. The Nico in his brain opens one curious eyelid. (Does Will do psychiatric assessments?) “Okay, this is. Hm.”

It is not the first time they have been alone together, after all.

In the weeks following Gaea’s defeat and Will Solace’s nonstop, irritating persistence, Nico has been thrust in his proximity an incredible number of times. From his three day stay, during which he was simply so unconscious for so long his father was concerned enough to manifest onto the mortal plane and poke at his soul until he responded, to his unofficial indoctrination (ha) as a nurse, to camp clean-up efforts, to cabin renovation, to general life — they have become friends. Coworkers, at least. Together they make the camp a little more bearable for everyone in it, including Nico. It is rewarding work. It is illuminating work; Will is a good teacher, and he is funny, and he is good company (and he happens to have very long legs that he does not bother to cover up very often and Nico has eyes that do what they please). They have been in Nico’s cabin together several times over the last few weeks.

Never before has Will come over without some kind of stated purpose.

At least, not and absence he has made so obvious. True, the renovations took longer than expected, and the paint on the east wall is smudged from where Nico shoved Will, shrieking, off the stepstool, and they have perhaps, on occasion, used Nico’s illegal Wii when they were meant to be helping Annabeth make plans for Capture the Flag, but —

But.

Intent.

Is important.

It has been made abundantly clear to Nico over the summer that he has friends upon which he can rely. Reyna has made a point to Iris Message him at whatever Roman tryhard time she believes he should be awake, prompting an attempted murderous shadow travel that left him unconcious in Missouri and at the unfortunate end of many people’s shouting. And Will’s friends, who can perhaps at this point be called his friends also, have created a game entitled “How Many Grapes Can We Flick At Nico During Lunch Before He Goes Ballistic And Sends Us To Purgatory For A Little While” (four), which they are inclined and inspired to play every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Piper enjoys dragging him around to do Things. Jason is just around constantly. (Does he sleep? Nico should check on that properly.)

He had a point, somewhere. He’s sure he did.

It was maybe the impending anxiety attack, helpfully informs Brain Nico.

“Ah,” regular Nico replies, then grapples around for his least favourite pillow, slams it into his face, and screams at the top of his lungs for several minutes.

Brain Nico decides once again that commentary is the way.

I think we are an all powerful demigod of something, he muses. Dirt, maybe? Bad vibes? I can’t quite remember.

“The dead?” inquires regular Nico.

Do you think those years isolated in the Labyrinth perhaps situated us firmly on the shores of mentally unwell? responds he, blissfully unhelpful.

“I think that was Tartarus, actually,” says regular Nico, and promptly banishes his brain self to the deepest recesses of his mind, among memories of the taste of liquid fire and Calculus.

With the remaining, functioning (well.) part of his brain, he places both palms on the cool floor and attempts to focus.

Juicy Fruit It gets right to ya Juicy salt Hmmm Juicy Fruit, The taste the taste that’s —

For the love of all holy things, Nico begs his brain. It doesn’t work, but what ever really goes right in his life, so he pushes past the increasingly louder replays of eighties commercial jingles and maps out the ground below the cabin floor, pushes through the layers of underground.

Ah. Perfect.

He pulls up the very aptly placed skeleton of a cat, letting it scratch and sniff about his cabin before cautiously approaching him.

“You will be sure to tell it to me straight,” Nico says solemnly, holding out his hand. The cat bobs its nasal cavities in and out of Nico’s fingers and, apparently deciding him to be worthy of its attention, rams its skull against his knuckles. Nico snorts, running a fingernail along its cranial sutures and grinning as its purring echoes in his mind. “You seem very wise.”

The cat’s caudal vertebrae rattle in indignation, miffed at the mere idea that it could be anything other than wise. Nico is honestly quite impressed by its ability to glare without actual eyeballs, eyelids, or thought power.

“I am going to name you after my sister and pray that’s not weird,” Nico says. “I mean, I don’t think she would mind. You’re pretty cool, actually, and Hazel’s cool, kind of, so. Win win.”

Hazel the Cat seems unbothered by her christening, curling up in Nico’s lap. He runs his hand from cranial base to coccyx, finger dipping and bumping along the ridges of her spines, and settles against the cool floor, attempting to breathe evenly.

“It’s just.” He swallows. It takes a try or two, to work around the massive stone borrowed in his throat, and Hazel the Cat nips playfully at his fingers until his lungs settle again. “Before we had something to do, you know? We’d be cutting bandages, and he’d be all, hey, did you know bandages are mentioned in one of the first ever medical manuscripts and definitely predate it by many hundreds of years, and I would say I did, actually, I talked to the guy who made that clay tablet, and his eyes would get all wide and he’d be like no way, tell me everything, and then I would just talk forever.” Nico huffs. “We had something to talk about, you understand. Something to do.”

Nico tries to imagine what Hazel his Sister would say. Probably something along the lines of you are an impossible person, which is code for I have about as much luck as you do in this century, pal, the best I’ve got is hope for the best and remember adults no longer smack you for standing wrong. Which. Fair.

Hazel the Cat just purrs in his head again. It’s as encouraging as anything, he supposes.

“Am I supposed to have…conversation starters? He likes twizzlers and intentionally bad poetry. Maybe I could do something with that?”

Hazel the Cat shrugs at him.

“It’s not even — okay, it’s not just that, though. What is — how close is close enough in a casual setting? Or too close? How am I meant to greet him? Am I supposed to offer something? Make something? What do I do if there’s a lull in conversation? Or if it’s all lulls? Oh, gods, how much silence is socially appropriate —”

Hazel the Cat twists in his hold, meeting his eyes as if to say well I don’t think you’ll be struggling with that last one.

“Shush,” he tells her, but his mouth is twitching. “I’m just — I don’t want him to finally realize I’m weird. Or boring, gods. He’s such a hyper person, you know? He never stops. And I am supposed to entertain him! I think!”

This time he can actually hear his sister’s voice, in the back of his mind — you’re such a dummy. Ringed with fondness from the many times she’s said it to him, shoulders nudged carefully together, head knocked gently against his. You are weird and boring. Most people are.

“Ugh,” he sighs, tipping his head back until it rests against the mattress. “Friendship is hard work.”

Hazel the Cat swishes her tail, rattling the discs of bone like a rattlesnake. It’s a surprisingly soothing sound, like rain pinging softly against his window, or the flutter of the poplar trees outside of his father’s palace. Unconsciously he matches his breathing to it, slowing until it’s even, gentle, deep. His eyes, without any direction from his brain, drift until they blanket his hazy eyes, heavy as stone..

“S’not that serious,” he murmurs to himself, soothed under the weight of his feline friend. “S’just Will, I guess.” A beat. He smiles, slightly, a small, curling thing, mimicking the coiled heat in his belly. “It’s just Will.”

———

part two

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝕴𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊

Sean Anderson x gender neutral reader

Summary: you feel insicure and out of place inside of this group of people and Sean does all that he can to express to you how much wrong you are.

It’s so sad that there are no fics for him :(. I felt the need to write one for him considering he is the first one I watched. He is so underrated.

Warnings: no pronouns used for reader. Insecure reader. Best friends to lovers. Soft smut. Soft dom Sean. Sean and reader are 18+ in this one.

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows on the ancient trees that surrounded us. The mysterious island had drawn all of you together. You sat cross-legged on a rough-hewn log, your fingers tracing patterns in the dirt as you listened to the crackling sound of the campfire.

Sean sat beside you. His eyes were fixed on the flames, their golden glow reflecting in his eyes. Sean was brilliant, his mind a labyrinth of knowledge and curiosity. You’ve always admired his intelligence, the way he dives headfirst into puzzles and riddles. But lately, there’s something more, a warmth that settles in your chest when he smiles, a flutter when his hand brushes against yours.

He'd been the one to decipher the code that led us here, and now, with his ankle wrapped in makeshift bandages, he leaned heavily against your shoulder. His pain was etched in the lines around his eyes, but he refused to complain.

Hank, Sean's stepfather, knelt by the fire, tending to the flames. His hands were gnarled from years of hard work, but they moved with a gentle grace as he adjusted the logs.

When Sean had twisted his ankle on the treacherous path, Hank had popped it back into place without hesitation. They never got along that well, but you could see both of them slowly warming up to each other’s.

Now, he strummed a ukulele, its sweet notes weaving through the night air while he tried to cheer him up. The melody was haunting, a balm for your weary souls. You don’t know if Sean felt the same way, however, as he pressed his face on your shoulder, groaning from embarrassment as you laughed together with Hank.

Gabato, the stranger who'd washed ashore with you, Sean and Hank, sat across from Hank. His skin was bronzed by the sun, and he looked deep in thoughts.

Then there was Kailani, Gabato's daughter. She perched on a moss-covered rock, her dark hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders.

She was everything you weren’t: bold, beautiful, and unafraid.

Kailani's fingers brushed Sean's as she reached for a piece of fruit, and your heart clenched.

You and Sean had always been close. He was a mix of handsome and nerdy, the kind of person who could talk no stop about something for hours only to stutter an excuse for annoying who was around him.

You had been there, by his side, helping him, supporting him. Hank had even mistaken you for a couple at first, which had left both of you blushing and stammering awkward denials.

Despite your close bond, tonight, you felt out of place, a shadow among these vibrant people.

The conversation around the fire blurred into a background hum as you retreated into your thoughts. You couldn't help but compare yourself to Kailani. She seemed perfect for Sean: adventurous, beautiful, and able to match his curiosity and excitement for the unknown. What did you have to offer in comparison?

You see the way Sean looks at her: admiration mixed with something deeper.

You glanced down at your entwined hands, a gesture that you two made without even realizing it many times but that you now have become accustomed to it.

Sean's grip was warm and steady, but you felt the weight of inadequacy. What did you have to offer in this strange company? You weren’t brilliant like Sean or strong like Hank. You couldn't spin tales that made everyone laugh like Gabato or beautiful like Kailani. You were just the quiet observer, the outsider.

Sean deserve someone who could match his intellect, who could share his passion for unraveling mysteries.

His gaze lingered on you face.

“You’re okay?” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly on my hand.

You forced a smile. “Yeah, just tired.”

His eyes narrowed, and you knew he saw through my lie. But he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned back against the log, his expression thoughtful.

“Hmm.” Sean’s voice held a hint of skepticism. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Yes, I know”

Then Sean squeezed your hand, and you looked into his eyes. They held warmth, understanding. You blinked back tears, your heart swelling.

⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈

The night was a velvet shroud, cradling the island in its cool embrace. The fire had dwindled to a mere whisper of its former glory, and the forest rustled with secrets. Everyone else slept, their breaths soft and even, but your mind churned like the restless waves beyond the shore.

You laid on your makeshift bed of leaves and moss, staring up at the canopy of stars. Sean's breathing was steady beside your, his face relaxed in slumber. But you couldn't find rest. The weight of your insecurities pressed down, threatening to suffocate you.

And then, as if sensing your turmoil, Sean stirred. His fingers brushed your cheek, gentle as moonlight. He murmured your name softly, his voice a fragile thread. "Are you awake?"

The night air was cool, carrying whispers of pine and moss. Sean stood up from his position, his expression both nervous and determined. You blinked at him, your heart doing a clumsy pirouette.

“Hey” he said, his voice soft yet resolute. He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Do you want to take a walk? Get some fresh air?"

He chose you and not her

You started to get up from your position. “Where?” Your heart was beating faster the more your brain started to understand the intimacy of the situation.

Sean’s eyes sparkled. “Deep into the woods,” he said. “I found a spot earlier where I saw something beautiful that I wanted to show you”

He stood before you, his hand outstretched, inviting you into the unknown.

“But your leg,” you blurted out, noticing his leg free from the bandages you used on him.

He waved off my concern. “It’s fine now. Hank worked his magic. I feel hardly any pain now. Besides, I want to show you something.”

Your heart fluttered. He wanted to share a secret with me. You pushed aside your insecurities and took his hand.

Outside, the forest enveloped you two. The moon peeked through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. Sean led you deeper, his steps sure. You stumbled once, but he caught you, his touch warm and steady.

“Where are we going?” You asked again, voice barely audible.

Sean's eyes sparkled, and he pressed a finger to his lips, urging silence. You were like two conspirators, sneaking out for a midnight rendezvous.

As you ventured deeper into the woods, Sean's steps were catlike,each one calculated to avoid twigs and fallen leaves. You tried to mimic his stealth, but your foot caught on a stubborn root, and you stumbled. Sean caught you, his lips curving into a half-smile.

"Graceful," he teased, and you swatted his arm playfully. "You're lucky a giant lizard didn't hear that."

You shuddered, remembering this morning's close encounter. In a way it made Sean remember that close encounter he had with that dinosaur when he was alone in the center of the earth, a story that you loved to hear from him from time to time and that he loved to tell you whenever you asked.

You were so cute to him whenever you showed curiosity towards him.

And now, in the heart of the forest, Sean stopped. His gaze fixed on a cluster of vibrant blue. Butterflies, dozens of them, flitted among the ferns, their wings shimmering like shards of sky.

"Look," he said, his voice hushed. "They're like living gems."

You watched, mesmerized, as the butterflies danced. Their flight was erratic yet purposeful, weaving intricate patterns in the moonlight. One landed on your outstretched palm, its wings brushing your skin. You held it gently, your eyes alight with wonder.

You reached out, your fingertip grazing the butterfly's iridescent wing. "They're breathtaking."

Sean leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "You know what else is breathtaking?" he murmured. "You."

Your heart stuttered. "Me?"

"I've always liked you. More than liked you. Given the place where we ended up thanks to me I thought it would be better to tell you.“

"But Kailani—" You begin, your voice faltering.

His gaze lingering on your face. His fingers brushing yours.

“Is that why you’ve been quiet tonight?” he said softly.

Your gaze dropped to the ground, unable to look him in the eyes “I just… I feel inadequate sometimes.”

“Inadequate?” Sean’s voice held a mix of confusion and concern.

You nodded, your throat tight. “Yeah. Like a ghost that nobody notices” His thumb brushed your knuckles. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re amazing, Sean. You’re smart, funny, and everyone loves you. And then there’s me, just ordinary.”

His laughter was soft, a gentle melody. “Ordinary? You’re extraordinary.”

You scoffed. “Right. I’m not as smart or outgoing as you. I stumble over my words, and I’m not exactly the life of the party.”

“You don’t need to be.” His eyes held mine. “You’re enough. More than enough.”

You leaned into his palm, your heart aching with gratitude. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you listened when I kept rambling about that coded signal my grandfather left. You remember all the time that we spent together trying to decipher it? You always cheered me up when I was about to give up from frustration. You notice the little things like the way I take my coffee, the songs that make me smile. And you make the best hot chocolate on chilly nights.”

“That’s just—”

“No, it’s not ‘just.’ It’s everything.” His lips brushed mine, a soft promise. “You’re my anchor. The one who I want to be with all the time”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I love you, Sean.”

“And I love you.” He ducks to kiss you. It's gentle and sweet and romantic, a kiss that tasted of moonbeams and promises. His mouth moved against yours, gentle yet urgent. It was a kiss that held all the words you needed to hear, the reassurance, the longing, the desire to banish your insecurities.

He nudges you to walk backwards until your back hits a tree. Your lips remained sealed in this kiss that was tentative at first but grew deeper and more fervent. Sean's hands moved to cradle your face gently, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, fueled by a passionate urgency. The wild world around you completely vanished, leaving you two enveloped in your own cocoon of warmth and longing.

Sean trailed kisses down your neck, and sucked on a sweet spot which caused you to let out the sweetest moans Sean has ever heard.

"Tonight's all about you”

Sean loved the way you gasped, the way your fingers curled in his shirt as you pressed yourself into him, hips dragging down onto him.

Your laughter, your scent, the feel of your hand on his upper arm, he had become utterly smitten with you and he knew there was no turning back, nor did he want to.

Lips seeking skin, tongue flicking out to pull little gasps from your lips. Soft and yielding as he pressed between your legs, pulling them around his waist. His name torn from your lips as he whispered against them, “precious, wonderful, so good,” he moved slowly, taking his time as he told you just how good you felt.

Loved slowly exploring your body with his, finding new ways to make you gasp his name, new ways that would cause you to arch into him, dragging him closer, his curiosity was insatiable.

As he started pushing in, your eyes filled with tears, of love and euphoria. You whimpered from the intrusion and he just kissed you sweetly to distract you from the pain. Sean noticed the wetness flowing down your cheeks, and kissed them lovingly.

Heat rose to your cheeks, you moved a hand covering your face, stifling an embarrassed chuckle. Sean tutted, pulling your hand away and pressing his lips against yours, hips never ceasing as he felt you tighten around him.

Gods, he was addicted to your small whimpers, the taste of you, all of you.

He smiled, hand catching your jaw, “ready?” you nodded, the coil in your belly tightening, snapping as he went in harder, faster.

It ended like this, you first with him losing his rhythm, driving into you until he let out a groan that he suppressed by biting his face in your neck.

“I love you.” He grinned as you responded with giggles, the sound that always made his heart flutter.

Thank you for reading and for all the likes on my other stories <3

[onskepa]

Hi, could I get a fic where the Sully kids + Spider learn through Norm what a wedding is so they organize one for Jake and Neytiri? Thanks in advance.

Ask and you shall recieve! This is such a cuuuuuuuuuuute idea~!! Hope you and everyone likes it! Enjoy~!!

P.S: Cover was done by none other than @jakexneytiri check her page out! Thank you darling for giving me permission to use your art!

---------------------

A wedding? A wedding!!!

Tuk sighs dreamily as she twirls and admires a flower kiri picked for her. Admiring the pretty color as how the sunlight reflects it. It somehow reminds her of her parents' love story, how they met and how they mated. In na’vi standards, it was not ideal but to tuk, it was perfect. Forbidden love? How tragic and romantic! 

Of course she has seen a few small handful of na’vi courting, and heard stories of her friends' parents' romantic paths. Yet she cannot help but wonder, do humans court the way na’vi do? Or is it different? Only one way to find out!

“Tuk, for the last time, I may be human, but that doesnt mean I know every human custom” spider patiently explains to a happy little tuk. Her tail sways in hopes she can  gather as much information as possible. Even with spider’s lack of knowledge, she doesn't give up! 

“What about uncle norm? He is from Earth, maybe he knows” tuk suggests. 

Spider nods in wonder, slightly agreeing. But then he turns back to her, “why are you interested in human customs all of a sudden?” he asks. Tuk isn't one to search for anything human related, she is fine with what little she is exposed to.  

With a happy smile, all too pleased to be asked that question. 

“I know all about na’vi courting, but I wanna know about human courting! Mom and dad didn't do either, so I wanna know!” 

Shrugging, spider seems to see her point of view. 

“Alright, lets go ask uncle norm” 

“I'm busy” Norman says without looking at the kids. They give him an unimpressed look. 

“Reading star wars comics for the millionth time doesnt count uncle norm” lo’ak says deadpanned. Norman stayed silent for a few seconds before putting his comic away. 

“What did spider or tuk eat this time?” he asks with a tired sigh. Both spider and tuk gave him a rather offended/surprised expression. 

“WOW, you really take us for a couple of skxawngs?” spider asks, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Sharing jake’s single braincell, yes” 

“Whatever, we didn't eat anything mysterious, yet, but, tuk wanted to ask you something and now we all wanna know” spider defends while slightly pushing tuk forward. 

Having norm’s full attention, tuk finally asks “How do humans court each other?” 

norm ‘s shoulders deflated a bit, “of all people to ask, you had to choose the most single, and lonely human” 

“Wedding? And the females wear white while the males wear black?” tuk asks as she sees some wedding photos lended by scientists who were married. Norm nods, “thats right. Of course not all weddings are like that, it is traditional but many choose other colors for their weddings” he adds. 

Tuk looks at the various photos of brides, many in odd looking clothing. But all were so beautiful. Different long dresses, each unique to their own. Various flowers tuk has never seen before, and the grooms were also handsome. Wearing similar outfits but also in different styles. The more tuk learned about the concept of weddings, the more she began to form an idea. 

“So, man and woman plan a wedding, woman finds a pretty dress to wear, walks down the tiny path to meet her mate, they kiss and marry right?” she reviews, norm nods again. Sensing something is up. 

“Yes….” 

“What are you thinking about tuktuk?” Kiri asks. 

A mischievous little grin forms on tuk’s face. Her eyes sparkling with a devious glow. The expression reminds norm of the Grinch when he has a grand scheme.

Taking the day easy, jake and neytiri hold hands happily as they make their way to the village. They had a rare free day to themselves. No duties to attend to, no training, no meetings, no chasing their kids from death related troubles. None. They were free to do as they like. 

And what they wanted to do for now was stroll in the village, perhaps collect a bit of fruit. Maybe later hunt for a delicious dinner neytiri has in mind. So many possibilities. 

But….

“Woa, is it just me or are the people acting strange?” Jake asks, He and neytiri notice the odd behavior of the people. Many give them happy smiles, way too excited greetings, some even offer special gifts! 

“Is there something we missed?” Jake wonders. Neytiri tries to remember but nothing seems to remind her. 

As they walk further, there was a huddle of na’vi, all their eyes and ears facing the same direction. Jake and neytiri make their way through, and see someone giving them instructions….

“And look for white flowers! Anything will do, oh and those beads will do so nicely! Yes yes, and take the woven clothes over there! That path must be super pretty!” 

It was tuk. 

And she was giving directions to everyone like a tiny, cute boss. 

“Tuk?” Neytiri calls out in confusion. 

Her little one heard her, smiling, tuk makes her way to her parents with a happy squeal.

“Hey babygirl, what's going on?” Jake asks as he picks her up in his arms. Tuk just giggles and snuggles up to him. 

“Planning your wedding! Duh!” she responds as if that was the most obvious thing. 

“Wedding? What?” There were a lot of things going through his mind. 

Neytiri was just as confused. 

“What is a wedding?” she asks. But before tuk can happily answer, the rest of their children returns. With arms full of things. 

“Ok tuk, took us forever but we got what you needed” lo’ak said with a tired sigh. He, neteyam, kiri and spider were holding flowers, beads, baskets full of white colored cloths, and black paint. 

“Kids, what is going on?” Jake asks, more eager to know the answer. Because nothing is making any sense to him. 

“Tuk wants to make a special wedding for you guys” kiri replies as she shows tuk her findings, who nods in approval. 

“What is a wedding??” Neytiri asks a bit loudly. 

Tuk clears her voice, “a wedding is a special mating ceremony for humans. They decorate everything so pretty in white! The female wears a special gown called a wedding dress, and she walks down a flower covered path to meet her mate at the end. Where someone who holds spiritual power blesses them, the mates speak their vows and promises and kiss! Uncle norm showed me!” 

The little smiled so proudly of this knowledge being shared. 

Jake inwardly groans. Damn norm. 

“Tuk, sweetie, is that why are you doing this?” he asks another question. Tuk just rapidly nods. 

“A wedding….” Neytiri repeats, still trying to wrap her head around the idea. 

The sully family returned to their home in need of a family meeting. 

“Why…?” she asks. 

Tuk plays with her fingers, feeling more nervous by the second. 

“Well…..you and daddy tell your love story all the time. How you guys met and stuff. But you never really did any courting like everyone else. Grandma says that courting is very important, to see if the relationship is possible. I thought a wedding would be nice for you two….cause you never courted…” she explained her reason. 

Neteyam was sitting behind her, rubbing her back to sooth her. 

There were many things to go over of what she said. Jake brings tuk over to his lap, releasing a deep sigh. 

“Am I in trouble” Tuk asks worriedly. Both of her parents shake their heads. 

“No baby girl, but you can't do things like this without telling us. Or even asking, how are you sure we wanted this?” Jake pointed out as gently as he could. 

Neytiri turns her head towards her oldest four, “and all of you for not stopping her”. 

“We also thought it was a good idea…” neteyam answers while scratching the back of his head. 

“When uncle norm taught us how humans courted, tuk wasn't the only one to like the idea. And it is true what she says mom. You two never really had the chance to do it right. Why not now?” Kiri tries with calmness in her voice. Knowing her mother is very short tempered when it comes to anything human related. 

Neytiri and jake look at each other, a special communication between them. 

“You did take me straight to the tree after my trials were finished….” jake reasoned. Neytiri rolls her eyes but fondly remembers that night. Yes, she did, she was not going to let him slip away now could she? 

And there really was no room for courting since the war started literally the next day.

Going over her options, Neytiri turns to tuk and jake. 

“How does human courting work…?” 

Whatever pace the people were working at, doubled. By either prayers, or some miracle of Eywa, neytiri accepted to wed in the human custom. Tuk wasted no time and needed back up from the help of uncle norm. Who became her second in command in all of the organization. 

Her siblings become her little servants, repeating her orders to the people. 

And someone had a big role to play. 

“Come ma’ite, we must get you fitted” mo’at say with a bright smile on her face. Gently she tugs neytiri to her hut, kiri and other fellow na’vi woman takes her away. 

“Fitted for what?” neytiri asks, feeling a bit excited for whatever is to come. 

“For your wedding dress mom” kiri replies. Closing the flaps of the hut, the ladies began to work their magic. 

While on the other side, jake was being taken to a different hut, being led by his three sons. 

“Seriously?” jake says while raising an eyebrow. 

“Tuk’s orders” lo’ak grins a bit smugly. 

A few handful of Jake's friends entered the hut with him, with preparations of getting him ready. 

“Oh, and dont forget to write your vows!” spider reminds as he snaps fingers in remembering what tuk told him. 

“My vows?” 

“This is going to take awhile” 

“Oh yeah, its all coming together” tuk says, pride grows in her little heart as the wedding decorations and the set up is nearly completed. 

Norm was beside her, whistling impressed. “Gotta hand it to you tuk, you do know how to design” he compliments. This makes little tuk humph with glee. 

They were at the spirit tree, white veils, flowers, the Atokrinia’s floating around elegantly. Her image displayed ever so perfectly. 

“Ok, it's all set tuk!” lo’ak says as he with kiri, spider and neteyam arrive. 

“Good! So we are good to go!” 

“Almost” kiri teases. 

“We just need one more thing” neteyam smiles, but tuk was panicking a little. 

“Did we forget something? It's the bells, isn't it? Dang it I should have-” she was interrupted mid sentence when she felt something land on her head. 

Looking at what it was, it was a flower crown. 

“A wedding isn't complete without a flower girl” spider says. Gasping in happiness and surprised, tuk shouts in great joy. 

“Come on, we still got time!” the three siblings drag tuk away to have her be the prettiest flower girl pandora has ever seen!

The flutes began to play, releasing harmonic sounds as the notes echoed to the people’s ears. Ninat taking the lead of the melodious choir, her voice and the others balance with the instruments. In tune to perfection. 

The Atokirina floating all around, giving the path a heavenly glow. 

The people sat anxiously, all in rows as they respectfully cleared one long path. 

A path the tuk carefully walks through as she delicately lays flower petals. A flower crown on her head, wearing the cutest light pink loin cloth and pearl like bead top. Tuk truly looked like a flower girl. Behind her was the bride. Her beautiful mother, The one where all eyes go to see. 

Neytiri walks gracefully on the path her daughter leads. Wearing an all white outfit, her loincloth, her top, her head piece, and the veil she wears. All white. Her hair braided loosely behind, flowers decorated on her hair as well. Neytiri never felt more beautiful than she did at this moment. With a bouquet of flowers she holds tightly, her eyes search for her mate. The love of her life, Jake. 

At the alter, at the root base of the spirit tree was Jake. In all of his might glower, wearing a black loin cloth as his warrior armor at the waist, his hair braided in the similar fashion he wore during the war. Feather and bead amended to the braids, and small black paint to enhance his handsomeness. Jake looked so good it made neytiri want to run towards his arms. 

As they reached the altar, tuk took her place beside kiri who was wearing a style similar to tuk. Neteyam, spider and lo’ak beside their father as they admire their mother. 

Jake offers his hand to which neytiri happily accepts. Removing the veil to reveal her beautiful face, jake could help but mutter “beautiful” in awe. Together they both turn to face mo’at who smiles with heavenly joy. 

“Welcome everyone. Today, we gather in great celebration to bring these two wonderful people into union. Through trials and tribulations, these two souls have been challenged time and time again. But their love has pulled them through. Proving to us all that love truly conquers all. That being with your true one, anything can be accomplished” 

mo’at gestures to Neytiri and Jake that it was time to say their vows. 

But as they speak, tuk listened as best as she could. Hearing her parents story over and over never waivered with time. If anything it only sounded better each time. And hearing their vows right before her big eyes, it was adding a whole new perspective. 

Yes, tuk is a sucker for romantic things. Even if her siblings tease her, tuk won't stop. And seeing this made her love romance even more. 

“And by the great blessing of our great mother Eywa, I can now happily announce, Jake and neytiri as husband and wife! You may now-” 

Neytiri didnt let her mother finish as she dragged Jake down to kiss him like her life depended on it. Jake happily reciprocates. 

The na’vi cheered in celebration. Applause, screeches, everything was heard. 

Tuk sighs dreamily as she sees her parents kiss. 

“I can't wait to get married” 

Kiri: “never” 

Spider: "nope"

Lo’ak: “not gonna happen” 

Neteyam: “over my dead body”

Okie so this kinda became a tuk main story but I like it how it turned out. What do you guys think? Until next time! See ya!

[bruhstation]

You seem like a Train Professional so where would one begin in order to get into the funny little talking train show?

these are all my own opinions so take it like a grain of salt -- the common go-to would be the thomas and friends tv show. start off from season 1 then work all your way up to the top (not actually really. you can skip some later seasons like s17 if you want to). the model seasons are considered to be some of the greatest because 1) they set the foundation of the cast (besides the railway series books) 2) they contain some of the most iconic scenes from the show like gordon's ronan kirk crash, the flying kipper accident, james and the shoelaces, etc and 3) they're the originals so you know what their personalities and relationships to their peers were like and how their characterization was supposed to be like before the cgi era flip flopped them up

also check out the railway series books in the meantime! the funny talking train show was based on the book series created by reverend awdry for his sick son! the first book feature edward, henry, and gordon. thomas appears in the second book. fast forward decades later and britt alcroft created a tv show called thomas the tank engine. there are many eras of the show, from models, to model/cgi hybrid, to computer animations where the show gets passed around like a volleyball from studio to studio

here's a google spreadsheet that contains all the thomas and friends episodes in various languages. feel free to watch the show for yourself and decide which seasons you like the most

some more of my thoughts under the cut

I recommend you steer clear of the big world big adventures seasons and specials because it's probably the most controversial seasons in the fandom. replacing two of the core cast members, "pandering" to certain audiences, putting in lackluster representation for the sake of selling toys, SAID representation turns out to be racist depictions, all of it reflected the current state of mattel when handling thomas and friends. they also didn't contribute anything to the overall show, like by the time the bwba seasons were out, people dgaf and just focused on the older seasons. you can ignore bwba and you won't miss anything important about ttte. not that I'm stopping you! you have your own free will.

the thing about ttte that made many adults get into it (if not for train autism) is how ttte was a show grounded in reality. idk if that makes sense but basically despite being a show about mean talking trains for little kids, reverend awdry and britt alcroft handled the characters with care. they gave the engines so much charm by making them bicker with each other like the cranky old engines they are BUT they're not reduced to singular personality traits too. thomas is cheeky and kind of a meanie but he wants to prove himself useful. edward is old and acts as a mentor to thomas but he also wants to show that he still got it despite his old age. gordon went from being a pompous grand young express engine to a humble old engine being a mentor to the newer ones and so on! they also put a lot of historical references related to the engines' basis too and tie their backstories in (henry's a stolen faulty design hence his cynical, miserable personality at the early seasons of the show). there's even irl engines mentioned in both the books and show (flying scotsman and city of truro) and it's just neat!!! because awdry cares about history so much!!!! that he even made an "encyclopedia" about sodor, its railways, and its history

the books and the earlier seasons of ttte didn't shy away from themes of death and usefulness and all that (the story of godred, henry being a faulty engine and getting cask of amontillado'd for being uncooperative, all of gordon's siblings scrapped sans flying scotsman) because the thing about them being engines are important to them. it's their reison d'etre. they get scrapped if they cannot be of use anymore, because that's how things have always been. they get into accidents often because their ego got to them. dieselization is starting on the island of sodor and the diesels are asserting their dominance over the oldschool steam engines. the engines just exist there. they just happen to have faces and talk. idk. I think it's interesting how they view life a bit differently than humans. thank you for listening to my ramble

[itzrafee]

A thing on Uran and Helena in Pluto

Okay a short little thing on Pluto. Uran and Helena are my absolute favourite characters in Pluto. Urasawa has always had amazing side characters, from Mr. Rosso in Monster to Lee Harvey Oswald and Jackie in Billy Bat to God in 20th Century Boys, but very few have tied off the emotional ends of the story like Uran and Helena.

Maybe I'm projecting here but much like myself I feel like Urasawa is absolutely obsessed with Frankenstein. And he recognizes the influence Frankenstein has on Dr. Umataro Tenma. Or at the very least, the similarities between the two. And so when he made the protagonist of one of his most popular works Monster, Dr Kenzo Tenma, he solidified that connection. Kenzo Tenma calls back to Victor Frankenstein needing to end his creation while also calling back to Japan's other famous Tenma, thus making the connection explicit. Another throughline between the three of them is that all three are father figures to their creations and have obligations to their children, though all three have varying levels of success with them.

I've only read what I like to call Urasawa's "Core Four", conspiracy minded thrillers that are essentially road trips featuring usually two main protagonists that we see the world through, Monster, 20th Century Boys, Pluto and Billy Bat. Though I still haven't caught up to Asadora and that could still possibly fit this mold, Urasawa's Core Four share a lot of themes and ideas. One of the most important being the responsibility for one's creations, whether it was Kenji Endo and the Book of Prophecy or Kevin Yamagata and Billy Bat or Dr. Kenzo Tenma and Johan, all of his protagonists could arguably be seen as someone with the need to take up the responsibility of their creations. So where do the protagonists of Pluto fit in there? That's where Uran and Helena come in.

But first, we should take a look at Pluto's themes. While I could be wrong, at a cursory glance, I feel like the general consensus towards it's themes is that it's about hatred. I don't really think that's what it is as I feel like Urasawa is more trying to show us what it is to be human and what it is to be alive. And in that, he has a hidden protagonist in Pluto. Someone who's influence snakes through the plot and isn't seen much, but without who the story's themes would remain incomplete. Pluto tackles what it is to be alive through many things, such as memory, sadness, grief, hatred, love and parenthood. But none of that works without the realization by Tenma of his own mistakes. And Uran and Helena bookend these revelations and are absolutley key to understanding that.

In my favourite chapter of the series, Chapter 37, Uran goes from person to person as she finds a way to deal with her grief and eventually comes across Tobio's grave, Tenma having left recently. It's an absolutely beautiful chapter that shows Uran's humanity and Urasawa's love for sharing these kind and soft moments. But it also sheds a light on Tenma as Uran realizes someone who was grieving has just left. Without saying much at all we realize that Tenma has finally realized his mistakes. In the process of grieving one son, he lost the other. While remembering Tobio, he let Atom go. His grief towards Tobio is clear in the following chapter, Chapter 38. All of the things he wanted Atom to be; Tobio come back to life, Tobio's ghost punishing him, Atom rejected. And Tenma could only see that rejection, and not what he had, another son.

Uran shows us very clearly what Pluto, the story, is. It's a chapter in their lives. And we've come into a story nearing the end for Tenma. And it's through the humanity of two absolutely amazing characters in their own right, Uran and Helena, that we are able to so fully understand Tenma. Despite being robots, these two characters are the most alive of everyone. They love fully and freely and are catalysts of change. Uran's vibrant and full of life in a way that really sticks out. And Helena has such depth that it's evident in every scene she's in. She's not pointed out to be made by any famous scientist so all the life she has is her own. These two represent the life of robot's more than any other characters in the series.

So it's that much more poignant when Helena finally breaks down after putting on such a strong front of everybody. Grief intersects and she brings out Tenma's sadness as well. They've both been putting up such strong fronts that it's heartbreaking to see them collapse. It completes Tenma's growth and strikes a heartbreaking contrast between the two. Tenma became the way he is through the loss of his son whereas Helena doesn't even get to remember her own loss. It makes you wonder if the grief for her and Geischt's child compounds her sorrow too.

Without these two and their grief, a large part of Pluto becomes inaccessible. Pluto is largely about death so when two characters come in who've never had a hand in the grim work of taking life, you see the world through a lens that's absolutely crucial in order to fully connect with all of the character's and their situations. Death and Grief has scarred the characters in Pluto. Time and time again they've chosen the worst path. They've chosen revenge and hatred. But Uran and Helena are different. Without them, the story is incomplete. They provide an alternative. They provide the path towards healing.

im sorry for this one:

[dent-de-leon]

Still having so many thoughts about all the parallels between Molly/Lucien's souls and Opal/Ted's--

The way Opal and Ted were split apart and then became one again as a natural part of growing up; raised with this other half of their soul always by their side, learning from each other and through each other. It's a family tradition, their way of life. Worshippers of the Luxon willingly letting their souls drift apart and reform, an inherited legacy that has shaped their whole understanding of the world and themselves.

The way Lucien and Molly never had a choice; the violent violation of autonomy as their soul was torn apart and shredded to pieces, the agony of feeling so alone in the world, your very heart hallowed out and Empty. It's not a gradual, gentle transition of the spirit--it's losing your very sense of self, all these pieces of you burned away.

And it hurts them, both of them. The shard of a soul that would be Molly--young and foolish, so new to the world and yet already so scarred by it. A spirit that hasn't broken yet, in spite of how harsh and cruel the world is--in spite of all the pain he's inherited. Lucien as the ghastly specter haunting Molly's worst nightmares, the shadow always hanging over him.

Lucien's disdain for this "forgotten fragment"--how bitterly he resents Mollymauk for not having to bear the weight of all their most painful memories, his hands not yet stained with blood--the part of him that got to be free. Lucien refusing to call Molly by his name, to admit this other part of himself is real--that maybe Lucien's always known he hasn't felt whole, that someone carved out this piece of his heart long ago.

When the two meet, Molly can't help reaching out to Lucien. Can't help but try and save him. Molly growing to care for this other half of his soul, this other broken, shattered shard of a bleeding heart. Molly refusing to abandon him, staying by his side until Lucien is finally ready to reach back. Both of them learning to accept each other, understand each other. A kind of self love. A soul that mirrors your very own, makes you feel grounded and whole.

Thinking of Ted fighting so fiercely for Opal. Giving everything to defend her, even as Opal tries so desperately to keep her grounded and tethered. Thinking of Molly pleading for Lucien to stop, just walk away--save their friends and save himself. It's not too late, he doesn't have to do this. He doesn't have to be this.

Thinking of the Luxon and shattered souls that aren't bound by life or death, time or space. A part of yourself you never really lose, no matter who tries to tear them away--

[kazamajun]

considering how "heavy sleepers" (wink wink) kaz and jun are, i bet if both were around to raise jin, they wouldve enacted that "Your son is awake"/"before sunrise, hes your son" scene from the lion king

@scalproie omg yes I love that scene so much and smol Jin totally would be having those Simba-levels of energy haha. 100% cosigned!!

I really do think that given the chance to raise Jin together they would've been a very 'normal' couple despite both being such extraordinary people, and can definitely envision little moments like this. Something about how their energies mesh just feels like they would have a low-drama relationship, perfectly content to be in their own little bubble with each other. Maybe it's the introvert vibes they both give off, or how heavily they complement each other in ways that nobody else could match and that speak to the potential of deep mutual understanding.

[theweirderofthetwo]

Wanna feel sad?

This is the attitude aviators in general have towards Laurence and Temeraire one(1) day before the treason:

”Captains can choose whom they like; that has always been the way of it,” Jane said, ”but I will not say thare shan’t be a noise about it: you may be sure that as soon as the promotions are posted in the Gazette, I will be hearing from a dozen families. At present we have more likely boys trained up than places for them, and you have got yourself the reputation of a proper school-master, even if they did not like to see their sprouts on a heavy-weight: it is a pretty sure road to making lieutenant, if they don’t cut straps before then.”

…and a limp little Greyling: not Volly, but Celoxia, and her captain Meeks. ”On the Gibraltar route, I think,” Meeks said, to their inquiry, ”if he has not been broken-down again,” rather bitterly. ”I don’t mean to carp at you, Laurence; God knows you have done all you might, and more. But they seem to think at the Admiralty that it is like putting a wheel back on a cart, and they want us flying all the old routes again at once…”

Like I’m sure this isn’t representative of everyone in the corps, but they have definitely been accepted by more than just Lily’s formation. There are officers who have only met Laurence in passing who have decided that the weird navy guy is pretty decent actually and definitely is one of the aviators now. Maybe they think back on how worried and angry they were when they heard that a heavy weight had choosen an outsider for captain and laugh a little, because sure there were some issues at the beginning, but now they have a cure for the illness and a diplomatic soloution with China, so surely everything will settle back into business as usual. And Then.

[merevide]

thinking about killing eve again. thinking about eve. and her inhabitions and how she was so repressed and unfulfilled and her only true escape from that was her extensive research into female assassins and through that and getting fired and then rehired she meets villanelle and they basically bring out the worst in each other obvi but that’s also kinda their best selves because all villanelle wants is to be understood and that’s also what eve wants but she denies and denies and denies and she basically keeps denying everything until it’s too late and she’s left alone, again, screaming out in the water.

[anticutes]

i have a lot of feelings about junko's relationship with class 77-b and i want to write that out at some point... squirrels that into the drafts

[deacf-coffee-is-a-sin]

yall i know im late to the party but u HAVE to read 13 storeys by jonathan sims. holy fucking shit this book was so fucking good

[savageday6]

.

[wygolvillage]

honestly i think a lot of people on here are really attached to the idea that a visual motif/metaphor can only mean One Specific Thing and cant vary based on context

[somehowmags]

i’ve seen a lot of posts talking about nimona’s queer messages which is great! but ive not seen as many posts talking analyzing how both ballister and ambrosius were changed to be asian, which is a shame because i genuinely think its one of the most important parts of the film! a huge part of it is a deconstruction of the model minority myth and respectability politics, both of which are big issues in the asian american community. both of them represent each side of the spectrum, with ambrosius expected to be superhuman with very little support and ballister being seen as less than human, no matter how hard he tries- a monster.

ambrosius (who is now east asian, like his voice actor eugene lee yang, who is korean with chinese and japanese ancestry), despite being in a seemingly powerful position as head of the knights and a descendant of gloreth, he isn’t really given the kind of support that this position needs- he’s constantly undermined and belittled by todd, the face of the other knights, and when asked about his emotional state by the director, represses his emotions rather than talk to her about his true feelings. this is very similar to how asian american students in schools aren’t given the support they need academically by teachers and administration, as the model minority myth leads to them being perceived as more intelligent and competent than their fellow students and therefore not needing support. he’s also held to a higher standard than any of the other knights, being immediately placed into a position of power despite just being knighted, again a reflection of the model minority myth, since asian americans are held to higher standards unfairly. despite being technically better off than ballister, he has no support, no friends, no way to seek help for his problems, and, just like ballister, is immediately thrown away the moment the director thinks he’s served his use.

ballister is now pakistani, like his voice actor riz ahmed (no, not like pedro pascal. where did this come from lol), and i’d go as far as to say that he is also, if not explicitly muslim, heavily muslim coded as well. he’s framed as a terrorist by the white, christian institution, and from then on, it doesn’t matter how good he tries to be- everyone else sees him as a monster. he’s also from a lower socioeconomic class than ambrosius and the rest of the knights- while this is initially used to frame him as a success story, after he’s framed, it’s used to cast suspicion on him. almost immediately he’s othered, with posters casting him as a foreign invader sent to destabilize the city, much in the same way that muslim immigrants are seen in real life. even when he tries to be peaceful and good, it’s always twisted so that he’s the monster of the story. while ambrosius is held to too high of a standard, ballister will never be enough for the institution to accept.

which is why both of their arcs culminate in them breaking out of the system, learning to accept what they’d been taught was monstrous, and leaving behind respectability. it’s a genuinely great commentary, and i can definitely see why riz ahmed and eugene lee yang were chosen for this, as they’ve both done activist work for their communities.

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @mimimar

Hi! I’m Michelle (Mimimar), an illustrator born and raised in Venezuela, currently based in Italy. I enjoy making colorful illustrations that reflect the things I love: fairy tales, fantasy, tenderness and queer (especially sapphic) stories. Occasionally, I also make paper dolls, comics and animatics. I have a lot of interest in book illustration and I’m currently developing my own stories that I hope to share as an author-illustrator someday!

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I always enjoyed drawing when I was a kid, but it only became a hobby that I did almost every day when I was around 11. At first I only used traditional mediums, but I decided to make a serious effort to learn how to draw digitally when I was 15, and once I got the hang of it I never stopped!

I didn’t go to art school so all of my learning was done through studying the tutorials and resources that other artists generously share on the internet and lots of practice / trial and error.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I want to do many things but what I want to do the most right now is work on books! I want to make art for other authors’ stories and also my own stories as an author-illustrator. I want to grow as a storyteller and create art and stories that will really resonate with people emotionally. I’m always striving to improve my skills as well.

I also really love dolls, so working on doll box art or as a doll designer is something I would love to do someday. I actually have been designing paper dolls on my Patreon for the past few months, it’s been a fun project that is still ongoing right now!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Probably using a lot of purple! It’s my favorite color so I find myself using it a lot. If I can find a way to sneak a little bit of purple into an illustration or a character design then I will.

Congratulations on finishing your Ivy Comic! Did the outcome turn out like how you expected or were there some unexpected bumps along the way?

Thank you! It’s a project that I worked on very slowly in between other art because I wanted to really take my time with every spread and make each of them a fully detailed illustration. I thumbnailed the full comic before starting but I kept changing the sketch for the final spread until the very end! Overall I’m really proud of the end result. I sprinkled a lot of hidden details in every page that I hope some of the readers will notice. For example: the meanings of the flowers in each page represent what the characters are feeling in that moment, and the colors of their wardrobe become gradually lighter as the story progresses to represent their emotions, as well as the changing of seasons.

We’ve noticed that you have created some amazing cover art for TGCF. Is there another series you would like to do something similar with? 

That was another passion project that took some time to complete. Initially, I didn’t intend for them to be specifically covers, it was just a series of illustrations based on the 5 books/main arcs of TGCF. But since they were well-received and I had people telling me they wish they could use them as covers for their books, I decided to rework them into dust jackets for the english translation of TGCF!

I haven’t thought of any other specific series but I love doing cover art so maybe I’ll do something similar again in the future!

What’s your favorite part of your style? Why?

I’ve heard from other people that there’s a delicate quality to my art, this is something that I like a lot! I like pretty things, fairytales and vibrant colors. I think all of these things probably reflect in the art I make as well.

If there is one thing you want your audience to remember about your work, what would it be?

I hope that they remember how it made them feel. Feelings and colors are the two things I give priority to in my work. Most of the time I like depicting tenderness, softness and emotional intimacy. If that could reach the viewer and stay with them it would make me very happy. 

I make a lot of art with queer (mainly sapphic) themes because they’re the kind of stories I personally like and want to see more of, so whenever people tell me that my art has helped them in their journey to discover and accept themselves, or that they see themselves and their partner in my art, it is always extremely meaningful to me. When art that I made to give myself comfort can provide comfort for others, no matter how small, it reminds me once again that despite any hardships art is genuinely worth pursuing.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

So many artists! To name a few:  I love @sakizo’s amazing eye for fashion and detail,  @paneeps’ gorgeous style and striking colors,  the sweetness of @bevsi’s art,  @vickisigh’s pretty colors and concepts,  @idledee’s warm and heartfelt art,  @littlestpersimmon’s dreamy wonderful art,  and @loish has been an inspiration for as long as I can remember.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @mimimar.

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

I think also that, for me at least, digging into massive past trauma and learning things about yourself that you were absolutely not anticipating learning, it really puts a lot of things about current relationships into perspective. It explains triggers you didn’t know were triggers. It puts you in a place of needing things from your partner that you had no way of knowing you would need. And if that person just simply is not in a spot to go there with you, it becomes clear what has to happen if you are to continue on that self-exploration journey. And that journey was, for me at least, very much a life/death journey that I HAD to go on. It isn’t bad or cruel if your partner isn’t able to be the support you suddenly need. She clearly unearthed some Stuff while writing midnights and it’s not inherently Bad that they reached the decision to not continue being each others support going forward.

I know I’m making some assumptions, but when I recovered some Big memories last year post-isolation, and my partner was starting to travel a lot for work again, there were literally months of huuuuge conversations about what we both needed and how to keep both of us safe and well while I was in the thick of it. And that I would be in the thick of it for the rest of my life. And we somehow managed to make it work and have become more solid than ever (in large part bc of some questions Renegade forced me to look at!) but there was definitely a period where neither of us knew what would happen and we eventually just had to make the decision. I gave the ultimatum: you’re either with me in this, and you figure out how to advocate for your own needs while I’m going through it, or you tap out right now so that I can regroup and focus on building relationships that will be able to safely hold this with me.

Adult relationships with PTSD are very difficult to navigate, and all the lyrics we have about the way they did for the past 6 years point to them both being caring, realistic, and mature. As other people have said, breaking up is sometimes the best answer even though it is very hard. It doesn’t mean the relationship was a failure. It means that both people are able to understand their own needs and do what needs to be done to get those needs met in healthy ways. Which to me, means that the relationship was incredibly worth while and safe. Obviously I can’t know what happened, but I imagine because of how closely (what she has shared about) her history and her life with Joe paralleled my history and relationship, it could’ve gone a similar place and reached a different conclusion :/