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#i think the closest i can mean in the context of it being a kids show

idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 · 1 year

Text

The Bond

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

Relationship: Neteyam x Fem!Na’vi!Reader

Summary: The bond is a beautiful thing, but it’s also the most painful thing you ever experienced.

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids). Major character death. Angst. Pregnancy. ATWOW spoilers.

Comments: Hockey people look away, look away… After watching ATWOW I physically could not stop thinking about ‘what if you could feel the bond’ the way Parabatai feel each other in the Mortal Instruments and one thing led to another… This really was supposed to just be a short little imagine just to get the idea out of my head so I could work on my other projects but then I went hmmm no I think this needs some context for it to make sense and then I proceeded to write their entire fucking story cradle to grave and spent WAY too much time fact checking every single detail… There were a bunch of ways I could have expanded this, but I told myself no because no one needs a 50k+ Neteyam story... Also, this was not betad because I was not about to subject my poor beta to my current Avatar obsession.

Disclaimer: I thought Neteyam was 20 the whole movie so that’s how old he is in this, which is about the same age Jake and Neytiri were in the first film. And also, Neteyam wears a battle belt, which means he is seen as a man among the Omatikaya.

do not repost, do not claim as your own

Tsaheylu.

The bond.

The beginning and the end of everything.

You feel their breath, you feel their heart, you feel their strength. It’s your way to connect with the world around you. At least, that’s what they always told you.

It’s a beautiful thing the bond. You can ride and fly and see and hear without uttering a single word. And most beautiful of all, you get to feel your mate, if you were lucky enough to find one.

With a mate, it wasn’t just their breaths and heart you felt like a horse or an ikran. It was deeper, much deeper. You felt them. Their thoughts, their memories, the every ounce of their being. The bond ties you to them—to their soul—for life, connects you to them in a way you’d never be connected to anyone or anything for as long as you lived.

It’s a beautiful thing the bond.

You could remember the first time Neteyam brought up the possibility of mating.

The golden son, the next Olo’eykton, the first-born son of Toruk Makto and Neytiri, Neteyam always had big shoes to fill, and it was always something he struggled with in silence. Who was he to talk to about the shade of greatness he grew up in? His father? His mother? His little brother? None of them understood, and none of them saw him.

But you did.

For as long as you could remember, Neteyam had been your closest friend, and you his—outside of his siblings at least. Kiri wasn’t much younger than him, but she had always been closer with Lo’ak than him, and Neteyam had always had more of a protective, fatherly role than a brotherly one with them and Tuk especially.

But you? You held no expectations for him. With you he was just Neteyam—or ’Teyam when he made you laugh hard enough you could barely breathe. You did everything with him. Training, hunting, claiming a banshee. Every step, you were there, and there was no one you felt closer to than him.

You didn’t have a big family like he did, it was only you. But you had him. He was your best friend, your everything, your—

Neteyam was going to be the next Olo’eykton and whoever he took as his mate would be the next Tsahìk, so you knew it wasn’t a decision he took lightly. If his father wasn’t Jake Sully, you were sure he’d have been betrothed to a woman his parents deemed worthy of being the next Olo’eykton’s mate. You didn’t know if Eywa had her eyes on you at the decision not to betroth him because, on one hand, there was a chance he’d take you, but on the other, you knew him choosing another of his own will would break you irreversibly.

Neteyam had shown some interest in the other girls in the village, especially the ones his mother mentioned to him, but you never saw him have more than a few conversations with them, mostly about hunting, which they didn’t seem to appreciate as much as you did.

You didn’t know that they were never the one he wanted. That for him, there had only ever been one.

It was the eve of his iknimaya ceremony, the final step of him becoming taronyu, of becoming a man, that he first brought up the possibility of mating with you. Once he became a man, he could choose a woman.

The thought alone made your chest tight. You couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in your tent before you finally resigned yourself and slipped out. A night walk in the forest would, at the very least, keep your mind occupied.

You should have known Neteyam had the same idea.

Becoming a hunter, becoming a man, becoming one of the People, and earning his place in the clan all weighed heavily on him. He lived in the shadow of his father who had gone from Sky People to one of the People to Toruk Makto to Olo’eykton in a span of a few months. He was only the sixth Toruk Makto since the first songs and Neteyam knew that even if he were to be a great Olo’eykton, he’d never be his father, and it ate at him.

No matter how hard he tried, Neteyam couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned but his mind fought his every attempt at sleep. He knew he needed sleep for the day ahead, but he wasn’t granted peace and finally he resigned himself to a walk to clear his mind. At the very least, the night would pass more quickly and bring him into tomorrow.

Neither of you realized the other was close, not at first. Your mind was so consumed by the thought of him that you weren’t looking where you were going and didn’t put the care into your steps like you knew you should. The snap of the twig under your step was secondary to you, but it made Neteyam’s ears twitch.

He wasn’t alone.

A moment later, another twig snapped under your foot and Neteyam let it consume his attention. All he had on him was his knife, but it would have to do, he was the best hunter of his age after all.

He followed your uncaring, twig breaking steps silently with his knife down, unsure of what he was following. But as soon as he caught a flash of blue skin in the dark, he let himself relax a little. When he stepped a little closer to get a clearer view, he sheathed his knife as he let out a soft laugh. He’d know you anywhere.

The sound of his laugh made your ears twitch and you tensed. You’d know that sound anywhere. “Neteyam?” You breathed as you turned around and a moment later, he revealed himself with his hands up and a playful smile on his lips as he said your name back to you.

“It is late,” he told you as he stepped closer, his tail flicking behind him. “You should be asleep.”

“As should you,” you replied and returned his smile. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Ah,” he brushed you off with a short wave of his hand. “I’ll be fine,” he told you. “I do not have to hunt tomorrow, just become taronyu.”

Your smile slipped for half a moment before you pushed it back up. “I know,” you replied, hoping your tone didn’t betray you.

His ears straightened as he watched you and he hoped, oh Eywa he hoped, that he wasn’t misinterpreting your hesitation as he stepped closer to you. “Once I become taronyu, I may take a woman.”

You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your eyes so you turned away from him. “I know,” you whispered. “It’s a big day for the clan. There are many fine women to choose from.”

His heart dropped, fearing rejection from the only woman he had ever wanted. “I know,” he said and let his tail brush yours as he stepped around you, forcing you to look at him.

You shivered at the touch but brushed it off as an accidental touch. “Your father is very fond of Miayho, and your mother favours Zia,” you told him softly, unable to meet his eyes.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “But I’ve already chosen.” His words made your heart drop and you tried to turn away from him again, but he cupped your cheek to stop you. “But this woman must also choose me.”

“She must be lucky,” you whispered, your heart aching.

“She is,” Neteyam smiled. “She is strong and beautiful and a little slow at times, but she is the only one I could ever want.”

“’Teyam,” you breathed, your voice breaking, but his smile never faltered.

“I’m speaking of you,” he told you and softly shook his head. “Tomorrow I am granted the chance to choose a woman, and you are the only woman I have ever wanted. I choose you, if you choose me, too.”

You were quiet as the weight of his words sunk in, but slowly you cupped his cheek, too. “I chose you the moment I saw you,” you replied and rubbed your thumb over the deep blue line that traced the arch of his cheek.

Neteyam’s smile filled your chest with warmth and you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. Neteyam’s smile softened as he rubbed his nose against yours. He’d mate you right here right now if you let him, but it was not the way, and a day was a short wait compared to the years he had already been waiting.

“So, it is decided, then?” He asked as he pulled back to look at you.

“It is,” you blushed and dipped your head as your ears went back, already itching to reach for your braid. At your words, Neteyam’s shoulders lightened, somewhat anyway. The weight of being the next Olo’eykton and living up to his father still plagued him, but he knew as long as he had you by his side, he’d be alright.

“We should sleep, then,” he told you and bit his lip. “I intent to mate you before Eywa tomorrow.”

Your blush darkened as you smiled. You didn’t dare ask if his mother or father approved of the match, you didn’t care, you just wanted him, needed him. “We should,” you agreed and tilted your chin up. “It is a big day tomorrow.”

Neteyam’s smile widened and he dipped his head. “A very big day,” he agreed and took your hand before he led you back to the village. The sooner you both fell asleep, the sooner tomorrow would come, and the sooner you could become one.

“You could stay with me,” you told him as you approached your tent.

There was nothing Neteyam wanted more, but he also knew his father would expect him in his own bed bright and early and he didn’t want to start the big day on the wrong foot. “Tomorrow night,” he replied and dipped his head. “Tonight will be our last night apart.”

You hated when he pulled his hand from yours, but you knew he was right, that it was the way. You had waited years for this, you could wait another night. “Tomorrow,” you nodded.

“Tomorrow,” he echoed you before he stepped back. Still, he watched as you slipped into your tent safe and secure before he made his way back to his own and prayed to Eywa his father hadn’t noticed his absence. Thankfully, he hadn’t, and Neteyam settled into his bed with a smile and warm chest.

Tomorrow he became taronyu.

Tomorrow he became a man.

Tomorrow he gained you.

His eyelids were heavy and sleep came more easily to him. One moment he was thinking of your beautiful golden eyes, the next he was passed out, dreaming of your smile and the comforting flowery scent that always clung to your hair.

The sun woke him bright and early like it always did and he smiled as he stretched out.

Today was the day.

“Are you nervous?” Lo’ak asked him over breakfast and Neteyam rolled his eyes.

“Why would I be nervous?”

Lo’ak’s shit eating grin widened as he shoved his brother’s shoulder, “that no woman will want to mate with your ugly face.”

Any other day Neteyam would have told his brother off and shoved him back, but your words were still fresh in his mind—I chose you the moment I saw you—and his ears went back as he dipped his head.

Lo’ak’s smile faltered as he moved closer, his ears perking up before he knocked his shoulder against his brother’s. “Bro,” he said under his breath so their parents wouldn’t hear. “Got something you’d like to share?”

Neteyam knocked his shoulder right back against his brother’s. He was quiet for a moment as he debated whether he should say anything, but Neteyam knew his brother well, better than anyone, and he knew Lo’ak wouldn’t stop pestering him until he spilled. “I may have already chosen a woman,” he said with a small smile. “And she has chosen me as well. We will be mated before Eywa.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak breathed and put his hand on the back of Neteyam’s neck as he gave him a little shake. “You asked her?” Neteyam didn’t have to say a name for him to know he meant you.

Neteyam dropped his head again as he nodded, “it is decided.”

“I am surprised she settled for your skxawng ass, but I am happy for you, bro,” Lo’ak grinned, and he laughed as Neteyam bared his fangs at him and shook him off.

“Watch who you call skxawng, skxawng,” he replied, making Lo’ak laugh hard enough that their father looked over at them and their ears went back as they quickly went quiet.

Jake watched his sons for a long moment before he stepped over and sat down next to Neteyam and put his hand on his shoulder. “Are you ready, son?”

Neteyam smiled as he nodded, “born ready, sir.”

“Good,” Jake smiled and patted his son on the back. “Your mom has the paint, whenever you’re ready.”

Neteyam’s tail flicked behind him. “Actually, if it’s alright, there’s something else who I’d like to do the paint.”

For a moment Jake’s eyebrows raised as he looked at his son before the corner of his lip twitched up as he remembered when Neytiri painted him for his own iknimaya. “Of course,” Jake nodded. “But you have to tell your mother.”

His mother wasn’t exactly happy to give up the chance to paint her first born son ahead of the ceremony, but Neteyam rarely asked for anything and she could see in his eyes that it meant a great deal to him, so she resigned herself and handed the bowls of paint over to him. “I hope you chose well, my son,” Neytiri told him.

“I did,” Neteyam replied with a smile. “Thank you, mother.”

The bowls were full and despite their small size, they felt heavy in his hands as he headed out to find you. Neteyam knew both you and the village like the back of his hand so it was easy for him to find you. you blushed as he met your gaze and he smiled before he lowered his head to you and he sat down across from you.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” You asked him softly, buzzing with anticipation of what was to come.

“I should, yes,” he agreed and sat the bowls of paint down in front of you.

“Neteyam,” you breathed. It was traditionally done by mothers.

“I want you to,” he smiled. “That is, if you want to, too.”

You were quiet for a moment before you nodded. “I want to,” you smiled softly and moved the bowls closer to you, the weight of their significance not lost on you as you beckoned him closer. “Now?” You asked softly.

Neteyam nodded as he moved closer. You blushed when he ginned at you shoved his shoulder before dipping your fingers into the white paint. You started with his arm, your touch light as you traced familiar patterns over his skin. Neteyam shivered, both at the coolness of the paint and your touch and it made you blush deepen as you focused on your lines, not wanting to mess any of them up, especially when you felt the weight of his gaze on you.

After his arms, you moved on to his chest and you gave Neteyam a look when the corner of his lip twitched up. “I am well aware you are a mighty warrior, Neteyam,” you told him and pulled your fingers back so you wouldn’t ruin the lines.

“But now you feel that I am a mighty warrior,” he smirked, making you roll your eyes.

You were quiet for a moment as you tried to think of a reply. Slowly, you trailed your fingers down his abdomen and let your lip twitch up when you felt him tense at your touch. “I do,” you hummed and looked up at him. “And soon I will feel all of you.”

You bit your lip as Neteyam’s eyes darkened but you devoted your attention to finishing the lines on his abdomen before you picked up one of the bowls and moved to his back, giggling as Neteyam’s tail kept flicking as you traced the patterns on his skin and once you were done, you hesitated before pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck and giggled when his ears stood straight up.

“You are a tease, woman,” he breathed as you settled back in front of him to paint his face.

“Am not,” you replied with a smile as you dipped your fingers into the paint again. “Now stay still.” To his benefit, Neteyam was still as he watched you, his tail flicking every now and then as you traced careful lines over his face, finishing with a feather light touch over his lips.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you looked him over. “You are ready,” you told him as you sat back on your haunches.

“I am?” He asked and you nodded.

“You are.”

Neteyam knew kissing you would ruin the paint you worked so hard to get perfect, but he still thought about it and it took every ounce of his self control not to kiss you. “Thank you,” he smiled before he stood and your heart fluttered in your chest as you took him in.

Your best friend. Your lover. Your mate.

A man.

You took his hand when he extended it to you and let him lead you down to where the ceremony would take place. To no surprise, his parents, siblings, and grandmother were already there and when you met his mother’s gaze, you get go of his hand. You weren’t mates yet and this was his ceremony. A ceremony for the clan.

At the loss of your hand, Neteyam looked back at you but you gave him a reassuring smile as you encouraged him on with a nod so he returned his gaze to his parents. Slowly the rest of the clan emerged and began to form the circle around him, and you.

“Neteyam,” Jake started as he looked at his son, trying and failing to restrain his smile. “My son. You tamed an ikran and completed your dream hunt. You are one of the People now,” he said before putting his hands on Neteyam’s shoulders just like Eytukan had done to him many years before. Once Jake touched Neteyam, the rest of his family and then the clan followed suit, one by one until everyone was connected as they welcomed Neteyam into the clan as a man.

You smiled at him as the people began to separate and once he could, Neteyam turned and put his hand on your shoulder, making you blush. His parents weren’t oblivious as they watched you, and Jake gave Neytiri a knowing smile as he held his hand out to her. It felt like just yesterday that she had done the same to him and he was happy for his son. He chose well, just like he did.

Every time a member of the clan came of age, there was a celebration. It was filled with food and dance and stories and songs; and Neteyam spent the whole night looking at you.

He was seated between his father, the Olo’eykton, and Lo’ak, and you were across from him, much too far for his liking. He could hear the people telling stories, but he wasn’t listening as he focused on you. You were the only thing that mattered to him.

You had put flowers in your hair and you wore a top he didn’t recognize so it had to be new and Neteyam couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were his everything.

It was only once the sun began to dip in the sky and people returned to their tents that Neteyam was able to steal some much needed alone time with you.

Neteyam washed the paint off and put his newly earned battle belt on by himself, but Jake stuck around with a gut instinct and gave his son a nod before he put his hand on his shoulder. Neteyam didn’t have to tell him for him to know he intended to take a mate, he remembered his own youth well and he could only hope his son found the same happiness he found in Neytiri.

Neteyam nodded back to his father, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure, son?” Jake asked and Neteyam nodded.

“More sure than I have ever been.”

“Good,” Jake nodded and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

It was Neteyam’s turn to laugh and he shrugged his father’s hand off, dipping his head to his father one final time before he slipped out to find you. He was a man now, and you were his to claim.

Neteyam held his hand out to you and you blushed as you took it and let him guide you toward the Tree of Souls. If you were to be mated, then you were going to do it properly and you would be mated before Eywa.

It was only you and Neteyam before the tree and your heart raced with anticipation. By the time you got before the tree, before Eywa, you were a couple steps ahead of Neteyam and your ears twitched with every step he took to close the distance between you. Your tail flicked as he shifted his weight and it took him way too long to touch you, his hand just barely brushing your back to make you look at him.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he said softly, giving you an out. But you didn’t want an out.

“I want to,” you told him, holding his eyes before you slowly lowered yourself to your knees, your heart racing. This was the moment you had been waiting for your whole life, with the person you had been hoping for.

Neteyam followed your lead and knelt across from you before he pulled his braid over his shoulder. You held his gaze as you did the same, your braid heavy in your hand. You had made the bond with horses and your ikran, but taking a mate was something else entirely. Your heart raced with excitement and anxiety as you gripped the end of your braid and held it up, your tendrils searching for his.

You held Neteyam’s gaze as he gripped the end of his own braid and held it out. You let your eyes drop to your braid as he brought his closer. He paused to give you a chance to pull back, and when you didn’t, he moved his braid closer, letting his tendrils intertwine with yours.

It was unlike anything you had every experienced before.

The air left you lungs and you closed your eyes as you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. His touch felt like electricity as he trailed his hands up your arms. And then you were overcome with warmth and familiarity and comfort. Home, you realized. You felt at home. You pulled back to look at him, your jaw slack and pupils blown and you found Neteyam looking back at you with the same awestruck expression. Warmth and pleasure coursed through your veins and when he cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch.

And then he kissed you. For as long as you could remember, you dreamt of the touch of your mate, but it was so much better than you could have imagined and you melted into the kiss as you rested your hands on his shoulders and moved closer.

Neteyam’s hands trailed down to your hips and you let him pull you onto his lap, both of you desperate for every touch you could steal. You pulled back from the kiss to catch your breath as you struggled to keep air in your lungs, your pull to Neteyam so strong. Your jaw was slack as you looked at him and you were sure your pupils were as blown as his were.

“Neteyam,” you breathed and rubbed your nose against his, craving his touch.

“I know, my name,” he breathed and rubbed his nose back against yours as he let you feel him through his loin cloth. It pulled a soft moan from your lips which he quickly quieted with another kiss.

“I need you,” he said against your lips and let his hand brush the top of your tail, knowing how sensitive it was, and he was rewarded with you rocking your hips into his.

“I need you, too,” you told him and pulled back so you could run your hand down his strong chest to his newly earned warrior’s belt. It wasn’t something you had ever put on let alone taken off, so Neteyam had to help you rid himself of it so you could once again trail your fingers down his abdomen and down to the top of his loin cloth.

Neteyam’s soft groan had heat pooling between your thighs and you were sure he could feel it. “’Teyam,” you whispered and covered his hand on your hip with your own. His golden eyes were dark as he looked at you and you slowly guided his hand up to your chest, needing him to touch you.

Neteyam had seen your chest more times than he’d care to admit, the necklace and beads provided little coverage, but seeing you and feeling you were two entirely different things. Your skin was warm and soft beneath his touch, but your nipples were hard and when he caught it between his fingers, he was rewarded with a soft moan from you, which he desperately wanted to hear again.

He licked his lips as he brought his hand up to your other breast. His hands dwarfed you, and you moaned and leaned into him as he pinched your nipples, learning exactly what you liked, what you needed.

“’Teyam,” you whined and rocked your hips into his once again. His touch wasn’t enough, you could feel him and you needed him. “My mate,” you whispered and trailed your hands down his back.

“I know,” he nodded. You didn’t have to tell him for him to know. He gave a final tweak to your nipples before trailing his hands down your sides to the band of your loin cloth. He kept his eyes on yours as he undid it and slowly peeled the material away from you. it only made your racing heart more intense as you rested on his lap, and your tail brushed his knees as he looked at you before he laid you back against the soft moss.

You were bare to him, but you didn’t care as he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Neteyam ran his eyes over you before he reached down to untie his own loin cloth, and then there was nothing between you.

“Please, ‘Teyam.”

He nodded and ran his hand up your thigh toward where you needed him most. As soon as his thumb reached the seam of where your thigh met your hip, Neteyam could feel how badly you needed him, your wetness coating your skin, pulling a soft groan from him.

When he finally touched you, his touch was light and you let your eyes close as you moaned softly. He was gentle as he trailed his fingers up your slit to the bud at the top and he was rewarded with a loud gasp when he rubbed your clit. He watched you with careful eyes as he circled the bud with his fingers and felt how you throbbed for him.

The tips of his fingers were rough from his years of hunting, and between the roughness and sureness of his touch, you wouldn’t last long. Your high was building fast and when you opened your eyes and found his familiar golden eyes looking back at you, it sent you over the edge.

“Neteyam,” you moaned as you came, your back arching as you pressed your hips into his hand. Neteyam groaned as you drenched his hand and he kept rubbing your clit through it, loving your blissed out expression. It was only when your moans turned to whines that he trailed his fingers down your slit to your entrance.

“May I?” He asked and you nodded quickly so he pressed his finger into you, moaning at how warm and tight you were. His mate, he thought. His perfect mate.

Once you adjusted to his finger, he added a second, not wanting to hurt you. He felt your every flutter around his fingers and it made his cock ache. “I need you,” he told you, his voice rough from holding himself back.

“Then have me,” you replied and spread your legs wider, desperate for your mate.

“Eywa have mercy,” he whispered and pulled his fingers from you before slotting himself between your thighs. He didn’t have to ask, he could feel your need, and he held your gaze as he guided himself to your entrance.

You gasped as he pressed into you and he rested his forehead against yours until his hips were touching yours. “My mate,” he breathed as you ran your hands down his back, and when you wrapped your legs around his hips, you felt his tail brush your ankle. Neteyam’s breaths were shallow as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, both of you needing a moment to adjust.

You were finally tied together the way you always should have been.

Together.

Connected.

One.

“’Teyam,” you breathed once you had adjusted and you cupped the back of his head.

He knew exactly what you needed and he nodded as he pulled halfway out before thrusting back into you and started a slow rhythm, soaking in every feeling of you. You had never felt so connected to someone and you melted at his touch, unsure of where you ended and he began.

His movements were slow but sure and you were consumed with the feel and smell of him. He filled you in a way you didn’t know you could be filled and you could feel yourself get closer and closer to that high with his every movement.

It wasn’t long until your moans grew louder and you dug your nails into his shoulders as your tail thrashed against the moss. When you came, your veins were filled with warmth, a warmth that only Neteyam could feel as his hips stuttered. The feeling of his mate cumming around him was indescribable and it pushed him ever closer.

He fucked you through your high before he picked his pace up, searching his own high. It wasn’t long before he came, too, burying himself deep inside you as he filled you up. You gasped at the feeling and pulled him closer, needing every piece of your mate you could get.

Neteyam smiled into your neck as you both caught your breath, and he pressed a light kiss to your skin before he pulled back to look at you with a soft smile. “We are mated before Eywa,” he breathed and cupped your jaw.

You leaned into his touch with a soft smile. “We are mated for life,” you replied, making his smile widen.

“My mate, my beautiful mate,” he smiled and rested his forehead against yours as you both soaked each other in.

You stayed with your forehead against his as your highs melted away, and slowly Neteyam pulled out of you, murmuring a soft apology when you whimpered at the loss of him. You could still feel his every breath and heartbeat, just like he could feel yours, and when he reached to break the bond, you shook your head. “Can we stay like this?” You asked softly.

Neteyam dropped his head as he nodded and he gave you a small smile before he kissed you softly. His every touch felt like home and you melted into him. He ran his thumbs over your cheek as he looked at you, his eyes full of love for you before he let himself settle behind you. His chest was warm against your back as he wrapped his arms around your waist and you smiled to yourself as you leaned back against him.

You could feel his breath and his heart and the entirely of his being.

Whole, you realized, you felt whole. Neteyam was your other half, the part you hadn’t realized you were missing. Your everything.

The bond was a beautiful thing.

You smiled as you melted back against him. Your eyelids were heavy and it was easy for sleep to claim you, and when it did, you dreamt of your future with Neteyam—the way you’d grow together and the son he’d give you—and you smiled as you slept, unaware that Eywa had shown Neteyam the same dream.

When you woke to the sunlight streaming on your face the next morning, Neteyam was already awake, just soaking in the feeling of you, your braids still conjoined. He smiled when he realized you were awake and guided you onto your back so he could look at you as he rested on his side.

“Good morning, my mate,” he smiled softly.

“Good morning, my mate,” you repeated and reached out to cup his cheek. Neteyam leaned into your touch, making you smile as you ran your thumb over the arch of his cheek.

All he wanted was to stay wrapped up in you forever, but he knew you both had things to do and expectations to meet. “We should head back to the village,” he whispered and you sighed before nodding.

“We should,” you agreed, even if all you wanted was him.

He nodded and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he asked to separate your braids. You didn’t want to, but you nodded and let Neteyam pull his braid from yours. You gasped at the break, feeling colder than you did a moment before, but even without the bond you could feel Neteyam. It was nowhere as strong as when your braids met, but he still lingered in the back of your mind and you knew you lingered in the back of his. You gave him a soft smile as you trailed your hand down his arm and he grinned at you, so in love with you.

It wasn’t hard for both of you to redress, through it did take you a few extra moments to clean your thighs, which made Neteyam smirk as he watched you, both of you taking your time, neither of you wanting the moment to end.

You had left the village as individuals, but now you returned as a mated pair. You held his hand as you let him guide you through the village toward his parents, toward the Olo’eykton.

As the Olo’eykton, it was his duty to know of every newly mated pair, and had it been anyone but his father, you wouldn’t have been so nervous. Sure, it was soon after his iknimaya, but he was still a man. But it was Neteyam’s father and Neteyam was the next Olo’eykton, making you, his mate, the next Tsahìk, and you couldn’t disappoint his family, or the People.

To no surprise, his family was already awake. Village life always started early.

“Neteyam,” Neytiri started when she laid her eyes on her oldest son, but her next words died on her tongue when she saw him holding your hand. He didn’t have to say anything for her to know. At his mate’s voice, Jake looked over and the corner of his lips twitched up as he saw his eldest son, already sensing his earlier intuition was correct.

“Mother, father,” Neteyam said and dipped his head to his parents, his hand never leaving yours, “I am taronyu now,” he continued. “Which means—”

“You may now choose a woman,” his mother finished for him, thinking back to the night she told Jake the very same words.

“Yes,” he breathed before he glanced back at you with a smile. “And I have.”

“You have?” Jake asked and Neteyam nodded as he looked to his father.

“We are mated before Eywa.”

His mother took a sharp breath in, not in disapproval, but out of realization that her eldest son had truly become a man and had left her nest. Jake touched Neytiri’s arm to ground her as he nodded to his son. “We’re happy for you,” he said for the both of them before looking at his own mate, encouraging her to say something.

“We are,” she breathed and stepped forward to cup Neteyam’s cheek. “My son,” she whispered and ran her thumb over the arch of his cheek.

Neteyam smiled at his mother before he nodded and pulled back from her touch, his smile widening as he looked at you and let his tail brush yours. Jake nodded at the interaction before he smiled at you, “welcome to the family.”

Your smile widened before you dipped your head to him. “Thank you, sir.”

“Nah,” Jake waved his hand. “It’s Jake.” He told you, though one day you’d come to call him ‘dad.’

You were welcomed into the Sully family with open arms. Neytiri had her reservations, as would any mother, but Jake adored you. He saw how deeply you cared for Neteyam, and how deeply Neteyam cared for you, and though he’d never admit it, Jake could see him and Neytiri in you two.

Neteyam’s youngest sister, Tuk, adored you and though Neteyam was her best friend, you were a close second. Kiri was happy to have another sister, and one closer in age than Tuk. And Lo’ak…

Lo’ak treated you like you had always been there. He didn’t hesitate to make fun of you like he did for the rest of his siblings, and he certainly didn’t hold back as he made fun of you picking Neteyam for your mate. It always made Neteyam roll his eyes and, more often than not, call his sibling a skxawng, but it made you smile because it meant you were truly part of the family and you loved it.

The bond was beautiful, as was the family you gained with it.

The problem was, nothing stayed perfect forever.

Everything changed the day Jake realized there was one too many stars in the sky.

Twenty years before, Toruk Makto led the clans to victory over the Sky People, all Na’vi knew his story, but the war was over, something of the past, something that had come and gone before either you or Neteyam were born—or it was supposed to be anyway.

The Second War against the Sky People was more intense than you could have ever imagined, with the guns and the fire and the relocation and the devastation and the death—so many deaths.

A very capable hunter, Neteyam was always involved in the war effort. A spotter. He tried to reassure you that it was the safest role he could have, that he wasn’t on the ground on the front lines, but it didn’t make you feel any better. There was no “safe” in a war. And you had seen too many of your people die.

As the mate of the next Olo’eykton, you could be the next Tsahìk, so Mo’at had taken you under her win, teaching you so you could one day take her place. So, unlike your mate, his parents and his brother, your role in the war wasn’t out there but back at home as you worked to heal the wounded—and make comfortable those who would be welcomed into Eywa’s arms.

You knew your role was important, but it was hard. It was hard to see the devastation and the death, and it was hard knowing your mate was out there and could just as easily be the next person who came through the tent flap in need of help.

You could never breathe deeply, let alone eat or drink, until he was home safe.

And the day he came back home bruised and bloodied, you dropped your tray of herbs before you rushed to him, even as Jake scolded him and Lo’ak.

“I’m fine,” he told you softly, but the blood on your hand said otherwise.

“You are bleeding, he is bleeding,” you said as you turned to Jake after he finished his little speech. “I am taking him to Mo’at.” Neytiri backed you up, also worried for her son, so Jake dismissed him and you heard Neytiri arguing with him as you led Neteyam toward the healing tent, your hand on his back.

“I’m fine, truly,” he repeated once you two were out of earshot of his parents.

“You are hurt,” you replied softly and stopped to look at him, taking his hand in yours. “My heart aches seeing you hurt.”

Neteyam gave you a soft smile and rested his forehead against yours. “I am fine, my mate,” he said before he kissed you. “I feel no pain when I am with you.”

His words made your heart flutter and you retuned his smile. “You still require healing,” you replied and led him to Mo’at’s tent where Kiri was helping her grandmother.

You knew you should help Mo’at, but you couldn’t find it in you to leave your mate’s side. Kiri knew what to do, she was even better than you were, and you were more than happy to let her assist Mo’at while you held Neteyam’s hand, the end of your tail curled around his ankle.

Your heart ached every time he winced at the sting of the antiseptic and you squeezed his hand as you watched Mo’at and Kiri. His wound looked worse than it was, and you let out a relieved breath as they finished up.

“See?” Neteyam smiled weakly. “I’m okay.” You shook your head but still thanked Eywa that your mate was alright.

Still, you struggled to find sleep that night, your mind consumed with the what ifs of your mate’s injury. It would be too easy for his injury to be worse, for him to be taken from you. You had seen too many lose their mates the last year and had their blood curling screams as their hearts shattered beyond repair permanently imprinted in your memory.

To lose a mate was a fate worse than death, and you knew you’d never survive it.

Neteyam healed quickly from his wounds and Lo’ak was grounded for his recklessness. Neteyam was back on his ikran long before Lo’ak was, and without his ikran, without being involved in the war, Lo’ak somehow managed to create even more trouble as he convinced his siblings to return to the old shack.

It was a harmless intention born out of boredom and frustration, but the results were life altering.

It was Avatars. New Avatars. In tactical gear. They managed to get Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk and Spider under their knives and you didn’t want to think of what could have happened if not for Jake, Neytiri and Neteyam. But Jake knew they’d never stop hunting them, hunting his family. They may have won the battle, but the war still raged.

Everything changed after that, after they took Spider.

Jake and Neytiri knew the People would never be safe as long as they stayed with them, so they had to leave.

The words were like stones in Neteyam’s heart as he told you his family was planning to leave.

The Forest was your home, the only place you ever knew, the only place you ever wanted to know. The Forest was where you were born, where you grew up, where you fell in love with Neteyam, where you were supposed to raise your children.

Neteyam could sense your hesitation. “My father said it was for the best. He said that the Sky People are hunting us and not the People, so if we leave, the People will be safe,” he explained as he took your hand in his and brushed his tail against yours. “But I will stay with you if you ask me, my mate.” He would follow you to the end of the world if you asked.

You tightened your lips as you thought, but it was an easy decision. Just a painful one. “I go where you go,” you told him softly and squeezed his hand. “You are my home and my future, Neteyam.”

In hindsight, you really wished you had asked him to stay.

You packed your things onto your ikran and your heart ached as you said your goodbyes, but Neteyam was your mate. You couldn’t be without him.

Neteyam flew by your side as you left the Forest and even without touching him, you felt his comfort and you gave him a soft smile. As long as you were together, you’d be alright.

In the end, you found sanctuary with the Metkayina, the reef people.

It was hard to learn their ways, it was hard leaning the way of the water when the Forest was all you knew, but what you didn’t expect was how hard it was to see Neteyam lose his battle belt. His whole life he had been working toward it, working to become taronyu and earn his place among the People, and he barely had it a year before it was taken from him; before his symbol of manhood was taken from him.

Neteyam may have been taronyu, a man, among the Omatikaya, but you were Metkayina now and the iknimaya of the Omatikaya meant nothing here. He had to learn the way of the water and earn his place among the Metkayina before he’d be seen as a man.

Like Jake, Neteyam’s ears dropped as his belt was taken away and you did your best to steel your shoulders like Neytiri. You both had to be strong for your mates.

None of you were seen as adults among the Metkayina, but rather as children. It frustrated some more than others, like you and Neytiri. Neteyam took after his father and tried to take the transition in stride and did what he could to fit in.

And if the relocation and the helpless feeling wasn’t enough, you were sick a few times after the transition. Initially, you blamed it on the dietary shift. Sure, fish had been a part of your diet before, but it was freshwater fish and something you only had on occasion rather than every meal of every day. It was easy to blame your sickness on the fish, you just didn’t realize that none of the others were getting sick. Not until you were shucking oysters with Ronal at least.

Ronal was the Tsahìk of the Metkayina. She saw all and she was especially hesitant toward you and Neytiri. Both you and Neytiri were being trained to become the Tsahìk of the Omatikaya, so it was natural for you both to resume your training with Ronal, she just wasn’t overly fond of the idea.

Ronal let it go the first few times you gagged at the smell of the oysters before she sighed. “Have you mated recently?” She asked without looking at you.

Your eyes bugged at the question. “Why do you ask?” You replied and stopped shucking to look over at her.

“Because I am wondering if you are with child,” Ronal replied, and the knife slipped from your hand.

“What?” You asked breathlessly.

“With child,” she repeated simply. She had had two children of her own with a third on the way, and she had helped to deliver more babes than she could count. She knew the signs well and given the amount of time she had been spending with you over the last couple weeks, she could see them in you. When you didn’t answer, Ronal looked over at you, “it is a simple question. Have you mated recently?”

Your ears went back as you blushed and nodded. Ronal hummed and put the oyster she was holding and her knife down before she stood and beckoned you up. She hummed as she looked you over before she touched your forehead and then your stomach.

“Food aversion?” She asked and you nodded.

“Fatigue?” You nodded again.

“Have you bled?” You thought about it for a moment before you ears went back further. You had been so focused on fitting in and your mate you hadn’t realized.

Ronal hummed and stepped back. “I do believe you are with child,” she said before she returned to her oysters like your world hadn’t just shifted on its axis—again.

Your hands shook as you gently touched your stomach.

Pregnant.

You—

You’d be lying if you said you couldn’t be, you certainly found comfort in your mate’s arms many, many times since the relocation. But pregnant? Now? Could there be a worse time?

Slowly, you pulled your hands back and took a deep breath to clear your mind and ground yourself before you picked your knife back up and reached for another oyster.

“There are other things to do,” Ronal told you. “If the small bothers you, you will be slow. Tsireya will provide you with a different task to do.” You wanted to take her up on the offer, but you could hear Jake’s voice in your head telling you not to cause trouble and pull your weight, so you shook your head.

“I will be fine.”

She hummed but wasn’t surprised when you gagged again a moment later and she cast a look in your direction. You sighed as you nodded and moved your basket of unshucked oysters over to her, “I will find Tsireya.” If she smiled as you walked away, well, no one had to know.

Everyone was still so focused on fitting in and you could see the way looking after Lo’ak and keeping him out of trouble weighed on Neteyam, so you kept the news to yourself. If you told him, he’d only worry about you more than he already did and you didn’t want that.

And, well, it was no surprise that Ronal wasn’t fond of you. Forest People. Outcast. Alien. But knowing you were with child made Ronal soften. She didn’t look at you with the same animosity she did the others, and every time she saw you, she was sure to ask how you were doing. The Sullys were smart people, and it didn’t take Neytiri long to put two and two together and realize something was up with you, but she kept her suspicions to herself as she kept a careful eye on you.

You had always been the more affectionate one in your relationship with Neteyam, always touching him or seeking to touch him, but now you were reserved. At first, Neytiri thought you two were fighting, but Neteyam assured her you weren’t, that it was just the move and the swimming was exhausting you and the fish wasn’t agreeing with you, which was true—it just wasn’t the whole truth.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him. You did, you just didn’t want to add to his already full plate, and then the longer you kept it a secret the harder it was to tell him. Between Kiri’s seizure and Norm coming and Lo’ak and Neteyam’s fight with Ao’nung and Payakan and the Tulkun, there just wasn’t a good time to tell him.

It was only after yet another dinner you couldn’t keep down that the truth finally came to light.

“You are unwell,” Neteyam said as he followed you toward your hut. It was the third time this week and he was tired of you constantly brushing it, and him, off.

“I’m fine, Neteyam,” you sighed. “It’s just—”

“The move? The fish?” He repeated your words back to you. “No, I don’t believe you. Have you spoken to Ronal? She is Tsahìk and she could help you.”

You hesitated before you turned back to look at him with tight lips before you sighed and took his hand. He gave you a concerned look as you guided him down to the beach where you could have some privacy. “Ronal can’t help me,” you said as you turned to face and gently fiddled with his fingers. “Because I am not sick.”

“It is just us, my mate, you never need lie to me,” he replied softly and used his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m not lying, ‘Teyam,” you breathed and covered his hand with yours before you guided it down to your stomach. “I’m not sick, I’m with child.”

Neteyam froze as he let your words sink in before he softened. “You are with child?” He whispered and stepped closer to you.

You nodded, “it’s horrible timing, but—”

“But nothing,” he smiled. “This is amazing news! We’re having a baby—the first of many I hope.” You were taken by surprise when he picked you up and spun you around, completely elated.

You laughed softly as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders before you patted him. “Enough, ‘Teyam, I’ll be sick again.”

“Right, sorry, my love,” he replied and sat you down, his smile never wavering as he touched your stomach again. “I’m just really happy.”

“I am, too,” you said softly and covered his hand before you kissed him softly. He cupped the back of your head to keep you close, but you both couldn’t stop smiling so you pulled back and rested your hand on his chest, feeling the familiar, comforting beat of his heart.

Neteyam wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer by the small of your back before he rested his forehead against yours. “I would take you here and now on the beach if you let me, my mate,” he hummed.

“Anyone could see, including your parents,” you laughed.

“Then let them see,” he hummed and when he tried to kiss you again, you shoved him back, making him laugh loudly before he pulled you close again, the tips of his fingers brushing the base of your tail, knowing how sensitive it was.

“Once the sickness passes,” you told him and guided his hand back up to your back.

Neteyam softened and he nodded, “of course, my mate. May I at least hold you tonight?”

“I’d expect nothing else,” you smiled and let him lead you back toward your hut. Once Neteyam closed the flap, you rid yourself of your top—another sign of your growing baby was how swollen and sensitive your breasts had become and the weight of the beads irritated you in a way they never had before.

Neteyam groaned low in his throat as he knelt on the bed, “are you sure you don’t want me to pleasure you, my mate?” He asked softly.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you laughed and pulled him down next to you and you laughed when his hand managed to find your breast after he settled behind you. He didn’t try to do more than hold your breast while his other hand rested on your stomach, so you let him as you pressed yourself back against him.

The reef wasn’t the Forest, but it was nice and welcoming and you could see you two raising your children along the blue water and sandy beaches. Neteyam’s tail curled around your ankle and you smiled as you tried to press yourself closer to him. You could feel him smile into your neck and it was easy to fall asleep.

He was your everything.

This family was your everything.

And if you knew what would happen next, you would have fought sleep to soak in the feeling of his arms one last time. You would have memorized the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest. You would have traced every dark line that decorated his body. You would have held him a little longer.

You wouldn’t have taken the moment for granted, expecting thousands more in the coming years.

But you didn’t know what would happen so you didn’t, and the ache of regret would eat at you for the rest of your days.

The bond… it’s a beautiful thing.

Until it isn’t.

The village was devastated by the hunting of the Tulkun by the Sky People. They were their spirit brothers and sisters, and Jake didn’t have to say it for you to know it happened because you were here. They weren’t hunting the Tulkun, they were hunting you. When Jake took the tracker from Neteyam, you took his hand and he tried to reassure you as he squeezed your hand.

“You tell the Tulkun if they’re hit by one of these, they’re marked for death.”

Jake’s words hung heavy in the air. Neteyam gave you a look that told you everything would be okay, but your stomach still twisted. You came to the Metkayina to hide; to keep your people safe. You promised them you were done with war, but the war still followed you—and at the cost of their spirit siblings.

And because nothing ever came easy, Lo’ak was determined to warn Payakan himself. Neteyam followed Lo’ak, knowing his brother better than anyone and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw Lo’ak gathering a saddle for an ilu.

He shook his head, a frustrated smile on his lips, “no way, you’re not going, baby brother.”

Lo’ak wasn’t having any of it. “I have to warn Payakan,” he told his brother firmly.

“No. You have to keep your skxawng ass here,” Neteyam replied, gritting his teeth. For once, could he just listen to him.

But Lo’ak never did. “He’s outcast. There’s no one to warn him but me.”

Neteyam shook his head as he clenched his fist. “Bro, why do you always have to make things so hard?” Neteyam said exasperated as he touched the top of Lo’ak’s’ head, but Lo’ak quickly shoved him off as his eyes hardened.

“No. You mean why can’t I be the perfect son like you, a perfect little soldier. Well, I’m not you, okay? I’m not you. He’s my brother. I’m going.” Neteyam clenched his jaw as he stepped back, his brother’s words cutting him like a knife. If he only knew the weight of his words, but he didn’t and he never would as Neteyam swallowed back the bitter words threatening to spill out and he steeled himself as stepped closer to his brother.

“Oh, he’s your brother? No, I’m your brother,” his voice was hard as he stared Lo’ak down, but Lo’ak didn’t concede and he scoffed before he dove in the water, heading for Payakan and Neteyam knew he had to go after him.

“Neteyam!” You called as you came up behind him and he shook his head.

“He’s going to Payakan,” he told you and you were hot on his heels as he summoned his ilu, as were Tsireya, Kiri, Tuk, Ao’nung and Rotxo. But when you went to summon your own ilu, Neteyam put his hand on your stomach to keep you back. “I need you here where you’re safe,” he told you but you shook his head.

“I’m going, Neteyam.” He opened his mouth to argue, but your look silenced him. Wherever your mate went, you would follow.

His tail flicked as he clenched his jaw before he nodded. “With me then,” he said before he dove into the water and you followed his lead. You quickly settled behind him on his ilu and wrapped your hand around his waist while he held onto the reigns of the ilu with one hand, his other hand reaching back to hold your thigh, keeping you against him as he followed after Lo’ak to Payakan.

By the time you got to Payakan, Lo’ak was struggling against the red tracker buried in Payakan’s back while the others tried to help. You and Neteyam were quick to jump on and help, but the tracker was in deep and you realized quickly that the demon ship was rapidly approaching.

“Call dad,” Neteyam said to Lo’ak. “Just do it.”

He didn’t want to, he knew the trouble he’d be in, so he hesitated before he called Jake. Lo’ak’s words were muffled as you all focused on the tracker. Your heart raced as you kept glancing between it and the demon ship. “Come on, come on, come on,” you said as Neteyam tossed a rope up to Ao’nung who wrapped one end around the tracker while Neteyam wrapped the other end around the reigns of his ilu.

“Please, Eywa, please,” you whispered as you pulled and pulled and finally the tracker gave, and you all fell at the release of tension. Neteyam was quick to gather the tracker as Lo’ak told Payakan to go.

“Go, I’ll draw them away,” Neteyam told you, making your blood go cold. When you opened your mouth to argue, Neteyam shook his head. They were after the tracker and Neteyam couldn’t have it anywhere near you, your baby, or his siblings. “Take Tuk, I’ll see you after.”

You had no choice but to nod and you gathered Tuk and Kiri on Kiri’s ilu and led them into the seaweed for cover, but the submarines followed you. Your mind raced as quickly as your heart as your ilu weaved between plants and leaves, desperate for any cover, but there wasn’t any to be had. There was too many of them.

The submarines swarmed you, forcing you off the ilu and you kept your eyes on Tuk as you swam toward an air pocket, Lo’ak and Tsireya right behind you while Kiri ended up with Ao’nung and Rotxo. “They’re coming,” Tsireya said and you were all quick to dive back under, but it was useless. The submarines could move faster than you could swim.

It was over when they launched the net at you. You didn’t realize it was coming until it was too late, the net already surrounding you and the air left your lungs as you began to panic. Lo’ak managed to escape before it caught him and he pulled at the net trying to rescue you, Tuk and Tsireya, but it was no use. The net scooped you up and dropped you on board the demon ship. Your vision swam as you tried to catch your breath, your lungs burning, and before you knew it, you were bound to the demon ship’s rail.

You watched as Tuk, Tsireya and Lo’ak struggled against the bonds but you knew it pointless. You were stuck. You were stuck and your mate was somewhere out there. You felt useless as the Metkayina attacked the demon ship. When you came and begged for sanctuary, you had promised them there would be no more war and now the war was here and they’d die because of your family.

You looked Tuk and your heart sank at the terror in her eyes, and you were so focused on Tuk you didn’t notice Payakan until he was on top of you, desperate to save Lo’ak.

All hell broke loose after that.

“Don’t watch,” you told Tuk. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” Neteyam had always been her favourite family member, but you were a close second given you were his mate. Her cheeks were wet with tears as she nodded. “Just keep your eyes on me, Tuk,” you repeated.

It was only when Neteyam jumped on board that you were finally able to take a deep breath. A smile played on his lips as he cut your bounds, then Tuk’s, then Tsireya’s before he reached his brother and cut him free. “Who’s the might warrior? Come on, say it,” he grinned as he touched Lo’ak’s head before he turned back to you.

“Bro,” Lo’ak smiled and reached for a gun while Neteyam had his back to him.

“Go, get out of here. Take Tuk. Go,” Neteyam said to you.

“Neteyam—” you tried but he shook his head.

“Go,” he repeated, begging you to listen to him, and you clenched your jaw as you tried to lead Tuk away, and Neteyam kept his eyes on you, desperate to make sure you and Tuk were safe. But when he heard the familiar click of a gun, he turned back to his brother.

“We have to go,” he said but Lo’ak shook his head.

“He has Spider. Come on, bro, we can’t lose him,” Lo’ak said and headed into the ship.

Neteyam protested under his breath before he followed after his brother. Lo’ak always had to make things difficult.

At the same time, they managed to grab Kiri. Tuk’s scream for her sister would forever be imprinted in your memory, but you had to get her to safety. Jake and Neytiri would get Kiri.

Except, Tuk fought your hold on her before she slipped free and headed back for the ship. “Sullys stick together,” she said and you grumbled under your breath before you abandoned your ilu and headed after her, needing to keep her safe.

“This isn’t a good idea, Tuk,” you whisper shouted at her, but she ignored you, desperate to save Kiri, and you were sure to be quiet as you followed her.

“Kiri!” She called when she saw her sister, slipping under the bars as you both tried to break Kiri’s bonds, but it was no use and an Avatar was quick to bind Tuk to the rail next to Kiri before shoving you back into the water. Your heart sank and you wanted nothing more than to jump up and fight and rescue them and keep them safe, but when the bullets hit the water, you knew it wasn’t an option and you called to a nearby ilu and quickly jumped on. You’d have to find another way to rescue them and you circled the water looking for any sign of your mate and Lo’ak.

You were granted a moment of relief when you saw Tsireya, but it was short lived as you realized she was alone and your heart sank. Tsireya pulled her ilu up beside yours and pursed her lips as she shook her head. Neteyam and Lo’ak had to still be on board.

Your heart twisted before a flash of cold went through your body and you gasped for breath under the water, the air bubbling around you as Lo’ak, Spider and Neteyam jumped into the water above you, bullets still raining around you.

No.

You knew it. Before he could even say it, you knew, the freezing cold blooming in your chest that left you gasping for air as you resurfaced in the water.

“That was insane, cous,” the voice was muffled in your ears.

“Neteyam,” you breathed and reached out to him.

“You skxawng, I’ve been shot.”

Panic coursed through your veins and you swore you didn’t breathe as you wrapped your arm around him to keep his head above the water, the normally clear water stained red with his blood. Too much blood.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” you said to both him and yourself, even as the ice in your chest melted to a sharp ache that shot down your arm and Neteyam’s expression twisted in pain.

The panic in Lo’ak’s eyes mirrored your own as he helped you get Neteyam onto the ilu before he pulled you on too. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath. Neteyam was a mighty warrior, the best of his age, but he was weak in his arms.

“They have Kiri and Tuk,” Tsireya tried to tell him, but the words never really processed for him.

“We can’t go back,” he replied and raced for the rocks, Tsireya and Spider holding on to the side if the ilu’s reigns. You kept your hand pressed against Neteyam’s chest as you moved through the water and his hand gripped your wrist tightly, needing to hold on to you, needing to anchor himself to you.

It only took a minute to get to the rocks, but it felt like hours. Lo’ak helped you carry Neteyam as he gritted his teeth in pain. Your chest felt tighter with every passing second and you didn’t know if it was your own anxiety, or your mate slipping through your fingers.

Your hands shook as you moved around him and your ears started to ring as you rolled him onto his side. The shot was clean through.

“It’s almost always better for the bullet to be clean through.” You could hear Jake’s voice in your head and you laid him back and put pressure on his chest as you begged Eywa to help you.

It was almost always better.

Almost.

Neteyam’s hands were coated in his own blood and he looked up at you with wide, terrified eyes before he grasped your bicep, his grip nowhere near as strong as it was when he held your wrist.

“You’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” you told him, willing your voice not to shake so you could be strong for your mate. He breathed your name before he scrunched his face up like he was trying to get away from the pain. “You’re going to be okay,” you repeated before pulling your eyes away from his as Jake and Neytiri settled around you.

“No, no, no,” Jake whispered as he perched across from you.

“Clean through,” you told him before he could ask, your ears back and hands red with Neteyam’s blood, and your heart dropped at the way his ears went back. “No,” you whispered, unable to muster your voice any louder before you looked back at your mate. He had to be okay.

He had to.

“You’ll be okay,” Neteyam told you as he struggled to force air into his lungs.

The ache in your chest began to ease to a fuzzy feeling and you shook your head. “No, no, Neteyam.” You couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t survive it.

“You’ll both be okay,” he breathed, his voice softer than a whisper as he dropped his hand to your stomach.

“I see you; I love you,” you told him, desperately trying not to cry and you pulled one of your hands from his chest to cup his jaw, your thumb tracing the dark line that decorated the arch of his cheek.

“I know, I—”

Neteyam never finished his sentence and his hand dropped from your stomach, leaving a bloody handprint in its wake.

You felt the moment he died.

The warmth, the comfort, the unmistakable feeling of him, fizzled out, replaced instead with an unshakeable feeling of emptiness.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

You were supposed to spend your life with him.

It was supposed to be you and him.

You and him.

You were lightheaded as you settled back on your haunches, your hands red with his blood and Lo’ak caught you as you swayed.

Numb.

The only way to describe the feeling was numb, like he had taken your soul with him when he died, leaving nothing but an empty shell in his wake.

And maybe he had.

The bond is beautiful, that’s what they tell you. But they never tell you of the anguish that comes with it.

You could separate your life into before Neteyam and after Neteyam. The before wasn’t important, it didn’t matter, because Neteyam was your world. He was your everything, your world spun on an axis of you and him. The People say you’re born twice, once when you are born and then again when you find your place among the people, and you were born again the day Neteyam chose you. And now all that was left of your mate was his bloody handprint and the world had the audacity to keep on spinning.

The ringing in your ears drowned out Neytiri’s blood curling scream for her first-born son, and you slouched into Lo’ak as you kept your eyes on Neteyam’s. His beautiful, golden, lifeless eyes.

You didn’t hear Jake ask Lo’ak where his sisters were. You didn’t hear Tsireya tell him they were on the ship. You didn’t hear Spider tell him to follow him. And you certainly didn’t hear Jake tell Lo’ak to stay and that he had done enough. You didn’t hear any of it as you kept looking at your mate, unable to pull your eyes away, no matter how painful it was.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

You only heard Lo’ak tell Tsireya he was going because he pulled back from you, jostling you enough to pull you from your trance to steady yourself. “Lo’ak, no,” she replied desperately, but there was no stopping him as he dove back into the water, leaving you alone with her and your mate’s dead body.

You didn’t know how long you two sat there in the silence, it could have been seconds or minutes or hours, before Tsireya broke it. “We should wash your hands,” she said softly.

You curled your hands into fists. You didn’t want to. Washing the blood off meant losing the only tangible part of your mate you had left. But you knew she was right, so you nodded and you moved on autopilot as she led you to the edge of the water. Your gaze was blank as she washed Neteyam’s blood off your hands, but you drew the line when she reached for your stomach.

“No,” you said sharply and gripped her wrist before she could touch you. Her ears went back as she nodded before she took your hand in hers as you sat back on the rock.

You felt both empty and heavy at the same time as you sat there before Tsireya found her voice again. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, unsure of what else to say.

Your ears went back as you nodded, not trusting your voice. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before you looked over at her. “You and Lo’ak deserve better,” you whispered and touched your stomach, desperate to remind yourself of something worth living for.

Her ears went back even further as her shoulders dropped, but she followed your hand with her eyes. “He—” she started before she stopped herself. “Are you?” She asked instead.

You nodded again before you looked over at her with tears streaming down your cheeks. “I can’t do this on my own. I can’t do this without him.”

Her shoulders dropped as her ears went back again. She couldn’t imagine what you were feeling. “You won’t do this alone,” she told you softly. “You have the village behind you.”

You knew she only meant to comfort you, but her words only reminded you that Neteyam would never meet his child. “But I need him,” you whispered before you pulled your hand from her and pushed yourself away from the water’s edge.

Your heart broke all over again as you looked at your mate, laying there lifelessly, blood staining his beautiful blue skin. His eyes were still open as they stared at the sky above—at nothing. You couldn’t help the sob that escaped you as you looked at him before you reached out and softly closed his eyes. He’d look like he was sleeping, if not for all the blood.

But despite all the blood, you laid down next to him and gently put your head on his chest as you curled into him, your tail wrapping around his ankle.

His chest was silent and still and you wept into him, begging Eywa to give him back.

But she didn’t.

His chest never rose, his heart never beat, his skin never warmed, and his eys never opened.

He was gone.

Your beautiful mate was gone and there was nothing you could do to get him back.

The funeral was harder than you expected, having to say goodbye to his body as you, Jake and Neytiri lowered his body down to the Cove of the Ancestors. You knew that he was gone, that your mate was gone, that it was just a shell of his being, but you still wept, your tears burning your eyes more than the salt ever did.

Your lungs burnt as the air left you as you watched as the cove took his body, wrapping around him as it slowly consumed him, and just like that, he was gone, a piece of the ocean.

The way of water has no beginning and no end. The sea is around you and in you. The sea is your home, before your birth and after your death.

The first thing anyone heard when you resurfaced was your sob and you let Neytiri hug you as you sobbed into her shoulder. “My child,” she whispered as she held you close.

“It’s not fair,” you managed to get out between sobs.

“I know,” she whispered, her heart just as broken as yours.

Eywa holds all her children in her heart, but all you wanted was to hold him in your arms.

And if you thought the funeral was hard, visiting the Spirit Tree was even harder. Jake and Neytiri had gone soon after the funeral but took you days to get the courage to visit, to visit Neteyam.

Your tears disappeared into the salt water as you held your braid in your hand. Your heart ached in your chest, but slowly you let your tendrils connect with the Spirit Tree.

At first, all you felt was warmth as white consumed your vision, but then you were filled with the familiar view of the Forest, of your home. You smiled to yourself as you looked around, and just like that, Neteyam slipped out from between the trees, his battle belt and ikran eyewear on and your eyes watered as you looked at him, every bit the man you loved.

“Neteyam?” You asked and he smiled as he came around you, his tail wrapping around yours in a way he knew comforted you.

“Why are you crying, my mate?” He asked concerned he reached out to cup your jaw.

“I’m just happy to see you,” you told him breathlessly and you committed his smile to memory.

“I’m happy to see you, too, my mate,” he replied and you trailed your eyes over every mark on his body as your heart wept.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Neteyam was your everything, your best friend, your lover, your mate, the father of your child.

From the moment his braid meant yours, you felt him. You felt him in a way no one else could and no one else would. You felt his being. And too soon you had felt him go.

Memories of you two as children, growing up, becoming teenagers, and falling in love, flashed before your eyes and you took water into your lungs as you sobbed, forcing yourself to pull back from the spirit tree and returned to the surface, one hand treading water as you held your stomach with the other.

A boy, you thought suddenly, the Tsahìk abilities you had been training for finally showing themselves. You were having a boy.

The bond is a beautiful thing, but it’s also the most painful thing you ever experienced, the beginning and end of everything, of all that you are.

#neteyam #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #avatar twow spoilers #avatar spoilers #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water imagine #avatar twow imagine #avatar smut #avatar the way of water smut #avatar twow smut #neteyam smut #mine #i really dont know if posting this was a good idea but umm yeah throwing this into the abyss #if this flops i might just delete it lmao

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faeiri-tft · 6 months

Note

PLEASE do the toontown online rant i want it so badly

this post kinda got away from me, and by "got away from me" i mean this 3000 word toontown rant is Part One. there will be a Part Two to this later in which i actually talk about the fanservers i wanted to talk about. anyway let's go

toontown online (tto) was a children's mostly-turn-based subscription MMO released in 2003. after a few years of obviously being on life support, disney gave a one-month notice that tto (and several other games) would be closing on september 19th, 2013. on the same day the game closed, the fan-run server toontown rewritten (ttr) was announced (with multiple other fanservers/fangames/reimaginings being established since), and is a few months away from outliving the original game

see, one thing about tto that allowed fanservers to crop up so quickly and easily was that it had, um, interesting choices. very interesting choices. like, "kids could use a code injector to turn their backyards into giant mashed-together nightmarescapes"-level choices

youtube

(loose video description: a rabbit toon running around a chaotic mismash of rooms, obstacles, and npcs that Should Not Be There. audio caption: Evanescence's "Bring Me To Life".)

but ok let's talk about the actual game first.

toontown online (tto)

the game starts with you creating your player character - you can pick from eventually-9 species, a couple body types, and 2 dozen preset colors. the gender code is a spaghetti nightmare but you won't learn this until the fanservers come about so don't worry about it. you're then taken to the Toontorial, which explains maybe 20% of the game's mechanics before setting you loose into the main game

the toontorial also gives you the basic "plot", such as it is: Toontown is suddenly* under attack by a bunch of boring businessrobots called the Cogs. their goal is to turn toontown into a dreary gray featureless corporate hell; their business activities are so boring that they're physically painful to be around. luckily, they can't take a joke, so the toons have figured out how to defeat them: by playing pranks on them until they laugh so hard they Explode

*originally, the game installer had a little animation giving a backstory for the Cogs' creation. this was never referenced in game, removed pretty quickly, and i think even the devs kinda forgot it existed

that's...pretty much the whole story! in that context, your toon progresses through all of toontown, helping some mostly-pretty-interchangeable shopkeepers, reclaiming buildings from the cogs, eating ice cream, etc. occasionally, the cogs would Come Up With New Tricks (read: major content update) and the toons would Find A Way To Fight Back (read: same major content update). that was the closest thing to Plot, unless you count "the devs scheduled a bunch of invasions of high-tier cogs right before the game's closure". but...i doubt most the kids really expected a Plot. mickey mouse was there

the gameplay:

the Free Account

there were two...pretty different approaches to playing toontown online. when the game launched, there was a 3-day free trial to the entire game, after which you got kicked entirely until you subscribed. at some point, this was changed so that the first area, Toontown Central (TTC), was Always Free - you could do all of that area's quests/"taskline" and limited activities, indefinitely, and in theory this would make you beg your parents for the rest of the game

i have no idea if this actually got more subscriptions or not. from what i can tell it just spawned more warrior cats

(source)

there were. a Lot of warrior cats. there were some other social activities, too, such as Fashion Shows (with your limited range of clothes) and Begging Subscribed Players To Summon Cog Buildings To TTC and Getting Chat Banned. ...however, as one of the subscription kids i didn't really interact with this side of the game, so i'm not the best person to talk about it

2. the Paid Account

mmm look at those crisp clear graphics. hell yes

a subscription account gave you access to this whole map, along with all these areas' tasklines. to progress through the game, you must complete a variety of "ToonTasks" for the Toon Resistance (it's called that. their catchphrase is "Toons of the World, Unite!". you were giving disney money for this). these reward you by increasing your max health (your "Laff Points"), slowly unlocking more combat options, and sending you to different, higher-difficulty areas of toontown

some of these tasks were...longer than others. generally, though, they all boiled down to: "just go fight some cogs"

combat:

(source)

toontown battles are turn-based: the players use their attacks ("gags") first, and then any surviving cogs attack you with, usually, office equipment and puns thereof (unless the cog is e.g. a Loan Shark, in which case they can just fucking bite you). if you defeat a cog, it explodes; if the cog defeats you, you "go sad" and are sent back to the safety of the playground, lose your gag inventory, and can't leave until you heal.

early on, most your battles are 1v1, but later on almost everything is a multiplayer 4-ish-v-4.

an...interesting feature here in the game's early days was that you could only Type Your Own Words to someone who shared their "friend code" with you IRL. otherwise, you had to use this thing:

(source)

you had a set list of phrases you could string together, which generally covered most the things you wanted to say. but it could get frustrating when you wanted to have a real conversation with your toontown friends! so...as the source above mentions, people obviously found ways around the system. turns out that if you let players move objects around their houses, they will use that to Draw Letters and pass their friend code along regardless

eventually - before the warrior cats, of course - disney presumably realized this system was pretty goofy (🥁) , so the game got a real chat, albeit one that functioned on a very strict whitelist. my favorite is that it didn't let you type numbers, however you could just say won too tree for hive etc. like. disney i really don't know what to tell you. anyway

(isn't he charming)

cogs come in levels 1-12, with levels displayed above their heads, and as you'd expect their damage output and HP increase with their level. however, the game doesn't...actually show you cog HP? instead they have a little colored light on their chest that fades from green to red until they explode. you see numbers on all the damage you do, and you see your own HP/laff, but never the cogs'. also lategame cogs are Too Tall For You To See Their Level once they line up for battle (which isn't actually that bad but it's funny). there's a formula for HP per level, but it's never mentioned in-game. i guess someone can teach it to you but then you have to watch them type "a level tin cog has won tree too health" and is that really worth it

(as you can tell i just…don't get this. "my kid is practicing arithmetic with toontown!" - marketing angle expressly denied by god. the stealth edutainment was right there)

anyway! in theory, you have seven base combat options ("gag tracks"), which combine in a variety of ways:

toon-up, which restores your teammates' health;

trap, which does guaranteed high damage but only if someone uses lure;

lure, which stuns the cogs for a few turns and is the only way to make trap work

sound, which does low damage to every cog;

throw, which does medium-high-ish damage to one cog; multiple throws combined give percentage combo damage, and hitting a lured cog will also add percentage "knockback damage";

squirt, which is exactly like throw but less damage;

and drop, which does high damage but cannot hit lured cogs, and has low accuracy unless you hit the cog with something else first

each gag track has 6 levels, which you unlock by using that gag track a bunch. you can't carry as many of the high levels with you - i mean, putting one piano in your backpack makes perfect sense, but two is just silly, right

a few years into the game's lifespan, level 7s were added - these were huge AOE that you could regain with every 500 track EXP. there was also something called "organic gags" to promote the please-log-in-every-day gardening system

every player starts with throw and squirt, and throughout the game you slowly unlock four more gag tracks. your choices are permanent: once you have your six tracks, you're locked out of the seventh forever.

in theory, all of this opens up a huge variety of combat options!

in practice, the battle strategy looks something like this:

use sound

as mentioned, almost all of lategame will be 4v4 battles, which means sound will almost always outdamage everything on earth. you don't even need four foghorns (the highest normal sound gag) to break 200 AOE damage, and the highest health a cog EVER has is 200*. and two of the boss battles can reward you with gag restocks and heals that you can use mid-battle with no consequences (other than having to grind for those rewards a bunch). and failing THAT, you can just...ration your foghorns and take 2 turns to clear a set of cogs, interspersed with healing.

(*okay there was something called "v2.0 cogs" but they were...strange, and we just used sound anyway)

sure, once level 7s were added you could use those occasionally. and you could fall back on lure+throw if you didn't want to use your sound restocks. but even then, for most of tto's existence there was something called the "knockback bug" which. well. just look at it

(link for transcript. it's tvtropes sorry)

if you are a target-audience eight-year-old this translates to "lure + throw will only do enough damage if the cogs Feel like it." like it's really just insult to injury at this point. this was the result of One misplaced variable and was not fixed until the game closed

in the tto era, if you didn't have sound, you were kinda doomed to be kicked out of every fight forever

(bonus fun fact: there were Four entire battle themes and they were 40-second midi loops. let me out)

the bosses:

each of the four cog departments has a Boss Cog. to face off against them, you have to assemble a cog disguise and collect enough merits/stock options/whatever to be allowed into the boss's office.

(pictured: your convincing disguise)

when you enter, your disguise pops off due to Reasons, and you have to fight through...a bunch of waves of normal cogs. it's basically a really long normal battle. once the minions are dealt with, you have to, inexplicably, do a live-action battle against the boss themself:

youtube

(loose video description: four toons defeating the CFO by using magnet cranes to hit him in the face with safes for 32 seconds.)

the live-action rounds aren't supposed to go this quickly, but it's still...kinda strange? certain reoccurring game areas require Parkour, but there are no battles like this outside of the Four bosses. the CFO's room is the only place you see these cranes and they have A Lot Going On. the other 3 bosses have their own unique weird mechanics. before the first boss was added we neither had nor needed the ability to Jump. it's just weird

once you've defeated the boss, you're given a reward of varying usefulness (the best/most unbalanced reward type is Unites, which are a free heal or gag restock you can do inside or outside of battle. essentially lategame toons can simply choose not to die. riv2u etc.)

and, um. then you get some more merits/stock options/whatever and do it again. and again. and again. and again. and agai

the grind:

so the thing is that tto was a subscription mmo. every addition to the game had to be measured, above all, in terms of "how can we best get kids to beg their parents to give us money." this especially shows in the suit grind:

(source/source)

you have to defeat each boss 78 times in order to get all their laff points - and as you proceed, you have to defeat an increasing amount of cogs to even be allowed into the boss (although once you max you get in for free).

by far the easiest way is to run through the designated HQ facilities - basically, cog fights interspersed with some platforming or minigames. you only collect your merits/whatever at the Very End of the facility. the only way to increase what a facility gives you is if your last battle ends during an "invasion" - a timed period where One Specific Cog replaces all street cogs, usually summoned with boss rewards.

the sellbot HQ grind isn't so bad. bossbot HQ - the endest-game HQ - frequently requires you to do an hour-long facility and on six separate occasions you have to do seven of them. if the invasion ends before your final battle, you have to sit around until someone summons another. if you lose your internet connection because it's 2008, or if your parents make you come to dinner, or if hacking or the game's general bugginess cause a server reset because you're probably in the busiest district for the invasion bonus, you have spent that Entire Hour On Nothing. the CEO (bossbot cog boss) probably also takes an hour because you and your fellow players are 10

this shit, combined with laff points locked behind gardening (time-gated), racing and golfing (multiplayer minigames with absurd requirements), and fishing (RNG-based with some fish being absurdly rare. i watched my mom fish for one every day for a month), meant that maxing a toon took Years, if you managed it ever.

it wasn't, um. it wasn't good

ok so what else is wrong with this game:

i had "aged out of the game" (lol) by the early '10s, so i'm not the best person to do a writeup of the hacking/scripting situation of those days. that said, what i'm going to do is give you a few examples, and i want you to just...look at them

(source)

(source). early '10s youtube was funny i'm trying to decide if i miss it

(source). fun thing to note here is that other players had collision, so a swarm of t-posing toons could just barricade the gag shop if they wanted to

youtube

(video description: toon who has Replaced His Head Model With An Anime Logo throwing thousands of jellybeans at everyone) (cw mild flashing just in case? and also the feather headband accessory)

i should note that the Bring Me To Life vid i started with was client-side, meaning only the player could see their technicolor hellscape. this guy's face was server-side. i do Not Think you should be able to do that

youtube

(video description: a player demonstrating use of a bot to get into the nutty river district, followed by other players using it to go to different game areas)

the above video was posted on august 17th, 2013. if you don't want to watch an Unregistered Hypercam 3 recording at about 5 frames per second, what's going on here is:

the player goes to a specific location and says a specific speedchat phrase.

a bot toon teleports to their location and provides some prompts on how to use it

the player tells the bot, via speedchat, to teleport to the (currently closed from the outside) busiest district so the player can follow

these "taxi toons" were server-sided, persisted across server resets, were made by a future fanserver dev, had younger kids referring to them as a "glitch" as if this were something that could Accidentally Happen, and stayed functional until the game closed

like...a lot of the "hacking" was just baby's first script download. this one - afaict also created by the laughing man head guy - is like...the fact that after years of no substantial game updates, someone effectively programmed their own "QOL feature" (note: not actually good for the poor mid-00s server being turned into a clown car) into a silly disney MMO and it just fucking sat there for a year is just. it's just.

i don't know what this is. this is not Playing The Game Toontown Online. this is nothing. this is everything. there are comments from 2013 on some of these videos saying stuff like "hackers killed toontown", but your game cannot have this happen if it is not already dying

and, like...it was. i'm not sure how many moderators there were by this point, but at the very end of tto, the number of active devs was One. the original devteam recently brought this up at the 20th anniversary celebration: devs just...slowly started getting pulled from the game, one at a time. there were a few updates after bossbot HQ - Field Offices, which i've basically never heard anything good about in their tto form ever; the Silly Meter, a yearly event...thing whose main function was to add unskippable dancing-inanimate-object cutscenes to your street battles; Parties, which...yknow parties were okay actually. i accept parties. but they weren't exactly a Major Game Update like the ones that had come before. in 2011 we gained the ability to Wear Hats. in 2012 the test server got some actual QOL updates that never made it to the main game; the final test server update was some maintenance in february, and then nothing for 18 months. disney was not providing enough resources to address the scripting because disney was not providing enough resources to address toontown. imagine being the last dev standing on an MMO that was older than some of its players, was losing its business model to mobile gaming, and spent most of its life falling apart at the seams. just imagine it, for a second

it couldn't have kept going, not like this.

on august 20, 2013, the closing announcement came: we had a month left of toontown online. the test server shut immediately; subscription refunds went out, and the game became actually F2P for the month; the part of the announcement that went like "we're shifting our focus to other games!" made a bunch of twelve-year-olds hate club penguin as if club penguin wouldn't also close in a few years; all the holiday events went off at once; and...

there wasn't a "thanks for playing!" popup. everyone online just got kicked, all at once. it was finally over

hey wait.

#toontown #toontown online #tto #tft talks #tft stuff #<- this goes in that tag i think #this was like. enrichment. thank you

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saintsenara · 15 days

Note

you said “the eleven-year-old riddle, for example, is written in a way which suggests he has an accent and uses words and expression which would be understood as working class”. Can you elaborate on what you mean? I love your meta btw. You are brilliant

thank you for two tmr-related follow-up questions to the slughorn/snape bonanza meta, anons!

[and thank you for calling me "brilliant", anon no. 1. picture me kicking my little feet in the air and chirping like a cat which has just seen a bird outside.]

how is the eleven-year-old riddle shown to be common as muck?

besides the fact he lives in an orphanage.

it's things like this:

“You can’t kid me! The asylum, that’s where you’re from, isn’t it? ‘Professor,’ yes, of course — well, I’m not going, see? That old cat’s the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they’ll tell you!”

while none of this is in a demonstrably non-standard dialect of british english [i.e. riddle doesn't use contractions like "ain't" or "innit", or say "i never did nothing to little amy benson..."] it's definitely a way of phrasing his speech - especially when coupled with the fact that this quote reads like he's speaking really quickly, and he's described as looking "furious" - which would be considered uncouth, especially in the 1930s. [not big fans of emotional volatility, the posh].

his refusal to speak deferentially to dumbledore - and the fact that when he's eventually induced to call him sir he is described as being "unrecognisably polite" - is a similar indication that he doesn't exist as a child in the sort of context where he's forced to perform more refined manners in order to get what he wants.

[the sixteen-year-old riddle is considerably more obsequious, because he recognises that the way to get things out of e.g. slughorn is to comport himself like his upper-class peers.]

and he also - which is iconic of him - calls mrs cole a bitch here. "cat" is a slang term for a gossipy or meddling woman - and while it doesn't quite have the full heft of "bitch" [you find it used with impunity by middle-class women in pretty much every piece of literature written pre-1950...], it's incredibly rude for a child to say it to a stranger who he assumes is a doctor.

riddle does also use non-standard english - for example, when he says of dumbledore's wand:

“Where can I get one of them?”

[the correct form would be "one of those".]

it's this which really hammers home - beyond the ways in which it can be inferred from the context of the setting and the scansion of his [and mrs cole's, they speak fairly similarly] speech - that he has a london accent which would be understood, especially when combined with his second-hand possessions and his general rowdiness, as working-class by the sort of people who otherwise seem to end up in slytherin.

exactly what accent this would be depends on where we think the orphanage is. the closest we come to locating it in canon is that riddle buys [or, let's be real, steals] his diary from a shop on "vauxhall road". this isn't a real place, but vauxhall is an area of south london.

but most people - including me - usually place it in east london [i like, as i've said elsewhere, to put it on dorset street in spitalfields, which is the site of one of jack the ripper's most brutal murders]. this would have him born within the sound of bow bells, meaning he'd have every right to call himself a cockney and would undoubtedly speak with a cockney accent.

the south london and east london accents are recognisably distinct from one another [and from north and west london accents], but they would both be understood as common in the time period, when both anyone born into an upper-class or upper-middle-class background and anyone who aspired to be thought of as having done so would speak with [something as close as they could to] received pronunciation.

why do i think slughorn remains chill until after riddle refuses his job offers?

riddle's conversation with slughorn about horcruxes happens at some point in his sixth year - the academic year 1943-1944. we know this because he's a prefect - but not yet head boy, because he's killed his father [his second victim - the riddles are killed in the summer of 1943, after myrtle is killed at the end of the 1942-1943 school year], and because it just makes sense from a narrative standpoint for this pivotal moment in his life to take place at the same time harry's own life is transforming.

my presumption is that the chat happens during the first term, and that riddle doesn't actually create the diary horcrux until afterwards - so let's say the conversation happens c. november 1943 [when riddle would still be sixteen - the age the diary tells us he is]. slughorn then spends a full eighteen months continuing to support and favour him - advocating for him to be head boy, attempting to set him up in prestigious jobs, presumably being willing to support his application to teach defence against the dark arts - after he's aware that he's not opposed to a bit of splitting the soul.

i don't imagine for a second slughorn would ever have turned him in - he is, after all, fundamentally a coward, and he's clearly worried that he'd get in trouble himself for discussing horcruxes with a pupil - but if he were properly troubled by the discussion i think his behaviour would resemble how he treats harry while he's trying to collect the memory: unfailingly polite and unflappably jolly, but still mysteriously unable to be cornered alone.

and - actually - i think this is the specific source of slughorn's shame over the incident, and it's why i really don't like the memory acquisition scene - "you have no idea how frightening he was" - in the half-blood prince film. slughorn is clearly rattled by the conversation, but he then seems to manage to convince himself that everything's fine and riddle was just being a teen show-off with a morbid streak.

[and the adult voldemort - for his part - evidently has no suspicion at all that slughorn took the conversation seriously enough to waver in his cowardice and admit what he'd told him.]

but riddle refusing to accept his help in securing a job - and, therefore, refusing to enter into the sort of patron-client relationship slughorn canonically establishes with pupils from non-elite backgrounds - is riddle indicating that he refuses to be restrained by the norms of wizarding society.

it's a big "fuck you" to slughorn from the perspective of social convention notwithstanding the other context - a presumed-to-be-muggleborn orphan asserting that he can make it in the world on his own terms without tugging his forelock to the pureblood elite - but it's also evidence that he has no intention of finding himself in a situation where slughorn can control him personally.

it means that slughorn finds himself in a position in which he can't dangle the threat of reporting him to the aurors for [conspiracy to commit] murder/taking an interest in dark magic we can presume is illegal unless riddle does something he wants. and it makes it impossible for slughorn to continue convincing himself their conversation was purely macabre curiosity.

slughorn can convince himself that the eighteen-year-old riddle - the polite and brilliant head boy who undoubtedly continued to attend slug club meetings without incident in the period 1943-1945 [since him being barred from such occasions would have tipped him off that slughorn was worried] - can still be treated in a way which has served him well since he started teaching, and can have his... odder aspects constrained by the pressure of wizarding social convention.

the twenty-year-old riddle - on his own in his knockturn alley shop, with its dark reputation, and apparently uninterested in settling down nicely under the thumb of a respectable patron - cannot be.

and slughorn is terrified of this - and the repercussions it has the potential to bring upon him - but he's also going to be offended by it -and i think it's really interesting to skewer his canonical dislike of being associated with death eaters a little by playing with that offence: i.e. that he's not only unimpressed because lucius malfoy's in azkaban, but because of the whole bending-and-scraping-and-saying-my-lord act.

#asks answered #asenora meta #tom riddle #lord voldemort #surprise! it's the class system!

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paganminiskirt · 7 months

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I love reading your analyzing of Coyle. I wondered if you had any thoughts on his sexuality? (I mean I have a damn spread sheet myself, but you're so much better at words and really great at psychoanalyzing lol). I've described him as being "the straightest gay man I've ever seen" to a few people now and eventually the "get" it.

(CW: discussions of canon typical sexual and racial violence, slavery, internalized homophobia, domestic violence and femicide. One of the linked videos also discusses fascism using disturbing transphobic rhetoric as an example.)

Thank you for your kind words, it’s really nice to know my ramblings are resonating with someone! Discussion should be allowed to emerge naturally, but I think much of the debate that arose from the revelation of Coyle’s character was removed from the context of the oppressed groups being commented on by the text. I say that mainly in reference to people of color, since the KKK represents a cultural trauma which is inextricably attached to blackness, but the statement applies to queer people as well. That very Klan was almost extinguished in the 1870s until it was revitalized half a century later by a film, of all things: media is obviously important. There’s much more that can be, and to an extent needs to be, said about this story beyond rehashing “it is/is not okay to hornypost about this” ad nauseam.

So let’s get this out of the way: I think Coyle was deliberately being written as queer. The ethics of incorporating LGBT characters in a setting so obsessed with the grotesque are questionable (you can read more perspectives on that here and here,) but I think there was intention behind the decision to depict him this way, whether it's "good representation" or not.

One of his defining traits is that he habitually deploys lewd, effeminate language to intimidate and dehumanize his victims: “alluring piglet,” “honey,” “beautiful/sexy b*tch,” “darling,” “sweet, ripe young things" and the like. You could argue that is solely a degradation tactic rather than a direct indicator of his sexual preference, and he does seem to do it primarily to scare you. But a big part of the horror in Kill the Snitch is that Coyle is very unembarrassed about how much pleasure he gets out of subjecting you to that degradation. (“You lick my boot, maybe I let you up.”) The innuendo he taunts the Reagents with is unaffected by their gender presentation, and The Snitch is a fixed character presented as a cis man who Coyle treats with just as much aggressive leeriness. From there, it's difficult to interpret him as straight.

And since Coyle is one of the main villains of the game, I think I would be remiss if I argued that his bi/pansexuality is a thematically insignificant byproduct of his broader characterization as a sadist. That conclusion certainly presents itself: even if his queerness is loudly implied, it isn’t commented on directly by the text the way other aspects of his character are, like racism and uxoricide. The closest we get to a clear, unmistakable identification of his sexuality comes in the form of his aforementioned attitude towards The Snitch.

While the Reagents are interchangeable grunts, The Oogie Boogie Man Snitch is Coyle's own prisoner, and as such we witness him compound the usual routine of sexualized cruelty with repeated assertions of possession, calling him things like “toy” “mine” and “property” to emphasize a sense of ownership. He comes completely undone when the Reagents electrocute him to death, exploding into thwarted, miserable rage like a kid watching their sandcastle get kicked to shit (“No! FUCKING NO! He was mine!”) and throwing out all of his beliefs at once as this jumbled, fascistic mess; “anarchist pinko fucks” this and “country’s going to shit” that.

Perhaps the most telling line about their dynamic is this one: “Jesus Christ you look like my second wife, you know that? Spittin' image. Woman got me 'bout as hot as Missouri asphalt.” The only time we see how Coyle interacts with people on an even playing field is in the files, when it’s mentioned that he killed two of his fellow soldiers when serving in the army & brutalized a murkoff agent interviewing him. The social dominance he has over people like The Snitch and his wives seems to be the only way he’s capable of conducting interpersonal relationships on a vaguely emotional level. Otherization, fuckability, and the need for corrective shame/subordination are all intertwined in Coyle's head, muddling together to form his notion of natural hierarchy: one which is incoherent, self-serving, and more about appearances than anything else. (“I know what you did. I just need to hear you say it.”)

And the importance placed on appearances isn’t just something that Leland happens to believe. In the era when this game takes place, the electric chair was at peak popularity as a form of “humane” capital punishment: in reality, it was a callous technological repackaging of the methods of execution which came before it, namely the (distinctly racialized) hanging/lynching. These methods were designed to reinforce social hierarchy by staging voyeuristic displays of dehumanization, and were levied with particular barbarism against people of color. There’s a catalog of horror stories I could insert here about white supremacy and the electric chair, but that’s another post entirely. What I want to establish is that:

A. It's easy to interpret The Snitch’s execution (and the Reagent’s forced participation in it) as a symbolic enforcement of Murkoff’s construction of social dominance, akin to capital punishment or lynching/state sponsored terrorism. B. Men like Coyle were categorically responsible for orchestrating executions like the one in the game, and the fact that he gets so angry and addled about it even though he’s ostensibly a follower of their doctrine speaks to the nature of his ideology.

Though a lot of real world topics get touched on by Coyle's dialogue, it certainly isn’t 100% down-to-earth social critique. Many of his lines invite you to laugh at him (“It's hurtful when you disrespect the badge. I have feelings, too”/”Ain't you slicker'n a can of mashed assholes”) and his crimes themselves are, at times, overblown and ridiculous. He's a caricature of institutional violence and injustice, not a straight faced example of it. No, the realistic part of Coyle’s storyline is how the power structures of 1950s America both protected him from consequences and deliberately encouraged him to degenerate. I’ve alluded to this before: it’s one of my favorite things about Trials.

He was sent to military school because of his violent tendencies and joined the marines to avoid investigation after killing his first wife, but once he had the Police Department to shield him his behavior escalated in severity so much so that it attracted the attention of an even worse organization. The process was Military School → Ku Klux Klan → Marines → Police Department → Murkoff. This facet of the story was always there, but the newly released comic really hammers in the point, that Coyle - infantile, nonsensical, vulgarly abusive and utterly unworthy of authority - was never a barely tolerated outlier or a well kept secret within the systems he budded up from. The files directly attach his klan involvement to police work even as he's described as a “good cop:” because there were no good cops in Blackwell, because good cops aren’t real. US Law Enforcement can be traced back to early southern slave patrols, they've had a handshake agreement with the Klan for decades, and you need look no further than the recent Minneapolis Police Department exposé to see how they operate in the modern world - and this game is set sixty years before 2023. Horrifying, yeah?

Understanding cops themselves to be fundamentally immoral and unjust, by the time we meet him in the game, Coyle isn’t even a competent cop in terms of his willingness to enact unjust aims. Yes he is brutal, yes he is racist, yes he clings to the childish, cowardly belief in immutable superiority found in actual modern fascists - but the ouroboros of psychosexual issues driving him to behave the way he does take precedence over his purported devotion to any belief system, to such a degree that he isn’t even acting in explicit defense of an institution anymore. That job, to defend the current institution, is what the Reagents are being trained for: the same ones he deems subhuman and, most tellingly, “perverted.”

One thing that makes Coyle’s whole presence in Kill The Snitch so surreal and disorienting is how manufactured and aimless his job as The Snitch’s defender really is. The man play acts an interrogation of someone who will never see trial, referencing vice squads, courts and elections that are nowhere to be found in the Sinyala facility - even though a different line of his mentions how they “don’t favor courts in these parts.” So, he’s directly contradicting himself. When the Snitch dies, he goes “NO! NO! I'll never... God DAMNIT,” not even finishing his own sentence about what it is he apparently needed The Snitch for.

The man obviously thinks otherwise, but he’s a make-believe cop, a test dummy for trainees to be pitted against ala shencomix’s professional hater. Though nowhere near as disenfranchised, Coyle is a puppet in Murkoff’s trials as much as the Reagents are, all his nasty, grandiose rhetoric ultimately amounting to hot air: and unlike the Reagents, this does not end with him being reborn. He lacks the overarching purpose of eventual service to a greater cause that they have.

And therein lies the self-destroying prophecy inherent to his understanding of reality. You can argue that Coyle is aware (subconsciously or otherwise) that there exists the potential for him to be otherized, and by extension subordinated, for an immutable part of himself which is directly attached to his sexuality and masculinity. I’d be surprised if he wasn't, considering how loudly the prejudices of the culture he arose from are relayed to the audience. The fear that comes from that knowledge gives birth to an obsession with categorism, shame, and “justice:” which he rationalizes as an immutable aspect of reality by connecting it with the natural phenomenon of lightning. (“I used to stand in a storm and watch the lightning strike the plains and I would think, "well there you go." That's justice. Sometimes the finger of God reaches down and touches you. But you never know which finger it is you're gonna get.”)

This leads to violence which he is constantly rewarded for: and because it’s the only viable outlet he has for exercising those very issues which he was trying to avoid confronting in the first place… he overindulges. Loses all interest in presenting the rhetoric coherently, in favor of chasing the immediate release that cruelty provides with ever-increasing vigor. (Funny how he calls the Reagents “dope addicted” too. Mr. Sony VPL strikes again!)

But in the end, Coyle is worthless. He’s a tool, designed to be overcome. It's a similarly symbolic, utilitarian role to that of The Snitch, which potentially feeds into his perverse sense of protectiveness over him, but the people who are coming out the other end of this with a job to do in the real world are the Reagents. People he looks down on, people he terrorizes, people he’s so desperate to bend to his will. He’s like... white chauvinism revealed as senseless, small and disgusting, condemned to chase its own tail & buckle under its own weight no matter how hard it shakes it's fist at the sky.

And in a series so fixated on delusion and the disintegration of the self, the nugget of reality within that was thrilling to see on screen. 10/10, would cringe at again.

#theartof-p #leland coyle #officer coyle #outlast trials #murkoff corporation #I’m feeling a need to include a “the north is awful too” caveat #but I recently found out some relatives had a cross burned on their lawn.#in the urban North. in the 80s.#so it’s probably just my own biases speaking lmao #i’m p sure it doesn’t sound like I’m singling out the rural south here but lmk if you think otherwise #lmk whatever you have to say #anyways. Long live Leland Coyle’s hideous deplorable ass!!!

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probablyhuntersmom · 1 year

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A Bit of Mental Health 101 with Hunter: Analyses by a Therapist

Disclaimer: This is in no way a substitute for therapy: it's only psychoeducation. Please consult a therapist and/or hotline and get the help you need if you are experiencing mental health difficulties, especially if experiencing distress or issues that feel unmanageable.

Warnings: themes such as abuse and trauma ahead.

I thought to share some pieces of info from a few counselling theories and general mental info, which are way easier to grasp when I tie them to specific Hunter scenes. These might lead you to some realizations about yourself or someone else, which you could then bring up with a therapist if you like.

1. Survival Stances/Communication Stances: You might spot these in yourself or those around you. They are responses to stress and anxiety when you interact with other people. There are 5 in total; the first 4 are indicators of low self-worth and are where our childhood wounds are; the last one means you are healthily able to be present with difficult emotions and respond with relative calmness and clear thinking. Each one involves whether or not you are acknowledging three things: yourself (Self), the people you're interacting with (Other), and viewing the situation clearly (Context). The stances come from a theory called Satir Transformational Systemic Therapy (STST), or the Satir Model, invented by Virginia Satir who earned the title of "Mother of Family Therapy".

Placating:

It disregards Self, but recognizes Other and Context. You may blame yourself for something that isn't your fault at all. This is very common, especially with many parents in society who fail to acknowledge their child's pain, and who raise parentified children. As you can imagine, the way Belos raised Hunter would make the poor kid quite a Placater.

Blaming:

The opposite of Placating. Disregards the Other, but recognizes Self and Context. Definitely rare in Hunter, but being raised in the toxic environment of the castle and holding a high rank would've contributed to these tendencies. Maybe the closest thing would be him defensively snapping at Alador as shown above. What he could've chosen to do instead was calmly persuade Alador that he was in fact, not eager to return to Belos and why, independent of what Alador might think. But to do that in a calm manner would've been tough since the Day of Unity affected everyone.

Super-Reasonable:

Disregards Self and Other, only paying attention to Context. Also very common in my experience because we as a whole are a emotions-adverse, grief-adverse and find-quick-solutions/resolve-inconveniences-quickly sort of society. Emotions aren't often given the space they need to be experienced. In the screenshot above, Hunter is emotionally detaching from the validity of his own betrayal-related pain (disregarding Self), saying Gus is foolish and that his points aren't valid (disregarding Other), and trying to use pure cold logic to intellectualize why there's no point of paying attention to what they actually need in their dynamic.

Irrelevant:

The opposite of Super-Reasonable. It disregards all three areas, and people in this category are usually the class clowns or jokester types. Their stress response is to try and lighten the mood in the room quickly with something off-topic so that they don't need to feel anxiety. I haven't noticed it in obvious ways in Hunter, but when he quickly cuts Luz off from potentially mentioning that he's a grimwalker above, trying to put on a big smile and act all jolly/positive...it's the closest he's gotten. It would become an issue if repeated jokester behavior to avoid what needs addressing, is not benefitting his relationships with people who are actually trustworthy.

Leveling:

The healthy stance out of all 5. You are a Leveler if you can be calm, firm and understanding of the current situation, and (the following is to minimize defensive reactions from the other party) respectful of both your views and other people's views, when in conflict with others. However, obviously you should never remain in a conflict if it gets actually dangerous for yourself. (Obviously I would tell anyone to run from Belos! He is physically dangerous, not just emotionally, and we know he won't listen to reason. In the above situation, poor Hunter was in a crazy life-threatening situation)

Two important notes: - Placaters and Blamers may unhealthily attract one another in romantic relationships, friendships, family dynamics, work relationships. I'm not too sure about Super-Reasonable and Irrelevant people attracting one another, though. - However, we can have all of these 5 in ourselves, e.g. you can be either a Placater or Blamer in different situations.

2. Self-Leadership: Draws from the Internal Family Systems (IFS) theory. When we are in touch with what this theory refers to us our Self, it's the best version of us, and you could also say it's your true self. It is split into 8 parts which mean it's often conveniently called The 8C's of Self-Leadership. I guess when you are able to access all 8 of them, you are at a point of self-actualization. I like how it's nicely split up so you can work on whichever areas you feel might need to discuss, with a therapist.

In Hunter's case, you can spot improvements in mental health when he gets in touch with these qualities (man, thank you Dana, directors, writers, storyboarders, animators of the show..the fact that I can easily find which frames to use shows how much quality the writing and visuals have):

Clarity

Calmness

Compassion

Connectedness

Courage

Confidence

Curiosity

Creativity

3. Psychological Flexibility

A pretty neat theory called Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) has the above title as its main goal. (The person behind this theory wrote a book called The Happiness Trap, that goes into why we have unnecessary additional stress by expecting/pressuring ourselves to be happy all the time: instead of the better option of embracing the downs in life too, not just the ups... the book is free if you find it on PDFDrive dot com..)

ACT places plenty of importance on the specific words we use when having our own self-dialogue, which forms what we think of ourselves etc. If a therapist uses the ACT route, they hope to guide their clients towards the three pillars of ACT: being Open, Centered, and Engaged. Each pillar splits into two areas...so it's a total of six aspects of psychological flexibility which I'll list below:

Pillar 1: "Open"

A) Acceptance (its negative opposite is Experiential Avoidance) The simplest way one might break down this one is it's about embracing your demons, not judging them: the parts of you that you wish weren't there e.g. the parts that feel like a burden, any private experience you've had that you never wanted. When I think of this, these precise frames of Hollow Mind and Thanks to Them came into my head:

This concept operates on the belief that any emotion (like, especially what Hunter will feel when he looks back on the above memories) wants to be seen and is welcomed, like a guest. Even if the scarier, more unruly guests are welcomed and not turned away (which sometimes cannot be done alone: you may need the safety of the therapy room or trusted loved ones), it offers the best chance that they'll soften and become less unpleasant over time.

B) Cognitive Defusion This process is to help us not be fused with the content of our unpleasant thoughts, but to instead just notice that the process of thinking is happening in ourselves (see the difference?). This doesn't mean such thoughts are not allowed or not valid, though. A great analogy to explain how getting consumed by such thoughts and feelings is: if you hold out your hands close enough in front of your face or completely cover your eyes with them, you can't see the rest of your surroundings. If you spread them out and move them further from your face, you can see the rest of the room. Defusion techniques help you get more unstuck from discomfort and remind you of e.g. you are not your thoughts and therefore not fused with them forever, and other things exist outside of them. Very important if Hunter ever has experiences like this again, so that his moments of being inevitably triggered are less intense and their duration is shortened significantly:

It'll make the ride of being sucked into terrible distress e.g. future nightmares and potentially vivid trauma reminders, a less bumpy one.

Pillar 2: "Centered"

C) Contacting the Present Connecting with the present moment, based on this theory, is to restore control. Having awareness of your senses and being able to be grounded. Instead of being caught up in rumination about the past or future. There are certainly times where the right thing to do is reflect on the past or plan for the future, but during periods where being present would serve us better, that's the time to use this skill. Hunter was already incorporating this below, grounding himself by pacing back and forth. He was in an actually dangerous situation with immediate threats, as a literal survival mechanism for a crisis, so it was on a more extreme scale than us applying in it our everyday modern life:

(my personal method is having the right kind of music in my earphones to keep me totally present)

D) Self-as-Context (its negative opposite is Self-as-Content) Involves being in touch with something called your Observing Self. An easy way to explain this is, imagine you are a big sky: containing clouds that represent your thoughts and emotions. It can certainly feel like you're caught up in a cloud if a particularly tough emotion arises, but practicing this, whereby you become aware you're the big container with these separate smaller things inside, may help. An example of applying this is your therapist guiding you to say to yourself, "I am having the thought...that I am a failure" and to internalize that statement. This kind of detachment can be helpful because it could lead on to further positive reframing, and reinforcing that reframing, as you heal more.

Intuitively I think Hunter could be in this mode (though he wouldn't be able to put a name to it without a therapist telling him) when he started to feel better after reaching out to Willow. Having a good needed cry, he was less fused with excruciating grief:

Pillar 3: "Engaged"

E) Values (negative opposite: Lack of Direction) You get to choose what values matter to you. They go deeper than goals you want to achieve, they are qualities you want to align your life with, for life to be meaningful. One value that will certainly matter to Hunter a lot is based on this:

Kindness/Gentleness. Making sure others are cared for and protected.

F) Committed Action (negative opposite: Inaction/Being Stuck) Taking action to live out the values you choose. Pretty straightforward:

4. Aspects of Grief (especially, but not limited to, Acute Grief):

Searching Behavior

Perfectly normal especially in early grief, even though the griever may think they're going crazy. You may catch glimpses of a lost loved one, or reminders of whatever you have lost, on the bus or at the grocery store, in dreams or in other places. Your brain will be thinking thoughts like "Is that them?"..."That's them! It has to be!"..."All that didn't really happen, did it?" because it can be so painful to lose a relationship (not limited to just literal people. It could be a home or job, etc) that you have to still believe on some level that it hasn't been lost. Such numbing and denial is to provide mental cushioning for your mind, or else it would be overwhelmed. This behavior should decrease over time, but there shouldn't be any expectation of it totally vanishing.

Linking Objects

Objects that are reminders of a lost loved one, and/or which belonged to them, to help the griever feel close to the lost loved one. Usually it's too painful in early grief days to have a high awareness of such objects. Maybe there are other objects that Hunter would want to keep, which Flapjack used or perched on often. And if Hunter wishes, he can create new linking objects from scratch as well, to keep remembering.

5. Self-Interruption A concept I love from the theory of Emotion-Focused Therapy (EFT). Because one of the seven therapists I've tried taught me about this, it was one of the first few milestones in my own recovery.

Notice that this boi switched quickly from being puzzled about something he wasn't even entirely sure was negative, to bounce back and point out what went fine. While he later said "I miss knowing who I'm supposed to be" which was great, there is plenty of room for him to lean into the agency he has had since Camila first welcomed him into her home. I think we self-interrupt pretty often. Self-interrupting means we restrict ourselves from expressing what we feel, we self-censor and disown the important parts of us that have natural emotional responses towards e.g. being treated unfairly. Society's emphasis on staying positive and not being a burden likely reinforces this, and I'm sure Belos disregarded and invalidated his emotions enough that he'd feel he isn't allowed to complain about most things.

A healthy upbringing would mean the freedom to express your needs and desires. It's also perfectly fine and even necessary for Hunter to reflect on positive memories he's had. I'd say it only becomes an issue if he keeps doing stuff like below and if he is cut off from recognizing his own emotional needs:

(which I don't think he'll continue doing as much: he seems to be quite on track towards healthily exploring what he has been through).

So yeah. This got on the lengthy side but I hope it was informative! Which parts stood out to you the most? Feel free to comment and share your own thoughts~

#toh hunter #golden guard #toh analysis #the owl house #loz writes a meta #mental health 101 with Hunter #long post

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inbarfink · 8 months

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I guess the only thing that actually bothers me about the whole ‘David Theory’ thing in DHMIS, is how, like… I think it leads people to examine that aspect of the Death episode entirely as a Way to Decode the Secret Lore of DHMIS and stuff - and to kinda ignore the Meaning and Context of it in the actual episode?

Like, whatever or not the ‘David’ Stuff means something for some sort of Hidden Grand Narrative, I think it’s also important to remember that it also has a very important emotional theme within just the context of the episode itself.

Because the whole thing about Duck being buried under the name David and being memorialized with things he never did… leaving aside any possible lore implications, this is first and foremost a really poignant message about how much it hurts to see the people closest to you being remembered wrong.

It is not uncommon for grieving friends and/or family to watch their deceased loved one get ‘twisted’ after their death, being immortalized as something different from what they remember, something they know is wrong. Whatever it is because of refusing to speak ill of the dead, or trying to fit them into a more comfortable narrative, or doing a Performative Mourning for a person you didn’t actually know well, or people just refusing to accept the person the deceased actually was...

(Like, okay, let's not beat around the googly-eyed anthropomorphic bush. I don't know if that was the creator's intention but this is a VERY common experience for queer folks. Like, 'being buried and mourned under the wrong name' isn't just some sort of absurd cartoony exaggeration - that is a real terrible thing that happens to real trans people!)

And it hurts because memorialization SHOULD be an important part of their healing process. It should be comforting that your loved ones will live on in the memories of people, that you can reminisce and commiserate about your loss with others… but sometimes, the person who lives on is just not the same person, sometimes no one seems to talk about the person you lost.

This is what Red Guy and Yellow Guy go through with the whole ‘David’ thing in the episode. The mourners claiming to be ‘friends’ despite not even knowing Duck’s proper name (I mean we don’t know it either but still) is just the most literal interpretation of seeing people performatively grieve for people they don’t even know.

And that whole angle, I think, is very important to the episode themes and - like - Red and Yellow behavior throughout it. Like, this is a huge reason why they couldn’t get on the ‘right’ way to grieve.

And if you want, you can also connect it to the Deeper Hidden Lore Theory about David. Like, I suggested it in a previous post the idea that rather than just Yellow Guy being some sort of version or manifestation of David Lesleyson - it’s all Three of Them who represent different aspects of David. And that Yellow is simply the favorite because he’s Lesleys favorite part of David - the innocent and inquisitive child.

And you can connect that theory to this whole aspect of the Death episode. Like, the Three of Them are all different ways people remembered the actual David and Yellow was simply Lesley’s version. Or if he’s Lesley’s favorite because he’s based on the parts of David she’d like to remember.

For Lesley, David will always be remembered as her innocent and curious little kid, no matter how much more complicated the truth was (he might’ve had more snarky and selfish qualities like Red Guy or Duck). And in a way, that is not much different than just straight-up burying him under the wrong name.

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aihoshiino · 5 months

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do you think b komachi (specifically the 4 founding members) were ever friends at one point? i think 45510 implied it with how ai refers to them being friends before and nino saying that ai didn’t ‘cling to her friends’

personally, ive assumed that they were never close due to that rift between her and the rest of them therefore leading ai to want to make friends with them but knowing that they mightve been close in the past (even if it was brief) before distancing themselves away and growing to resent and envy her is just

Idk it hurts

I THINK ABOUT THIS SO MUCH AUUUUUU...

The Spica novel implies they never really connected at all and that there was some pretty nasty bullying of Ai basically immediately but uh, the Spica novel also has a lot of weird contradictions with the main series so I kind of just have been taking everything from it with a grain of salt... it'd be one thing if it was actually written by Akasaka and he was retconning but I genuinely think this Tanaka guy just did not know anything about oshi no ko when he wrote it lMDKMSLSKS

SO COMPLETELY IGNORING SPICA IN THAT REGARD...!

It's hard to pin things down exactly because we've never gotten a proper snapshot of that part of Ai's life. The closest we come to having anyone from that time period talk about it is in 45510 and Nino is sooooo biased that it's hard to know how seriously we can take her words.

I tend to believe that Nino is mostly telling the truth about how things went there from a purely narratively utilitarian standpoint of "this is our only source for this particular information so she cannot be a wholly unreliable narrator", even if her obvious emotional bias means you can't just uncritically accept what she says. Kyun kind of accidentally corroborates this in Viewpoint B where she describes Ai as being a little distant and seeming to have her walls up, which matches Nino describing her as 'aloof'.

I don't think this was something Ai was doing intentionally, though! This isn't something anyone in B-Komachi would've had context for but immediately worth noting is that, given that we know Ai can't be any older than 11 or 12 when she debuts in B-Komachi, this is two years at the very most out from her being separated from her mother. As Ayumi herself admits, her abuse of Ai escalated and peaked when Ai was eight or nine years old and Ai was put into the children's home and abandoned by her not long after. Given how fresh the wounds of abuse and abandonment would've been, it's really not a shock to me that Ai might have been kind of wary and defensive in a way that would've read as aloofness to kids who don't know what's up with her.

And also, like... Ai is autistic lol! She literally has a type of neurodivergence that affects her ability to socialize on top of her being implied to have been pretty poorly socialized up to that point as well. Chances are good that during this important period of making first impressions in B-Komachi that she probably wasn't great at masking, so that combined with her already having her guard up a bit likely would have made her seem really standoffish.

With all that laid out, I think my read of what initially happened with the founding members and Ai is that they were all reaching out to each other but ended up missing the final step they would've needed to really connect. The other founding members eventually gave up but Ai never stopped trying to reach them even long past the point where even she admits that they probably hate her. She never gave up on the idea that they could be friends.

It's definitely sad! I think the way the founding members fell apart is a really good depiction of like... an emotionally messy situation where it's hard for me to really blame anyone. In the aftermath of ch132, I've seen a lot of people really ragging on Nino and blaming her entirely for Ai's isolation within B-Komachi but like... isn't Ichigo also to blame for letting things get that bad? Isn't it the manager's job to make sure toxicity like that doesn't fester? Hell, a big part of why the girls in B-Komachi resented Ai is BECAUSE of Ichigo - because the group's management spotlighted and promoted her to the extent that all the other girls felt like they were just there to be Ai's backup dancers.

Thank God that could never happen with the present day generation of B-Komachi, right? Ha... hahahahhaa...............

#sorry to ppl who enjoyed spica who keep seeing me trash it i just genuinely think it was a bad novel nKDJDKSMS #the prose is so fucking hamfisted and emotionally manipulative and the sexualization of sarina's crush on goro...... nooooo thank u!!!#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #ai hoshino #b komachi #onk spoilers

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mdhwrites · 4 months

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You mentioned how Amity cant really be categorised as a good person.

Do you think the same could be said of Luz? I was rewatching the show and alot of her actions seem selfish but never really get fixed or challenged. I.e. pressuring Willow into forgiving her bully because well, LUZ likes her and wants to live out her redemption fantasy. Or her tendency to lie, or just do whatever she wants even if it upsets or hurts people.

A lot of the general same points about Amity as a good person can be made about Luz. We see little kindness for kindness' sake from her, she doesn't go above and beyond for others very much unless they're VERY close to her, her motives are commonly selfishly motivated, etc. like that. Episode 1 is actually one of the closest to a genuinely selfless act to strangers she does, helped by the fact that freeing the prisoners to help Eda is still essentially to help save a stranger since she barely knows Eda and King at this point. After that those generalities, where I could talk about how Amity was at least MAYBE trying to be better, well...

The specifics get a lot rougher. This is partially due to Luz's archtype of main character. A LOT of S1 is characterized by a formula of Luz wanting something/playing out a fantasy, Luz fucking something up in the pursuit of this and then her having to work to fix it. It's actually pretty standard kid's show fair but without the clearer morals usually included in shows like this, or TOH has redundant morals for that matter. A lot of people will point to her doing things like checking on Amity post Covention as a moment of her being a good person to even an enemy but Luz is at least partially the cause for why she's upset and already messed up so setting that right, or just comforting a crying teenager, is kind of the bare minimum that most human beings will do. I've called this and stuff like Eda not letting a teenage girl die "the bare minimum of being a good person" for a reason. You genuinely have to discard good morality entirely in order to not be affected by death or the consequences of your actions.

Which... Gets into how Luz does get a LOT more questionable as even the bare minimum of a good person once the second half of the show begins. Falls and Follies starts on a normal foot for her where the only reason she reaches out to help an enemy is selfishly motivated as a way to prove her own hypothesis. This is like how in Teenage Abomination, it's really easy to draw a line from "I want to get into the magic school" to "Let me be your abomination to show Amity up... And get into the magic school so don't worry about the rules!" Elsewhere Elsewhen is also explicitly about helping someone for her own gain but... Well, she manages to stumble here. She misses Lilith's party, a theoretically important moment for Lilith, and then demands a favor from her after just an apology. Now yes, she has a reason because she was focused on the portal door stuff but it's a precedent. Luz actively seeming to dodge how others may feel while focusing only on herself as she becomes increasingly selfish, usually made worse with context or framing, and all the show, or fandom, can do is give her a flimsy excuse for why she's justified.

Reaching Out's final big Lumity conversation contrasts with their last talk in Covention PERFECTLY to exemplify this. In Covention, Amity and Luz are both in the wrong. Amity instigated the conflict, Luz escalated it into a fight and then cheated and then Amity was tricked into cheating that same fight. I would probably put more blame on Amity due to her antagonism but both have been wronged here. So when in character, Amity demands Luz say she's not a witch, it feels correct even though it hurts to see her so angry and you want the bully to stop being mean. But Luz, again in character as the better person of the two at the moment, acquiesces and gives Amity what she wants before trying to show her why she should be given a chance. A moment of compassion that is then met with compassion by Amity dispelling the everlasting oath. Both were in the wrong but both, through who they are, set things right and find understanding with one another. It's a beautiful moment and one of TOH's absolute bests, even to this day.

Then you have Reaching Out. Amity has done NOTHING wrong this entire episode. Meanwhile, Luz has gotten bored at watching her girlfriend fight, actively ignored Amity's pain, even when it's pointed out to her, and lied the entire episode for what feels like no reason because she was willing to at least admit that SOMETHING was wrong to Eda and King, made even worse with the context that three episodes ago, she agreed to be more open. Luz is inexcusably in the wrong and her father's death does NOT make up for it.

But... When the two sit down, Luz doesn't apologize. Not immediately. She doesn't do more than ask to sit, acting more nervous than she did while Amity was a bully to her. Then Amity literally lists Luz's crimes of that episode... Before asking towards the root of the problem. Despite having run away due to being so upset, Amity is a fucking saint in just wanting an explanation without getting even an apology first. Then Luz gives the explanation, remembers right at the end to apologize but gives Amity nothing else. No words of encouragement, no acknowledgement that what she did today was wrong... Just an excuse. And yes, Luz says it's not an excuse but do you know what you do when you don't want to claim something as an excuse? YOU APOLOGIZE FIRST AND DON'T PUT THE EXCUSE FIRST. Instead, her entire confession is just her justifying why she's been so selfish that episode. It's also an explanation, sure, but she also uses it as her motivation and reason for eactions. Why she did all of this. Shunts everything she did onto this one event going on, a very emotionally manipulative event that will make most people uncomfortable when brought up like this, and then... Amity gets up, vows to make things right for Luz and then heads off.

It's shit like this that makes Luz not a neutral person or just a nice person to their friends but a straight up ASSHOLE. Hollow Mind has her FINALLY getting upset about Belos... When his policies mean she can't get her magic cloak fixed. She at first refuses to go save her girlfriend from being under house arrest because she's too focused on her guilt about Belos and Eda and so would rather literally do NOTHING than go save Amity. And then of course the big one:

In S1, she CONSTANTLY made up for the mistakes she made. She fucked up with her own choices time and time again. One of her few truly redeeming, completely positive traits was this willingness to accept she'd fucked up and set things right. But now that her choices, selfish choices, has potentially destroyed an entire WORLD... She'll do nothing. Absolutely. Fucking. Nothing.

The show frames it as self martyrdom. She frames it as learning from her mistake. But if that were true, she might actually have tried to change her behavior. To not still be focusing entirely on herself. To bring up how she is fucking over her friends and found family. Even acknowledge the collateral that comes with this choice or that she needs someone else to make the choices because she no longer can have faith in herself to do so. Instead, it comes across as her realizing this will be hard this time and just going "Fuck this."

It doesn't make Luz evil but it means that you cannot call her a good person. Especially since, you know, she has still been caught lying TWICE to Amity and seen the pain that lying to her girlfriend causes her and STILL WON'T TELL HER THE TRUTH! Tell Eda and King though? She does that literally at the start of Edge of the World, despite already supposedly hating herself for all of this.

It's bad. There's no two ways around how Luz behaves. You can try to excuse it. Say she's depressed and traumatized. That she can't deal with it. I did an entire teaching blog on fantasy trauma because of those excuses and how profoundly stupid they are if you actually know fantasy. Also, she didn't have to react like this. Anne was still a good person but clearly, at least if you're looking for trauma responses instead of thinking the only response is to cry and throw yourself a pity party, shows severe signs of not being able to handle what just happened during True Colors. She literally can't talk about everything because it overwhelms her. However, instead of deciding, "Fuck the Plantars, Marcy, Sasha, AMPHIBIA," her response is to work herself to DEATH to fix it. And this is despite the fact that her own trust and choices on who to trust, Andrias, Sasha and Marcy all included in this, directly helped lead to potentially a friend's death, three different betrayals and who knows what to Amphibia at that time.

TOH, time and time again, could have chosen to have Luz act in a way that still portrayed her as even trying to be a good person but always chooses not to, instead using excuses for it instead of her actual actions. She could have been OVERLY worried about Amity and thus make her line about "I don't want my problems distracting her," feel a lot more honest and she still fucks things up but out of care instead of selfishness. She could have come to Eda, conflicted and asking permission to go help her girlfriend because she feels like she'll do nothing here but that Amity is safe like this, while they're not, so if they need her, she'll let Amity know and stay here. Eda says she's not needed and you still get her caring about the stakes of the Isles while not making it look like she'd rather have the CHANCE to do something than actually pursue helping her girlfriend. And for staying home? Have her talk to... Probably Hunter as the best option since he already knows everything and this is most in character for him. She admits her fears, instead of through a bullshit, autoplay video diary, and Hunter, worried about the consequences of his own actions and how his own drive hurt so many people while as the Golden Guard, says maybe she should just stop. They'll be okay without her but yeah, you do meddle with things and you've practically destroyed the Isles. Maybe it'd just be better if you tried living a quiet, normal life. She still gets her angst, Camila could overhear and wrestle with what she wants her daughter to do until committing at the end of the episode by going into the portal but you don't have Luz just callously throwing everyone's lives away when supposedly she is uncertain about her ability to make the right choices. Admittedly, this still means keeping the secret from Amity but like... If she did tell Amity, she'd be told not to blame herself, that they need her and get the clear conscience she needed to actually go fix things. You know, the same reason she can't fucking talk to any friends during the episodes because the writers backed themselves into a corner.

But each time, TOH goes with easiest, dumbest, WEIRDEST choices when it comes to how to frame Luz in the second half of the series, to the point where if her angst arc is our mental health representation, I'd rather wait another five years thank you very much! I already have to deal with a brother who excuses his abuse and selfishness with his mental health issues. I don't need fictional characters doing it too, let alone their fandoms. Because as always: Trauma and Mental Illness are not excuses to be ASSHOLES.

And I'm flatly sorry but in the second half of the series, after Vee calls her out on it, Luz is just a selfish asshole and it's hard to say otherwise.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical #toh #the owl house #luz

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localplaguenurse · 7 months

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Ginkgo Trees Masterlist

Every day I am more baffled but proud of how popular this fic has gotten, to the point we have AUs and separate side stories and even a couple retcons (mainly in regards to the kids). As such, and because ginkgo trees itself holds such a special place in my heart, it gets its own masterlist.

ALSO; if you notice something missing, chances are I didn’t feel like it was big enough to specifically link. I’m mostly linking the fics, longer headcanon lists, as well as any super important info such as the family tree or other details. I don’t think I can link every individual ask, I’m not that patient and I’m pretty sure tumblr has a limit to how many links I can add to a text post.

I'm ware this doesn't look super pretty, I might make it more aesthetic in the next couple days.

Ginkgo Trees and various tags

As Gold as the Ginkgo Trees: Morax/Reader slowburn fic set during the Archon War, where reader (or Wifey as we call them) is arranged to marry Morax in exchange for protection of their village and monastery. Rated mature because there’s smut near the end as well as swearing, but the fic is generally pg-13. I suggest reading this first before proceeding because the rest will a) spoil the fic and b) not make much sense without context.

#as gold as the ginkgo trees: I mean. Self explanatory. Anything ginkgo trees related gets this tag slapped on.

#swap wifey au: AU where instead of Morax being Geo Archon, Wifey is Dendro Archon.

#museum au: Also known as the modern AU, or Ivy humiliating the ginkgo family over and over again.

#plague fanart: This is more a general tag. Any fanart I get is tagged as plague fanart, but most of it is art for ginkgo trees.

Wifey has a secret admirer

Sitting on the Morax statue’s lap

Wifey sees their past self due to leylines, and Wifey sees past Morax due to leylines (pt 2)

Wifey and Morax get into an argument

The Ginkgo Family Tree

Wifey’s following and their role as Regina Sanguine and also when a following gets out of line

Feng injuring and then losing his leg

Feng sees something he shouldn’t have (thanks Crys)

Morax being warm blooded

Beta’s twins headcanons (they are canon for she has yoinked them)

Which parents the kids are closest to

Abyss AU

#abyss wifey au: For the AU where Wifey falls into and eventually emerges from the Abyss. I should probably get around to writing that or drawing it…

Wifey falling into the Abyss

Wifey coping with Abyss trauma: dissociative amnesia 1, dissociative amnesia 2, bloodlust, children,

#as gold as the ginkgo trees #my fic #masterlist #masterpost #my headcanons #zhongli #morax genshin #zhongli x reader #morax x reader #if the links don't work i'm committing delete system 32 #abyss wifey au #swap wifey au #museum au

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shallahi-and-snowflake · 5 months

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Hello! Sorry about the roughness of my blog, I mostly just used this one for lurking before I ever thought to get in on anything.

I’m Shallahi Ksheh Bah-Teft, I’m… around… Nanish-er, that’s 20 years old, I think? (Years, months, days, and hours are different where I’m from.) (UPDATE: it’s closer to 22.) I’m human (mostly), Thaylen/Alethi, but I have longer eyebrows than most half-Thayleni. (I’m a Luxray Hybrid now, as of 2-29-24.) Yes, long eyebrows is a weird thing here. I tend to wear them over my ears, if that’s a good image to use as a metric.)

(Update: Apparently I’m Luxray-kin? I just figured it out, so…)

I’m from Kharbranth, also known as the City of Bells. I’m a Knight Radiant (something like a “Chosen” for a smaller, less powerful being. I’m of the Sixth Order, a Lightweaver of the Fourth Ideal as of 1-23-24), a Worldhopper (a “Faller” with more agency in where they go, basically), a collector of stories and knowledge and a lover of food and adventure!

I thought I was 6-foot-something, but I’m closer to 6-and-a-third of this world’s feet in height.

I use she/it/fae, and by your standards of gender, I would be transfeminine. (I transitioned by accidentally taking in an entire lamp’s worth of Stormlight, so no need to worry about HRT access, thank goodness. It’s such a shame that others can’t just breathe in magic and—poof! Be properly aligned to their Spiritual aspect.)

I may say words that don’t make sense to you, or don’t fit in the context you’d use them in, that’s just a consequence of the mixing of my own vocabulary and knowledge that I took with me here, me learning new words and assuming their meaning, and the Connection tricks I use to help learn new languages.

I said I was a Worldhopper earlier; don’t worry, while yes I might steal away to Scadarial or elsewhere for a bit, I’m making this world with weak storms, static grass, and colourful fluffy creatures my home. Like Shinovar but with more colour and less ksenophobia!

Now for you, Snowflake!

Mmmmm…

Ah! I am called “Snowflake” or “Snowy,” (She/Her) and I am a Patternspren or Crypticspren. A spren is… mmmm… a small fragment of a God. Not your gods, mind you. I am bonded to Shallahi, who you have already heard from. This world is strange to us. There is no Shadesmar, no Cognitive Realm that we could find. This means that I am just a Pattern on a dress or other form of clothing. I am dictating my words to Shallahi. Mmm… unfeminine.

(SH: Don’t listen to that stupid old book, it’s full of lies.)

I like lies. You know this.

SH: Then why let those lies dictate your life?)

Mmm… I am called Snowflake because that is how my Pattern looks. This is everything I can think to say.

I sign asks as ❄️.

I have a ton of siblings from Bridge Four, and also Oppy @freeroaming-curiosity is my sister!

Mrrrp!! I’m Shallahi Ksheh! I use she/her!!!

I’m Ishev—fourteen—Rosharan years old, and a Shinx hybrid! I’m… an alternate version of the Shallahi y’all know! Basically, I’m her kid sister!! I wanna be a Trainer!!!

I sign my asks as -Shallahi The Shinx Kit ^•w•*^

Rose @hisuianhellion is MY GIRLFRIEND AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH!

I have 12 kids:

• Sword @sword-of-injustice, who talks like this. (Your pronouns.)

• Crystal @crystalclearribbons, who doesn’t live with me. (She/Her)

• Vivillon @shinx-oh, who also doesn’t live with me. (She/her)

• Fox (Eevee), who lives with Vivillon. (He/him)

• Illanero @zoruascanbetrainerstoo, who is the Champion of Hoenn and Kalos!! (All, but mostly xe/xem)

Xe usually travels with Cresselia/Zrosenza @moondreamscape. (she/it/dream)

• Svirak-Daughter-None, a Squawkabilly (She/Her).

• [Zeradin, a Zebstrika] (They/He).

• <Zan, a Dwebble> (He/Him).

• {Vinette, a Joltik.} (She/It).

• Palana, a Natu (She/Him)

• Navari, Eevee/Axehound hybrid, egg obtained from Quasar ( @rogue-nebula) (She/her? Hatched. Unknown.)

Here’s my Trainer Card:

Annoyingly, there are very few darker-skinned Trainers with blue eyes in the options. Nessa(?) here is the closest I could find.

I have a Venipede friend named Kjrni!!!

Pelliper Mail is ON!

Same with Musharna Mail!

Don’t be afraid to ask me stuff, serious or silly!

In fact, don’t be afraid to be goofy with your asks.

Magic Anons are ON, but FILTERED!

Current Arc: Arc Shash.

Previous Arcs: Purifying Waters Arc, Time Heist Event, Rotomblr in Wonderland, Lightweaver Luxray, Robot Rescue, Mini-Arc: Curse Of Angy Teen, Muse Mixup Madness (Get PMD’d), Mini Arc: Pokesona Time!

//No proshippers, no TERFs, no NSFW stuff. I don’t really want drama, I just want to have fun. Oh, yeah, also, POTENTIAL COSMERE SPOILERS!

//Sentient Pokémon are A-OK to interact, if previous reblogs haven’t made it clear.

//Self Insert Fallers and Branded are also clear to interact.

#Shallahiposting #svirak squawks #Zeradin Reports #Zan speaks #Snowyposting #Vinette!#Palana pops in #Oppy!!#Rose! <3 #Gtet!#Crys-kit!#Viv-kit!#Kitty (Viv-kit!)#Fox-kit!#Illanero!#Maddie! ^^#dusk queen lunala #Navari!!

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laylajeffany · 3 months

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I asked at some point where you get inspiration for Emiliana’s idioms, so I figured I’d share some of my language stumbles from when I was younger. For backstory I grew up in the UK with a British Dad and a Swedish-speaking Finnish Mum. We lived in a completely monolingual town, so I was the only bilingual kid in my schools. I only spoke Swedish with my mother, which likely contributed to these mistakes (sorry mum).

•Lätt som en plätt. I suppose the closest English idiom would be easy as pie. I used to directly translate it and go around saying “easy as a pancake”, leading to some strange looks in school.

•Ha många bollar i luften. Directly translated this means “to have many balls in the air”, which is a way of saying you’ve got lots or things on your hands, or that you’re multitasking. This one earned me some looks too.

•Slå två flugor i en smäll. The Swedish equivalent of “to kill two birds with one stone”. However, the translation is “to whack two flies in one hit”. This one is very Emiliana.

These were all from when I was under 10. The next two stories aren’t idioms, but are too good not to share.

•I apparently hadn’t heard an English speaking person say the word “sauce” until I was 6? I thought it was a Swedish word, and still remember the complete shock when I heard a teacher at my school say it.

•This is a little harder to explain, but I’ll try. I was shoe shopping with my mother when I was 4, and she asked how well the shoe fit. The Swedish word for fit is “rymms”, for context. I replied saying “Min sko fittar inte. (My shoe doesn’t fit). I took the English word fit and said it in a Swedish way. Unfortunately for me, the Swedish word for pussy is fitta. I can only imagine my mother’s face as her 4 year old blatantly informed her that her shoe was not being a pussy.

Thank you for Emiliana, I can empathise with her ❤️

Thank you for sharing! I love that you grew up bilingual, it’s such a beautiful gift. English is a hard language to learn, from what I have been told. I love the language differences I get to see every day in my classroom! Between my ELL population and my students with special needs, I learn something about English all the time! Learning how different people process language has been one of the highlights of my career, honestly - and I love to talk about it because unlocking language is such a key to success. This is a VERY long ramble, but I have so much time to kill and I could talk about language processing all day, haha ;)

I am fortunate to have two degrees - my undergrad work was for early childhood education and my master’s degree was in early childhood special education. For the last few years, I have had the privilege of including students with autism who were perceived as having higher support needs into my general education class. These are kiddos whom our school district did not think qualified for general education and needed to be in self-contained classes, but after a year of self-contained when they were three, and me including them into our classroom as much as was (age)appropriate for their needs at the time, I worked with their teams and families to have them moved into my classroom for their four-year-old-year. They were largely non-verbal or exclusively had echolalia when I met them. I firmly believe that these kiddos need to be around language models, not peers who are also non-verbal communicators for different reasons than just autism. (I do not mean this in any negative way towards others who are not autistic and not able to communicate for reasons such as CP or otherwise - but generally the support needs of these kiddos are very different than the support needs of those on the spectrum. I still believe these kids would benefit from general education with SUPPORT and am trying actively to make this happen, we just generally don’t have the supports available in my district yet.)

Gestalt Language Processing is something I am still learning about, but the specific form of language processing that at least one kiddo I have had each year had (I believe - I am not positive on two as it wasn’t official but the more I am learning about the one I have now, I am positive it was the case for at least two of the others). This is when people learn language in scripts instead of word by word meanings. When the kiddos are still in stages 1-3, it is a matter of knowing the kids VERY well to know what they mean when they use verbal language.

For example, I had a student who used to tap me and say, ‘The Terrible Twos are coming, the Terrible Twos are coming!” I interpreted this after some careful observation to mean “there is someone on the playground who is doing something that I don’t like and I don’t know how to ask them to stop,” when I knew enough about his special interest (NumberBlocks, the ‘terrible twos’ are ‘villains’ who cause mischief and need a hero like ‘octoblock’ to stop them and help the other numbers) to realize what he was saying. It took several weeks and explaining to his entire team AND the rest of my class what he was trying to communicate before we were able to teach more functional language, but we got there eventually. But it’s a TEAM effort, and it requires everyone in the child’s life to learn the script and be using the same language to teach something new.

It’s really tricky! But honestly - I love it so, so much. I have noticed patterns over the last three years, and this is my FAVORITE time of year for these kids. January - February I see HUGE growth. Suddenly kids who came to me mostly non-verbal/echolalic to speaking 2-3 word sentences start to put together whole sentences. After about two months of REALLY, REALLY hard work, increasing push-in time from our speech language-pathologists, having parents work really hard at home, and working with peers (increasing their ability to wait and listen and be patient, take conversational turns, and help our learning students re-frame) they are then speaking full sentences, able to take turns in on-topic conversations, and you can visibly see a difference in them because they become confident communicators. It’s around this same time that we unlock more functional communication that they understand the concept of “friends,” too. We work REALLY hard with the other kids in the room, helping them remember to be patient and give time and chances, and when you’ve created the right environment, you end up helping kids make real friendships that go beyond the classroom.

To me the greatest compliments are always on my end of year evaluations when the outside observers note how even though they had the ‘numbers’ of how many students with special needs are in my classroom, they could not immediately identify who they were because I work so hard at ensuring my spaces is accessible to everyone and welcoming of kids with language differences, and working on building them up to be successful communicators.

When reading CftF, you can probably see a lot of evidence of my work with different communicators between Wednesday and Emiliana. Successful inclusion is my passion and I hope that it translates into my writing! I am glad you felt represented by this in my story!

#layla answers fic questions #layla talks about EDU

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chaotic-clouds · 3 months

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Another theme I really love in little nightmares 2 is how all the beings affected by the Signal Tower can be interpreted as representations of the different kinds of abuse children face throughout their life.

(Now bc of the recent LN podcast that came out giving some insight on how the LN universe works, we know kids that end up there are usually there because they’ve experienced severe trauma and/or abuse throughout their lives. What we also know now is that adults can also end up there, but instead these adults are usually the abusers, which is what makes this world 10x more nightmarish for the kids that inhabit it.)

But I’m not gonna get too into the logistics of the podcast for now though because I’ve not watched it entirely, and I still think this interpretation can be applied with or without the podcast context so I’ll just give my personal thoughts on the main antagonists in general for now!

Starting off with The Bullies I think their symbolism is most obvious, abuse from peers. In typical bully fashion the way they attack you is usually in hoards, killing you with their bare hands instead of a special ability. They even set out traps or what could be seen as a deadly prank, to kill anyone that is unfortunate to set it off. And while yes you are their main target because you are an outsider and “not one of them”, they also seem to regularly harass each other as well, emphasizing the cruel and vindictive nature they internalize (like when mono and six come across a solitary room with a chair in it, implying that the bullies regularly tied some people up and left them there for days, weeks even). But my favorite part is despite how cruel and aggressive they act, the form that the signal tower has turned them into is a porcelain doll, one that while keeping the appearance of a child is instead hollow and just as easy to kill (if not more than a regular kid). The bullies are the closest thing to the regular survivors of LN, but because of their cruel actions in defense of deeply buried insecurities, the Signal Tower has turned the bullies into fragile hollow husks of hate that will forever showcase the damage done to them outwardly, without any chance of concealing the cracks and pieces missing.

When it comes to The Teacher I’m not as sure, but I think she is meant to represent the abuse that individuals in power (specifically the education system) can commit to those underneath their rank. She’s extremely strict and cruel in her punishments, and has stricken fear into even the rowdiest of bullies, her class being dead silent as she teaches nonsense for however long she wishes. Adding onto this, she seems to be the sole person in power to the entire school, setting the schedule however she pleases. With her extensive neck I think this also can be seen as another act of dominance on her part, being able to literally be above whoever crosses her.

The Doctor is less direct, but I think he represents how those put in more knowledgeable and trusted positions can easily take advantage of those they’re supposed to protect. In this case towards his patients that he has taken advantage of and turned into his own experiments, but what confuses me is to why he’s on the ceiling? I mean it could just be as a way to be disturbing but I think it could be conveying how the doctor’s moral views have been so warped that he is literally viewing the world upside down.

The Hunter to me is also a little more confusing. I’m not sure what abuse he would embody but again he is farther from the pale city, so perhaps he’s not as in line with the Signal Towers influence/theme.

The Viewers in my opinion, represent neglect and addiction. While technically passive until provoked, they are designed to make you feel as though you’re walking on eggshells around them whenever you have to walk through the room they’re in. But because of them not caring about you whatsoever, you can pretty much just do whatever you want around them and they won’t even blink an eye until is directly disrupting the connection between them and the signal tower, in which case they get extremely violent, making a sound akin to screaming as they get up in your face to suck the life out of you. Their appearance also has a lot to say about their condition; The way their faces have been distorted and how uniform they all look, the Signal Tower has pretty much sucked the life out of them and made them forget who they ever were, possibly also representing how the relationship between them and whatever children they had would be so distant, that the kid wouldn’t see them as any different than a stranger they walked past on the street.

Aaaand because this post is now way too long maybe I’ll rant about how this applies to Mono and Six’s transformation via the Signal Tower another day. (Also this is just a silly interpretation!! So take this with a grain of salt, I’m sure someone else has explained this like 10x more literate than I could but I just love talking about this game 💔)

#little nightmares #little nightmares 2 #i love this game #little nightmares mono #little nightmares six #the hunter #the doctor #the teacher #the bullies #just me rambling #im so sleepy #the brainrot is real

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lesbianrobin · 1 year

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what do you think of gay steve? i don't dislike the headcanon in theory, but i feel like it's usually done as a way to make steve & nancy's relationship/breakup less important (and often to make it easier to ship r0nance)

i gotta be honest i dont think i've actually ever read any fic where steve is explicitly stated to be gay and not bisexual, besides maybe my own fic nancy drew and the mystery of the magnetic closet, so idk if i'll rly have whatever answer ur looking for re: other people's intent. in magnetic closet i wrote steve as being a bit uncertain as to his identity, leaning gay, but he also explicitly tells nancy that he loves her and their relationship is still significant to him, so like. like MY motivation wasn't downplaying their relationship so at the very least that isn't Everyone's motivation.

anyway like separately from how people Use It in fic i'm into gay steve! i tend to default to bi steve for like fic and headcanons etc bc it's sorta become the fandom standard and a lot of my bi friends like bi steve and i love my bi friends 💖 but if i'm being honest i do think that you can easily interpret a lot of steve's canon behavior in favor of him being gay if you want to do so, and i think i tend to lean that way when i'm writing him even when i don't mean to. just to like preface all of this i'm gay myself and i am terrible about projecting onto steve so yknow take all of the following with a grain of salt.

so like personally i think he never rly had romantic feelings for robin and he only confessed to liking her because he thought his love for robin Had to be attraction since she's a girl yknow? and in s4 it's implied that he's had a string of casual relationships based entirely on sex and he hasn't been able to connect with any of the girls at all which is a bit 🧐🤨. the way steve flirts indiscriminately and talks about wanting a family in the future makes me think like... i think that his search for love is more about wanting a family/wanting love than specifically wanting to be with a woman. like i think in his mind bc of Eighties Heteronormativity the two things are equated, so when he Thinks that he wants to find the female love of his life he Actually just wants a family. and i fear i'm making it sound like steve is a misogynist who just wants a wife to give him kids which is not my intent. like i think steve has a lot of respect for nancy and loves her deeply regardless of whether that love is romantic in nature or not. the fact that he said he was over nancy in s3 while confessing feelings to robin, dated around a bunch, and then suddenly had feelings for her again in s4 comes off less to me like "steve never got over nancy" and more like "steve is unable to find the kind of love he wants with a woman no matter what he tries and he's returning to nancy because he thinks that he just messed up their relationship with his flaws and if they tried again he could be better and everything would be perfect." like nancy was the closest steve ever came to actually being in love with a girl and as time passes he realizes that he doesn't think he could feel that way with another woman. but the thing is that stancy was just not a great couple yknow but they had these external pressures on their relationship that allow them to look back on it and think well maybe NOW we'll be more compatible and we can be happy. like it's this subconscious belief that being in the right relationship could make Everything in his life right.

idk i think at this point i'm just rambling and i fear i'm making no sense but like i think gay steve is really interesting to think about Because his relationship with nancy was so important to him. like it's genuinely really compelling to explore their relationship through the lens of compulsory heterosexuality and consider like the sort of friendship they might have in the wake of steve realizing that he's gay. i also think it's interesting to think about in the context of his friendship with robin and like how radically different their journeys are while simultaneously being kinda the same.

ultimately though since he's like presumed straight in canon i don't think it rly matters whether people hc steve as gay or bi? like it's kinda just whatever you want.

#asks #em talks #lesbianrobin.canon #steve harrington

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chocolateteapotsvis · 8 months

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Let's talk about Knight Terrors! But only the Flash (and a little of the Green Lantern) one shot, because we're here for the Halbarry content.

Spoilers for Knight Terrors: The Flash #1, and some discussion of the event in general. And also warnings for some minor gore (Hal's not looking so hot, as you know if you saw the pages) and spoilers from Final Night (from 1996, so you probably know them already)

Also, from the snippet about the Hal/Barry team up in Green Lantern #4 announcement, I don't think this is meant to tie in with that, but I guess we'll see when the issue comes out!

So! Context! The basic idea of the event is that a villain has trapped everyone in their own personal nightmares, tailor made from their deepest fears. Barry's story focuses around him trying to help an injured Kid Flash Wally, while slowly realizing that there's something very wrong with the world he's in. He goes to the Watchtower to use the Cosmic Treadmill to go back to the moment Wally was injured, and instead is met with this:

So, I kind of love this. It's Barry's dream, and his lack of reaction to Hal's appearance makes sense in that context. The entire scene feels less nightmarish and more melancholic, and reads to me as Barry's own regret about not being there through Parallax and Final Night (or just in general). But despite just traveling through a nightmare world that made him question his own actions and acknowledging their mortality, Barry trusts that they'll have more time to address his regrets without blame or resentment.

And then, immediately after Hal comments how he doesn't know when to let things go, he helps Barry go back in time. Hal trusts Barry's judgement, and Barry knows he can count on that, even when everything else in the world is wrong.

And then there's all the little details, like Hal's Boomer vocab calling back to their Silver Age adventures, Barry recognizing Hal by his signature boring constructs, how Barry doesn't think twice about asking for Hal's help despite his condition and Hal being able to make something as incredibly complex as a working Cosmic Treadmill no problem, how Barry only asks everyone else for information until he finds Hal...

Also, I can't help but wondering if Hal's "Didn't anyone tell you what happened?" is a callback to the League not bothering to tell Hal when Barry died. Between that and Hal's comment about no one coming to visit him, I wonder how Barry feels about how the rest of the League treats Hal.

(Though it's pretty funny, that, from a straight reading of the scene, you could come away thinking Barry's sorry that Hal's face no longer features on League merch)

Honestly, I'd forgotten about the "attacked by your fears" part until writing this up, but it works for Barry on that level too: failing the people closest to him in a world that doesn't make sense. The introduction of the story was how Barry grounds himself in facts and the people around him, and Barry's continued struggle even as those things are ripped away (sometimes by his own doing) was really heartening, despite the nightmare and the cliffhanger.

Even outside the Halbarry moments, Knight Terrors: The Flash is a solid stand alone. I loved Barry's introspection about how he sees the world and the Speed Force, and his relationship with Iris. The introduction of the dream stuff works well even if you're not familiar with the larger event with the trippy visuals and the little things out of place, things Barry himself starts noticing throughout the story. Definitely recommend it, though with a warning for the level of gore that you'd probably expect from these pages and knowing that it's a nightmare world.

But it's a dream sequence, which means it's really open to interpretation! If you've got another read, I'd love to hear it!

The Green Lantern one is decent too, though probably better if you go in knowing that about half the issue is about Sinestro. The overall approach addresses Lanterns having a different relationship with fear than the average superhero. I really appreciated it, especially when so many comics forget that.

#spoilers #halbarry #knight terrors #comic recommendations #knight terrors: the flash #knight terrors: green lantern #and despite my own bias #knight terrors: the joker #hal's turn to be charred like a rotisserie chicken #thanks Ceeloi for that colorful turn of phrase #totally not procrastinating my Halbarry Week stuff

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