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#listen to class of 2013 by mitski
lesbiamano · 8 months
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your mommy issues are horrific
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reverendsarah · 3 months
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i feel sick to my stomach.
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notreyev · 1 year
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headcanon:
nureyev and juno penumbra podcast are both nuerodivergent and stim together by listening to music.
they like to dance and sing and lip sync pretend they’re in music videos together. nureyev likes to whip his head with sass and drama; juno likes headbanging and moshing. they’ll be in juno’s room on the carte blanche, blasting music that will barely the sounds of their obnoxious voices.
nureyev sings and hums unconsciously sometimes. he’ll stop and catch himself mid-song, clear his throat, stop short; juno looks at him like he has three heads and asks him why he stopped.
juno finds a lot of comfort in singing on his own—and with his brother when they were younger—and he’s surprisingly good with it when he tries (he doesn’t try often) (it would shatter his emo brooding).
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ry-ichi1 · 2 years
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Marc Spector is Mitski stan
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sttardelicious · 8 months
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I need to know: do you guys think andrew would listen to a pearl by mitski? bc for me this song was made for him but I never see someone talking about it or it's never on his playlists on spotify (btw almost all of them are kinda questionable)
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sacersanguis · 2 years
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As much I like webtoon Bruce as a dad, comic runs where Bruce is actually a good or okay parent for his kids and Bruce is a Good Parent fics in ao3 (because I like coping with my own issues through them), I sincerely love it when Bruce gets his fucking karma served to him rotten for the "I'm not your father, Jason. I don't need teenage rebellion." type of comments towards Jason and all the fucked up bs he put Dick through ever since he 'fired' him in fics.
Whoever who writes them and mentions in-canon asshole bs Bruce has put the Batkids through, know that I love you and will forfeit my life for you if asked.
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just-rogi · 1 year
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I just read pigeon poem and 004. Alone in my room at one am and I feel sick- god fuck real art is exhausting I think that’s why I don’t make it anymore I feel an emotion I cannot articulate
#closer baby closer#sav brown#savannah brown#pigeon poem#004.#I love listening to Taylor swift and drawing fun little fanart sand I guess that’s real art#and yeah I’ve cried listening to t swift in my room and over supercorp fics#but like#I don’t want to reduce those genres at all#that’s art#but idk#the other day I listened to the tiny desk concert of mitski screaming into the guitar during class of 2013#and reading legitimate contemporary poetry (not new age milk and honey core shit)#it makes me feel more ardently#like I don’t know how to describe it#it’s like I can get a little controles taste of emotions and grief and joy and love and loss while listening to bedroom pop#(and I’ll admit folklore and evermore are so well written they scratch an itch) but I feels starved#like they fill up my heart but have no nutritional value to me#like I’ll numb myself with my safety art to experience emotions like crying over fandoms and making theories#and it’s all well and good#until I watch Everything Everywhere All At Once and realize I’ve been playing with paper dolls of my emotions#or I’ll listen to mitski scream off key into her guitar pickups- not sing- just wail like an animal caught in a trap- unwaivering#or I’ll read pigeon poem or poem 004. and I’m no longer experiencing art with training weeks on#I am left with my own emotions in a way I only am after years of studying art and music and I just kinda let myself enjoying my fav#emotional junk food- I didn’t realize how starved I am for REAL art and to create real art#(also this isn’t shitting on Taylor or fanart it’s or fanfic writers I am a fan artist- but like THIS is a different level of emotions)
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MOM, WOULD YOU WASH MY BACK, JUST THIS ONCE?? AND THEN WE CAN FORGET
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tsireyqs · 1 year
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i lov u and i want u to b safe so take care of wtv u need to atm and i’ll b waiting for u to come back (u didn’t even leave)
i love u too my bby tumblr crush <3 i feel a bit better today, i was really just bleh last night!! thank you bb 💓
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wise-innocence · 2 years
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3.1 spoilers (but it's common knowledge tbh)
The way Scaramouche said "my mother" in the cutscene has me in shambles. It's like when you watch a Demo.n S.layer episode and you're like "Yeah, I can't stand this guy!" and then they pull out the sadness backstory in the books and somehow you feel like the bad person
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toherlover · 1 year
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today the kids i nanny for’s dad asked my dad for an instruction guide for how to raise a daughter because they love me so much in their house brb going to go cry
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spicybi-tm · 1 year
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I still love to learn
But it's a love that feels both unrequited and forbidden.
I loved learning about math and how it felt like I was solving a puzzle
But I learned that this love I held would only bring me pain.
I was 11 and subjected to the ridicule of my peers because "of course you like math, you're Asian aren't you?"
So I hid the love I held and sabotaged my grades in an effort to put a stop to the small jabs, an effort that was fruitless.
I loved to read books and visits to the library were my favorite part of the week
And don't get me started on when the book fair came and I would beg my mom to "just a couple of dollars, please they have the next book in that series I told you about!"
I remember the reading comprehension tests we were given in elementary school and how I glowed with pride every time the proctor told me that I could read a few grades above my classmates level.
I don't know when books had lost their charm.
Maybe it was 7th grade and I was halfway to 13 that I couldn't get lost in those pages like I used to.
And with such a high reading level, I adored writing.
Specifically, narrative pieces. I would get so upset when I was given a maximum page limit. It was near impossible for me to write a story so short and sweet.
But I was a perfectionist, often told that I was a natural. That this talent of mine was innate, ingrained into me and as sure as the blood in my veins.
So, deadlines came and went. The ones I did turn in only received low marks because of how late it was. I don't think any of them understood how much of my worth was based on getting it perfect the first try.
So that love had brought only tears then.
I still want to learn.
I want to learn all I can about Mechanical/Electrical Engineering.
I want to learn all I can about Paleontology.
I want to learn so many different languages and the mother tongue that my dad has all but forgotten.
I want to learn how to do so many things.
But a part of me has whispered that it's too late. Leave all of this to the youth.
And I wonder if I'm still young? Am I allowed to be?
But that small part of me whispers once more that I haven't been young in a long time. Foolish and naive? Absolutely. It whispers poison telling that I have to leave childish dreams behind. Grow up and understand that you have to kill that part of you.
I still love to learn but I feel as though I don't deserve to. That I am too late to act on that love.
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knivesandsorrows · 2 years
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realised the small things i’ve been desperately trying to find purpose in do have purpose they do have meaning but it’s not enough and it won’t ever help <3
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the cool thing about being a control freak and a perfectionist is that you inherited from your mother who inherited it from hers and nobody is ever good enough for anybody
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avatarkv · 1 year
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IV ! Mom, am I still young? Can I dream for a few months more?
✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing. ( First | Second | Third | Fourth | Fifth )
Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 4070)
Song: Class of 2013, Mitski.
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A mother’s love is of all things.  
“You start from here,” Her gentle hands moved across the cloth as she showed you how to make the first stitch, her voice encouraging as she patiently talked you through every step. You listened to her instructions, your tiny fingers following every gesture, but your mind drifted off to somewhere and Neytiri was well aware of that. 
"Mama, how much longer will this take?" You whined, your lips pursed in a pout as you discarded the rag. It was taking far too long for your liking and you were more than ready to be finished, but your mother's stern gaze was enough to stay put.
“Until you finally get it.” She sighed, knowing well that you wanted nothing but to run to your father and Neteyam. Neytiri could see clearly that you wanted nothing more than to train with them, learning all that Jake had to teach, and while she was relieved that you were so eager, she couldn't help but feel a little left behind.
You furrowed your brow as you looked down at the mangled fabric in front of you, feeling frustration coursing through your veins. "I don't like sewing," You sighed quietly to yourself, trying to undo the mess of stitches and start again from scratch.
A mother’s love could be quite petulant. Neytiri could feel the insecurity settling at the pits of her stomach, thinking about how his mate was doing a much better job at parenting. She was never able to keep you in one place, always wriggling uneasily on your chair and asking for the time so you can go, so she was often left with no other choice than to give into your demands and watch as you ran away from her.
It was silly, you were just a child– what child wouldn't want to be outside where the world was theirs to explore?
With another sigh, Neytiri placed a hand to your shoulder in understandment. She gave you a gentle squeeze,  “You know where your father is, go on.” 
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A mother’s love could be fiery– burning brightly like a wildfire in her heart. It was a force that drove her to do anything she could to ensure the wellbeing of her children, even if it meant making difficult decisions that brought pain to herself.
When you once came home, battered and bruised, of course she did not relent. 
“What was the only thing I asked?” She carefully tended to your wounds, despite the frustrated tears streaming down your face. With a sigh of exhaustion, she reminded you in a rough whisper, “To be careful!” 
“I don’t let you run off with your father and Neteyam for you to carelessly train yourself,” She continued to scold you, “Now look at you, do you know how long these bruises will heal?” you hung your head low in shame, not wanting to meet her angry gaze. You felt guilty for making her worry and were immediately overcome with remorse.
“For this, you are not allowed to train for two weeks,” She said sternly, “Not until these heal, you understand?”
“But mama,” You tried to change her mind, but the look she gave was enough to let you know that she wasn’t going to tolerate any argument on the matter. You begrudgingly nodded your head in agreement with a frown. 
“I love you, ma’ite,” When you didn’t reply, her heart sank a little. She knew you would resent her for this while the duration of your punishment stretches on, but she was only looking out for you– besides, there was no way she was going to let you train all sore. You’d understand when you’re older. 
Neytiri would do anything if it means everyone would be safe. 
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A mother’s love is of all things, but above all, the love she had rooted from no other else but her own children. 
When you once came forward with a present, she was curious. It wasn’t like you didn’t lend any gifts at all, if anything, you were the most thoughtful with giving; always coming home with trinkets from your training, colorful beads from a lazy stroll, or even rocks with the weirdest of shapes. But you were most excited with this one, a smile growing every second as you waited for Neytiri to grab the wrapped box. 
“What is this?” She had her eyebrow quirked up high in curiosity, a tiny smile fighting to stay suppressed.
“Open it, come on!” You squealed, trying hard not to open it yourself. 
“You made this?” She said, looking at the well-made shawl– actually, it was messy. The stitches weren’t as straight and there were holes larger than the others, a few smaller, but the ornaments sewn between the threads were no doubt from you. To her, it was the most beautiful thing ever; it was from you. 
“I did!” You beamed, chest puffing out proudly, “Well.. maybe I cheated a little. Grandmother helped me, but all the beads there are from me! See those?” You excitedly gestured to each and every trinket, going with great detail into how and where you got them. She asked questions along the way, marveling at how eager you were to tell her of your adventures. 
While you were keen on your work, her eyes were only on you, listening intently. 
“So.. do you like it?” 
Neytiri burst into a fit of giggles as she embraced you tightly, her head resting against the little space on your neck. “I love it, Ma’ite– I love you.” she whispered softly.
You returned the hug, “Does this mean I’m done with sewing?”
“Don’t push it.” 
It didn’t matter whether you were with Jake most of the time– she wanted to tell him how wrong he was to tell her you were a daddy’s girl. Neytiri received a shawl from you– a shawl. It’s safe to say that maybe you loved her a bit more than Jake. 
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While her love was indescribable, there were no exact words for her anguish too. When Neteyam died, it was nothing but loss. No mother should have to bury their child. It weighed heavily on her– so heavy, a piece of her died along with him. Neytiri felt it in every pore of her being, a dull ache that could never be filled no matter how much time passed. 
Neteyam, her first born and first loss. 
The same anguish was apparent on you too and she wasn’t blind to that fact. 
You were carefully tending to the different herbs on the corner of your pod. You placed them in the mortar, crushing it with a pestle between your fingers and frowning with concentration. You had asked Neytiri if you could stay behind and help with chores and while she did need an extra pair of hands, it was also an excuse to get out from training for the day.
Neytiri knelt beside you, her grip on your hand preventing you from mashing the already mashed ingredients in the bowl. She looked into your eyes with genuine concern, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “What’s troubling you, ma’ite?” She asked softly. You sighed heavily in response while setting the bowl down slowly.
When you didn't answer, she asked again. “Neteyam?” Your breathing hitched and that was all the answer she needed. 
“It’s been over a month already,” You started, unable to look at her, “I don’t wanna mourn anymore. I don’t wanna cry– Tuk, she,” 
“I know. I heard.” You were struck with a wave of embarrassment as you abruptly turn to face her, realizing now that you weren't as silent as you had wished that night. You shook your head, trying to push down the shame. 
“I’m the eldest now and she’s tougher than me, it’s really a slap on the face.” 
Neytiri sits in front of you, taking both your hands in her own. She looks at you steadily with a piercing and gentle gaze, “Have you ever thought that maybe the reason why it isn’t letting you rest is because you haven’t mourned him properly?” Unable to process her words, you look up to her with a confused expression, beckoning her to continue. “All you have ever done is cry– blame yourself for what has happened. That is not mourning, you are simply wallowing in self-pity.” 
“It’s not easy,” You quickly interject, shaking your head with a hint of frustration.  
“And it’s not supposed to, but you’re here trying to stop yourself from feeling.” She soothes the skin of your hands with gentle rubs, trying to calm you down. “Have you ever visited him after what had happened?” 
She was met with only silence and again, it was all the answer she needed. With a heavy sigh, Neytiri gently pulls you closer to her, “Ma’ite, maybe it’s time you talk to him. You aren’t letting his soul rest either,” She whispers, “You’re making him wait.” 
“I’m sorry.” You murmur, burying your head into your mother's arms. Despite feeling a little embarrassed by the sudden display of emotion, you can't deny the comfort it brings. Neytiri holds onto you tightly, as if she too needed this moment just as much as you did. 
After a few more minutes, she nudges you softly, “I’m going to get more herbs,” With another kiss to your temple, she squeezed your shoulders and stood up. 
Neytiri’s words hit you hard– she was right. You have never put an effort to visit your brother, let alone talk to him. The realization was like a punch in the gut; while you were trying so hard to put as much space between you, Neteyam remained waiting. 
You had to talk to him, had to tell him everything before your heart could hold no more. It didn’t matter if he was angry anymore, nor if he would have blamed you for what had happened. You missed your brother– missed him like a little kid.
You stood up, taking your woven satchel– but before you could take another step out the door, Jake enters with a disheveled Lo’ak behind; it was clear that he got into a fight, the bruises on his face and body was enough to tell. “What was the one thing I asked?” Jake asks, scanning the area to check if anyone had followed them, “The one thing!”
“Look, dad. Ao’nung was picking on Kiri,” Lo’ak defends himself, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “They called her a freak.” 
“And you! Where were you? Weren’t you supposed to be training?” His tone is harsh and demanding, cutting off any chance to interject. Jake turns to you, livid,  “I catch you over here slacking off while this knucklehead is giving them a passage to kick us off the island– Jesus Christ, you’re the eldest now!” 
“I’m sorry, sir, this is my fault.” You replied, unable to meet his gaze. “I should’ve been keeping an eye on everyone.”
“Damn right. I catch a break for one second– one second!” He continued to berate and you could only hang your head low. “You’re supposed to be like Neteyam, but ever since we got here, all you’ve done is disappoint me. You disappoint me, __.”
“But I wasn’t just slacking, I was helping with–” 
“I don’t wanna hear it.” He immediately turns back to Lo'ak. He badly wanted to come to your defense, but something about Jake's steely gaze made him think twice. His lips quiver as he struggles against the urge to speak, feeling frustrated. “Go apologize to Ao’nung.”
“It’s not fair, dad! They were–”
He quickly dismisses him like he did with you, “Go make peace. I don’t know how, just go.” 
Lo’ak was the first to move, his footsteps heavy as he walked out. Before you followed, you glanced one last time at Jake, trying to look for any trace of remorse in his eyes. All you found was the same stoic expression. With a sigh, you trudged behind your brother.
Once you both were far enough from your Marui, you quickly grabbed Lo’ak’s wrist, stopping him from walking further. “Stay here,” 
He gave you a perplexed look as you firmly held him, “I’m supposed to be making amends.”
“I’ll do it myself so for once, stay here and  just do nothing.” Your mind was clouded, absolutely heavy from your father’s words. With another frustrated sigh, you let go of him. “What were you thinking?” 
“What do you mean?” His tone was laced with a mixture of guilt and defiance, shoulders tense. 
“You know damn well, Lo’ak.” The laugh that erupted from your mouth is menacing– mean. You grabbed his shoulders and spun him, forcing him to look at you. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He quickly shrugs your grasp away, his gaze downcast. Lo’ak couldn’t bear to even glance at you, not when you’re looking at him like that. It was so unlike you to be angry, usually you were the most patient– understanding. Right now, your eyes held nothing but exhaustion and it was like you were a different person yourself, morphing into someone he terribly misses. 
God, he misses his brother. Now that he’s gone, things are a lot worse– he didn’t even know that it was possible to feel more alone. There was no one who’d put on an effort to cheer him up despite him royally fucking up, no one to mess with his hair, or to stand up for him. With Neteyam, he was sure he understood him so well– with Neteyam, he was still a child. Lo’ak swears he also died that night, heart buried along his back at home. His younger self has not stopped crying ever since, shouting at him, asking, “It’s our fault again, is it?”
“You would have done the same,” He tries to reply with the same fierceness, but his voice is breaking. “Maybe if you were there, you would have even thrown in a punch too–” 
You spun him again irritatedly, “But I’m not like you. It’s different here, you understand?” Your voice was getting louder– growing absolutely desperate with every word. “You aren’t thinking!” That stunned the both of you and you couldn’t help but feel a nauseating deja-vu the moment it left your mouth. It was familiar, oh so familiar it hurt.
“What has gotten into you?” Before he could wait for a reply, you had already stormed off, leaving him right in the open.
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It wasn’t hard to find Ao’nung, being the olo’eyktan’s son made him stand out easily. They were at the shore and unlike Lo’ak, you could see how they’ve gotten the end of the punches more badly. You tried not to visibly wince at the huge deep-purple bruise forming on his face and the others littered all over his body– yikes. 
You knew he deserved this. Ao’nung wasn’t the kindest ever since you had seeked uturu so you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Despite this, he didn’t relent. 
 “I’ll forgive you once you are able to ride an Ilu,” he said, and his friends snickered from behind, “But you still can’t, right? What would father do if he hears that none of the Sullys’ had gone out to apologize.” 
You clench your fists, digging your nails into your palms as they continue to ridicule you; you wanted to retaliate with the same harshness Lo’ak had, but you knew you had to keep composure. Oh Great Mother, the urge was strong. “All I have to do is ride an Ilu?” 
“Don’t bother,.” He scoffed, harshly jabbing his fingers into your chest, “You’re funny if you think that I’ll ever save you again– it would be one less freak from the clan.” Everyone broke out into a fit of loud laughter, taking turns in mocking you. 
“Consider us forgiven then.” You said firmly, pushing past them and marching towards the sea. 
He called for you to stay back, but you couldn’t just stop now– not when you have already mounted your ilu. The salty ocean air filled your lungs as you surveyed the horizon, the waves crashed on the rocks and it was evident that the water was fiercer. It should’ve been enough sign for you to pocket your pride and relent.
As you made the bond, you embraced the creature, trying to steady your breathing. “Just this once, please? Please, please. Save me from embarrassment.” 
It was a foolish decision to act out of spite, especially after you had been trying for well over a month with no success. You knew there was little chance that this time would be any different, but the impulse drove you forward and you just couldn't let go. As the ilu surged ahead with reckless abandon, you held on more desperately than before.
You were struggling to keep the creature in check. The strong waves made it even more challenging to stay on top of the situation, but you pushed ahead determinedly with an iron grip that was sure to leave your hands sore. Suddenly, your hard work seemed to pay off as the ilu started slowing down under your control, enough that you could relax a little. 
As you emerged from the water, you couldn’t help the shout escaping your throat as the other’s stood ready near their own ilus. Whether the smirk from Ao’nung’s face was of disbelief or if he had been genuinely impressed didn’t matter to you, all you could feel was a surge of pride burning through your skin. You flipped him off, peppering your ilu with much deserved kisses. 
“Come on, let’s go further,” You talked to her, encouraging her to keep moving forward, where she replied with an eager yip. 
You were absolutely thrilled– it had been a grueling month and the anticipation was nearly too much to bear. The thought of finally riding an ilu was almost too exciting for words. Although you preferred the forest, you’d be a big fat liar if you denied the beauty of Awa’atlu. You’ve been dying to explore– you felt like a kid again.
As you continued to ride forward, with not a thought in mind, you would not have expected to be found so easily.
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It was almost night time and everyone was getting ready for dinner inside. Jake waited at the entrance of the Marui, sharpening his dagger as he waited for you.  He glanced around impatiently as he tried to ignore the spiraling  uneasiness in his stomach. 
“It’s getting cold, ma Jake.” Neytiri called for him, rubbing his back soothingly. “Wait for her inside, she’s probably on her way home.” She had noticed how anxious he was growing as the sun started to set and the dark night began to creep closer. It was even more obvious when he hadn't moved from his spot in front for hours already, frown deepening. 
“I failed as a father, Neytiri,” His voice emerged from his throat, strained and raw. He had done all he could, but it seemed that his luck had truly run out.  Now that he faced the truth of his failures, he was filled with bitter regret and a deep sadness for what could have been– of what he had to lose. “I look at them and I feel like I’ve already lost everyone.” 
Neytiri kneeled beside him, curling her arms around him in a comforting embrace. “You only did what you thought was best,” she whispered softly.
“And yet, I managed to make things worse.”  
“Just talk to them, ma Jake,” She gave him a stern look, squeezing his shoulders, “It hasn’t been easy for them either.”
“I know that, but–” The crackling of the line made Jake wince, but he could make out his daughter's voice beneath the static from the other line, and the urgency in your voice made his body jolt– a familiar dread that brought him back to that fateful night when you desperately called out for Neteyam. 
“Can someone hear me?”
The searing heat was unbearable, even when you were surrounded by nothing but water, it scorched your skin the same. The village was rising from the ashes of an unforgiving fire, the island surrounded by familiar ships. Your eyes mirrored the flames that engulfed the area and you were unable to look away— unable to move.
Your fingers frantically felt for the device tucked on your ear, pressing on its button, hoping someone would answer– pride be damned, you even hope that it would be your father. 
He stood up, instinctively grabbing the gun from his side, “__? What’s wrong, baby girl? Talk to me.” 
“Dad, Sir, a village!” Your voice nearly drowned out, inaudible from the deafening sound of waves thrashing towards you and your ilu. You were holding onto her for dear life as the salty water stung at your eyes, blurring your vision, “A village is on fire!”
“What? Where are you?” 
Neytiri stood sharply beside him, her eyes wide with fear as she desperately tried to hear your voice from the intercom. “Jake, what’s happening? Where is she?”
“I don’t know– I don’t know! I rode my Ilu too far. Dad, there are ships! Sky-people ships, plenty!” You spoke rapidly, your words tumbling out of your mouth faster and faster as the panic built up inside of you. You were becoming increasingly anxious, with every passing second more fearful than the last. “They’re here sir, they found us.” 
Jake’s heart plummeted there and then. 
“They’re hurting them– they have them at gunpoint, what do I do?” You continued to hurriedly talk, explaining the severity of the situation. It was nauseatingly terrifying, a sickening sensation that had taken root in his stomach and clouded his mind with nothing but overwhelming fear. “I– I have to do something, anything! Please, tell me what to do.”
“Listen to me, listen to Sempu alright?” His voice is gravelly, like he hasn't been able to catch a breath in what feels like days. Jake was desperate as he wanted to tell you this wasn’t about you proving yourself anymore, acting on behalf of your brother’s loss. This was solely about him wanting his sweet daughter back, safe and sound. “Don’t look at them, for the love of– please, get out of there now.” 
“But dad, I–”
“I need you back here, please baby girl, please.” 
However, you and him did not stand on the same ground, hearts paced on different pages. All you saw were the people; their safety and well-being had to come first and foremost. You had to save them, had to do something to avert the danger. They were innocent and above all, helpless. 
To Jake, all he could think was of you, his sweet daughter, caught in a wildfire. 
“This is an order, __. Turn back now,” It was the only thing he could do, instill authority in hopes it would make you deter. “I’ll alert Tonowari of the situation. It’s not a good idea to barge into face-first and vulnerable, you hear me? What are you gonna do with all their guns and people? Turn back. Now.” 
And it worked. Only now were you able to let out the breath you kept for so long, finally averting your gaze and looking down in shame. “I hear you, sir, I’m,” With one last look, you gulped. “I’m heading back.” 
“Good. Don’t let them see you.” 
As you reconnected with the Ilu, you pleaded it to take the lead and guide them both back home. You could feel her emotions racing through your veins, her fear undeniable as she witnessed others of her kind slaughtered mercilessly by the shoreline. The bond between you was overwhelming and unsteady, so much that it almost took all your energy just to keep yourself from dissociating from her.
Before you could submerge below the safety of the waters again, your ilu begins to bellow loudly in distress. Its body thrashes around, making it hard for you to hold on. “Mawey, mawey!”
More static could be heard from Jake’s intercom, the noise turning more and more deafening. He tried to make out anything from the sound, but all he could hear was white noise. You called out for him one last time, before the pager turned off.
“Jake, please, where’s my daughter?” 
When Neytiri lost her eldest, she didn’t think she’d lose another one so soon.
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☆ mauve here! this was such a pain in the ass to finish, so hopefully i did this chapter justice !!!! i would love to interact w everyone here, so please don't hesitate to drop by my asks! i also accept requests <3 i would very much appreciate it. lots of love!
Tags: @eywas-heir @aonungsmate @cappsikle @dearstell @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @aleracrovn @fangzyz @bobojojoba69 @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @dumb-fawkin-bitch @navs-bhat @jo1818 @ladylovegood-69 @kahlowy @neteyamforlife @mochiivqi @heart-an0n @strnqer @abbersreads @historygeekqueen
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© avatarkv, do not repost.
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mapledkanata · 2 months
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Post-Requiem Toki to Mitski's Class of 2013..
I gave the song a few listens last night and was so stricken by it I had to put it into something right away. I thought about how terrible fate had treated Toki. I wanted to explore him navigating his trauma and grief Post-Doomstar Requiem. He does see Dethklok as his family and in AOD we do see that he is still impacted by the trauma, but I wanted to take the path of him feeling isolated and hurt by those he had loved. I needed to drive in the nail of him being wounded by Dethklok's initial negligence and for him to feel at loss about where to go next or who to turn to.
In this exploration of Toki's character, he possibly returns to Norway, trying to find solace where there was none.
He deserves happiness.
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