#I think beyond the death and suffering they are going through | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

homo-house · 6 months

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hey uh so I haven't seen anyone talking about this here yet, but

the amazon river, like the biggest river in the fucking world, in the middle of the amazon fucking rainforest, is currently going through its worst drought since the records began 121 years ago

picture from Folha PE

there's a lot going on but I haven't seen much international buzz around this like there was when the forest was on fire (maybe because it's harder to shift the narrative to blame brazil exclusively as if the rest of the world didn't have fault in this) so I wanted to bring this to tumblr's attention

I don't know too many details as I live in the other side of the country and we are suffering from the exact opposite (at least three cyclones this year, honestly have stopped counting - it's unusual for us to get hit by even one - floods, landslides, we have a death toll, people are losing everything to the water), but like, I as a brazilian have literally never seen pictures of the river like this before. every single city in the amazonas state is in a state of emergency as of november 1st.

pictures by Adriano Liziero (ig: geopanoramas)

we are used to seeing images of rio negro and solimões, the two main amazon river affluents, in all their grandiose and beauty and seeing these pictures is really fucking chilling. some of our news outlets are saying the solimões has turned to a sand desert... can you imagine this watery sight turning into a desert in the span of a year?

while down south we are seeing amounts of rain and hailstorms the likes of which our infrastructure is simply not built to deal with, up north people who have built everything around the river are at a loss of what to do.

the houses there that are built to float are just on the ground, people who depend on fishing for a living have to walk kilometers to find any fish that are still alive at all, the biodiversity there is at risk, and on an economic level it's hard to grasp how people from the northern states are getting by at all - the main means of transport for ANYTHING in that region is via the river water. this will impact the region for months to come. it doesnt make a lot of sense to build a lot of roads bc it's just better to use the waterway system, everything is built around or floats on the river after all. and like, the water level is so incomprehensibly low the boats are just STUCK. people are having a hard time getting from one place to another - keep in mind the widest parts of the river are over 10 km apart!!

this shit is really serious and i am trying not to think about it because we have a different kind of problem to worry about down south but it's really terrifying when I stop to think about it. you already know the climate crisis is real and the effects are beyond preventable now (we're past global warming, get used to calling it "global boiling"). we'll be switching strategies to damage control from now on and like, this is what it's come to.

I don't like to be alarmist but it's hard not to be alarmed. I'm sorry that I can't end this post with very clear intructions on how people overseas can help, there really isn't much to do except hope the water level rises soon, maybe pray if you believe in something. in that regard we just have to keep pressing for change at a global level; local conditions only would not, COULD NOT be causing this - the amazon river is a CONTINENTAL body of water, it spans across multiple countries. so my advice is spread the word, let your representatives know that you're worried and you want change towards sustainability, degrowth and reduced carbon emissions, support your local NGOs, maybe join a cause, I don't know? I recommend reading on ecological and feminist economics though

however, I know you can help the affected riverine families by donating to organizations dedicated to helping the region. keep in mind a single US dollar, pound or euro is worth over 5x more in our currency so anything you donate at all will certainly help those affected.

FAS - Sustainable Amazon Fundation

Idesam - Sustainable Developent and Preservation Institute of Amazonas

Greenpeace Brasil - I know Greenpeace isn't the best but they're one of the few options I can think of that have a bridge to the international world and they are helping directly

There are a lot of other smaller/local NGOs but I'm not sure how you could donate to them from overseas, I'll leave some of them here anyway:

Projeto Gari

Caritás Brasileira

If you know any other organizations please link them, I'll be sure to reblog though my reach isn't a lot

thank you so much for reading this to the end, don't feel obligated to share but please do if you can! even if you just read up to here it means a lot to me that someone out there knows

also as an afterthought, I wanted to expand on why I think this hasn't made big news yet: because unlike the case of the 2020 forest fires, other countries have to hold themselves accountable when looking at this situation. while in 2020 it was easier to pretend the fires were all our fault and people were talking about taking the amazon away from us like they wouldn't do much worse. global superpowers have no more forests to speak of so I guess they've been eyeing what latin america still has. so like this bit of the post is just to say if you're thinking of saying anything of the sort, maybe think of what your own country has done to contribute to this instead of blaming brazil exclusively and saying the amazon should be protected by force or whatever

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incorrectbatfam · 3 months

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AITA for not avenging my son's death?

Throwaway account for obvious reasons.

I (45M) have six kids—27M, 23F, 23M, 17M, 16M, and 10M. This one concerns my 23-year-old son, we'll call him "Jay."

I adopted Jay from a rough environment when he was 12 and love him more than anything in the world even as I write this. I was heartbroken beyond words when he suddenly and unexpectedly died at 15. My grief took control (until my third son "Timmy" came along, but that's another story). Unbeknownst to me, after Superman tore a hole in realy, Jay came back.

However, our relationship's been strained ever since. He's angry at me for not being there for him or avenging his death. However, he's also had his fair share of vices by fraternizing with one of my enemies, going on murderous crime sprees, starting fights with his other siblings, and basically turning all the values I instilled in him on its head. When I first saw him after he came back, I couldn't even recognize him.

We've since then reconciled despite our continuing differences and I cannot emphasize how happy I am to have him back. However, we still get into the occasional argument. Last night, it was another repeat of the argument of why I didn't do anything after he died. Jay pointed out how when another son of mine (10M, gonna call him "Dami") died, I traveled to another planet to bring him back.

Now Jay is accusing me of favoritism and won't talk to me. He and my oldest son ("Richard") think I'm in the wrong for not trying to bring him back or at least avenge him. My wife and youngest disagree because I was younger, less experienced, and also suffered through the grief. My middle kids are on the fence and my butler refuses to weigh in, so I'm coming to you guys on the internet for another opinion.

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howtofightwrite · 3 months

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For a character that virtually can’t die and regenerates in order to keep living, how do you make action interesting? Emphasize they still feel pain, why they’re doing it?

I'm actually going to step back a bit from this question first, and complement it. This is a very honest question, and something most writers who include violence in their work, should really think about. Even if you don't think you have characters like this, you do.

Now, I'm going to dunk on Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw for a moment. Ages ago (I think it was in one of his Resistance reviews), Yahtzee described, “threatening to blow up the world,” as the laziest form of raising the stakes. Because, “hey, I live on a world.” He's mostly correct. Threatening your protagonist's life is even lazier. In the vast majority of cases, your audience knows you won't go through with it. That you won't kill off your protagonists.

With that in mind, when you decide your protagonist is completely immortal, that changes less about how you write them than you might expect. The biggest difference is simply that they're directly aware of their plot armor, rather than them engaging in faux indecision based on their perceived mortality. Again, this is something that every writer who uses violence should think about, at least a bit. It is natural for a character to fear for their life, and have reservations about risking their life, but making the part where your character's lives are on the line isn't automatically suspenseful. In a lot of cases (consciously or not), your audience will call your bluff, when you threaten to kill off a major character.

If you think back to major character deaths where something drops them without warning, part of what makes those scenes work is the lack of (apparent) setup. The writer didn't spend pages teasing you with the idea, they just went for the throat and ended that character on the spot. This is more respectful of your audience, because you're not telling them, “well, I might kill this character, or I might not.”

To be clear, I'm not saying that there's no place for teasing your audience with a character's impending demise, just pointing out that in a lot of cases, this won't generate the kind of suspense you'd hope for.

So, to get back on topic, how do you make it interesting? Remember that while this character can't die, the same is not true for the characters around them. Depending on the tone you're going for, you could create an absolutely brutal crucible effect, where everyone around your immortal gets burned off, sooner or later. Whether that's literal, or figurative, is up to you. Even if your character can't die, watching people they care about suffer and die is going to have an effect on them.

You probably don't need to draw special attention to the physical pain they experience, but you do want to be aware of it. Especially in the context of how pain affects the victim's behavior. Beyond that, there is probably an element of pain being far more annoying to the immortal than it would be to a normal person. They know it's not telling them anything meaningful, but it is distracting.

Long-term, both of these can easily result in personality shifts. And, legitimately, this is a scenario where a character may be immortal, but they would still experience significant changes over time, and with the growing emotional pain, could have very adverse effects on your personality. This does have some very real, “live long enough to see yourself become the villain,” potential. How many friends can you lose before you stop caring? How many funerals can you attend before you start taking the phrase, “you're either part of the solution or part of the problem,” a little too far? How many times can you pick yourself up off the pavement a blood-covered alleyway, surrounded by corpses, before you start to forget what made you human in the first place?

And, that's not the only option. The simplest answer for maintaining tension when one of your characters is immortal is keeping your eye on what they're trying to accomplish. Keep track of their objectives, because I guarantee they can fail those. Even just keeping their own nature concealed from the mortal world is probably fairly important, because of the idea that men in hazmat suits will drag them away to some research lab and poke them until they figure out how to replicate their immortality, is a classic (and potentially plausible) threat. (Bonus points, if you're wanting to loop in something like the medieval inquisitions, or some other secret societies that could pose this kind of a threat.)

So, what do you do? To dig out an old cliché threat, “there are fates worse than death,” and it's probably worth exploring them. This also opens up new possibilities for threats. Finally, it's worth remembering that immortality does not guarantee success. If your character is hoping for that, it might be time to give them a very harsh lesson.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers

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belit0 · 7 months

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ahh, i just found out tobirama was about 40 when he became hokage! which makes him even hotter🤭. can you do a hokage tobirama and his young pregnant shy wife meeting his family and like people around the village

I need to EXPLICTLYYYY know where you got that information from bc confirming that he was a daddy brings a different flavor to his character🫠❤️‍🩹

For clarification purposes: Madara is blind in this piece. Hashirama healed Izuna before he died, under Madara's acceptance of peace, and Aniki never took his younger brother's eyes, preferring to go blind rather than steal his sight.

No one dares to look him in the eye, let alone question the possessive hand that won't let go of (Y/N)'s hips. Her belly is too prominent to deny the situation, but no one is used to seeing the current Hokage with his wife.

Senju Tobirama devoted himself to hiding the woman he promised as a bride, unable to tolerate stares at her and unfortunate comments. Both men and women would send lust and desire toward her, and he would have no way to stop them all. What better remedy than to shelter (Y/N) until his ownership is undeniable?

Tobirama can be quite capricious.

The man even went as far as not allowing his own older brother to meet her, Hashirama himself excluded from the equation. To think that the former Hokage could betray his younger brother like that was ridiculous to everyone, but it wasn't about lust with him. No.

Tobirama hid (Y/N) because he refused to lose the one ray of light in his life (after Anija's solar shower, of course). His past is made up of death and disappointment, built as an unfeeling weapon of war by his father, robbed of the ability to empathize with anyone until the creation of Konoha.

His wife brought a peace he didn't know he needed into his life, a breath of fresh air even as nations struggled to not cooperate with peace, freedom among so much horror and suffering. (Y/N) showed him that life could be spent out of survival mode, that he could relax for sleep and accept another person into his bed without danger.

Having found what he always sought without knowing it, Tobirama could not afford to lose it.

Keeping her away from everything and everyone (beyond his possible jealousy) was also composed by the need to protect her, to remove her from the spotlight that inevitably comes with being the Hokage's future wife, to prevent her from being used against him. The albino's attitudes were based on affection, but now that (Y/N) is round with his creation, full of him, he can't help but proudly display her.

He strolls through the market streets with his head held high and his wife tightly in his grip, shooting hostile glances at anyone who looks at them for more than five minutes at a time. Of course he expects people to be surprised, but he doesn't want her to end up with the evil eye either.

"Hokage-Sama! Here, here!" shouts a little old lady from his favorite food stall. He can't ignore people from his village, those who trust him, and comes up to her stall to give her a smile unbecoming of Tobirama. "You look very happy, Hokage-Sama!"

"Ah... how could a man not be, having such a beautiful woman by his side?" And (Y/N) blushes, waving slightly at the little old lady and trying to hide the redness of her cheeks behind the sleeve of her yukata.

The elderly woman smiles, and hands them both a small package of food without accepting anything in return, "here, here, take this, enjoy life!" She practically pushes them out of her stall, and they resume walking to the point they agreed on with Hashirama.

People stare and stare at them, some even dare to congratulate the Hokage, give him blessings, ask if he could feel how many children are there. Some inquiries make him uncomfortable, and with just a blunt look he gets rid of those prying eyes.

They receive more gifts along the way, offerings of love and respect, food and decorations, townspeople declaring their eagerness to meet the Hokage's offspring. Tobirama would not expect to have interacted with so many people in such a short distance, and his social battery is noticeably drained, squeezing (Y/N) more and more protectively against his body.

By the time they reach Hashirama's house, the Hokage no longer wants anything to do with anyone.

"Ayoooooo! Tobi! You made it!" his older brother waits for them sitting at the door, like a little kid waiting for his dad to come home from work. The problem is, Hashirama is not a child, and not little one either. He pounces on the two, wrapping his arms around them and pressing their faces to his chest, invasive and effusive as always but enhanced by (Y/N)'s presence.

"Aaaa! (Y/N)! Finally released from your confinement! It's so beautiful to finally meet you!" Anija lets go of him, only to squeeze her separately, give her kisses on the crown of her head and clench her cheeks like a grandmother. Yes, Hashirama could be compared to a grandmother. "Have you looked... I mean, in there? See what's in there? We could ask Izuna to-"

"No."

"But-"

"No. It's a surprise." Tobirama pulls (Y/N) out of his arms, and hugging her enters the house he knows by heart. He heads straight for the courtyard, where he knows Hashirama (who comes behind him with his head down and feigning sadness) enjoys afternoons of tea.

Of course, he does not expect the surprise his brother has prepared for him there.

The whole clan, the whole damn family is gathered around a huge table, different from the one Anija prefers for his solitary lunches. Sitting in the two main seats, the Uchiha brothers, who have no business in a Senju house, full of Senju men and women.

Is this what peace looks like? Graphically represented? Tobirama wants to vomit.

"TOBIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" He is greeted by his entire family as a whole, and the elders soon hover over both of them. Females kidnap (Y/N) to shower her with questions and love, all a carbon copy of how Hashirama behaves but boosted to the tenth.

The albino is also abducted, but by the young men and his older brother, who seems to have regained his cheerfulness. They sit him down in front of the Uchiha brothers, and it's like sending a cow to the slaughter.

"Tobi Tobes... I didn't know your family called you like that, neither that your wife was SO pregnant... He hides too many things from us, right Aniki?" Izuna starts, as usual, not missing a chance to poke him with whatever comes in front of him.

"Hm."

"How many children do you have there? 3? She's... prominent!"

"Get my wife out of your mouth before I make you remember why the war existed in the first place." It's a blunt threat, and the young men around him tense up. Peace is old at this point, but the habits of a life that no longer exists are hard to forget.

"He's joking! Yes, yes, he's kidding! No tobi?" Hashirama tries to disperse the waters, and it works, at least with those who don't know them inside out. Madara knows what's coming, and so does he somehow.

"You want me to see how many are there? With the Sharingan, I mean... it's not like I actually want to get inside-"

"Izuna. Enough." Aniki tries, and succeeds until the albino glares at his little brother.

"Madara... you're blind, but if only could you see the size of that woman's belly..."

"IZUNA!" This time it's Hashirama, who gets indignant every time the Uchiha speaks so lightly about his brother's eye condition. Maybe it's the way they both have of cooperating with the situation, but it's still terrible in his ears.

The Uchiha leader chuckles under his breath, and it's all the validation Izuna needs to go on.

"So, what do you say, Tobi Tobes, want to check it out?" and before he can activate his Dōjutsu, two huge branches stop them both. Tobirama, who was in the process of pulling out a kunai and jumping to his throat, is imprisoned in his seat. Izuna, about to reveal the mystery the couple wanted to keep, has a huge trunk wrapped around his head in the eye area.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too."

"Fuck all of you guys." And everyone turns around in surprise, because this time it's (Y/N) doing the talking. She puts a hand on her husband's shoulder, dodging the wood on him, and gives a pleasant smile to the Uchiha brothers. "We'll find out how many children are here at the time of delivery, for the time being, I appreciate your efforts, Lord Izuna."

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barrenclan · 5 months

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sorry if this is spoilers bc we might learn more later. I'm super confused with Rainhaze's thought process. When he was saying its pointless. like. I get not wanting to go back bc he killed his mom. but what did that have to do with Asphodelpaw? Couldnt he just walk away? Did he see her and decide he wanted to be part of Defiance? And this was the tipping point to prove it? I'm super confused. Was it because if she left she'd tell someone? I assume we'll get a better explanation later?

Absolutely! I've actually been waiting for a chance to really dig into this. Like Rainhaze himself, his issue is written with a lot of confusion and uncertainty, and it's not very straight-forwardly, so I understand why his motivations are easy to miss. So here it is!

Firstly; Rainhaze as he existed in BarrenClan and Rainhaze as he is now are two very, very different beasts. Obviously he's still the same person, but he's gone through a mountain of trauma, violence, and was forced to confront the fact that if pressed, he would kill a family member - even his own mother. Sure, in the moment he was threatened into doing it, but it opens the possibility that he'd even do that. Maybe he would've done anything to protect his family then, but it's been a long time.

Then, over many months, he's subjected to propaganda, murder, and terrible treatment. His mental state from where he was when he killed Dustfeather is massively changed. He's depressed, listless, and much more willing to kill. Not only that, but Defiance propaganda has worked on him.

(Issue 24)

With so much constant killing in his life, and being constantly vulnerable, he begins to see death as a good thing. Something that ends suffering, something that doesn't really matter in the end.

(Issue 28)

So now we're at Issue 31. Rainhaze is in a "doldrum", like Ranger says (a period of inactivity or lethargy). He's so torn between his new life and new beliefs, and his old regrets and old connections to BarrenClan, that he's basically attempting to end his own life through inactivity. Ranger doesn't want this. Here's his plan:

Ranger knows that BarrenClan lives opposite the forest, across the prairie. He specifically orders Rainhaze to "kill something", planting that idea in his mind. He's hoping that Rainhaze will find one of his Clan members, and make the decision to kill one of them. This would push Rainhaze over into whatever full breakdown Ranger wants, and solidify his ties to Defiance. And that is what happens. So why did Rainhaze make that decision?

We already have the basis of an incredibly traumatized Rainhaze. He views himself as he is now, and who he used to be, as different people. And he belives that's completely beyond redemption.

Yes, all those months ago he promised he was suffering in Defiance for his family and Clan, but it's really hard to hold onto those noble morals when you're being put through hell every day. Rainhaze hasn't even seen his family in months. They don't seem real to him anymore.

Then he is finally confronted by Asphodelpaw, the symbol of everything he's put himself through torture to protect, and all he wants to do is go back to Defiance. And here we go, getting to these lines;

Rainhaze is a coward.

He's separated from Deepdark and Ranger, by at least several days. He could absolutely come home with Asphodelpaw and warn all of BarrenClan - they could evacuate in time, be far away by the time Defiance arrives on their territory. But then he'd have to face his family, face his sister whose mother he violently murdered. Have to stand there and have them look at him and know him and see the scars on his body.

When he says, "this is vile, pointless, irredeemable, monstrous", he understands that killing Asphodelpaw is a disgustingly cruel action. He knows that. He understands that he's choosing Defiance over her, and over them. But that's the choice he feels he needs to make to protect himself. He's not thinking about his family any more.

So he does something so completely vicious and irredeemable that he is forced to choose Defiance. Because there's no way that any BarrenClan cat would forgive him for this. There's no way he would forgive himself for this.

And thus, Rainhaze figures himself out, and burns every other bridge entirely. He makes his choice.

#ask #rainhaze #analysis #raz goes insane about rainhaze: the post

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tifaisms · 4 months

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RWBY and Trauma

So, i want to talk a little bit about RWBY. Specifically, with regards to its thematic storytelling. I think I made a post about this a few days ago but im gonna make a longer one here.

RWBY tackles a lot of themes in its storytelling. Death, grief, fear, trust, etc. to name a few.

One of the bigger themes is "keep moving forward", which was also Monty's motto. It is exemplified through the characters, both heroes and villains, and how they handle trauma and suffering.

The villains have pretty much all suffered. Salem, Cinder, Hazel, Mercury, Emerald, Roman, Neo, even Watts, all suffered. They experienced trauma, and hardship, and it shaped them.

The big difference between them and team RWBY is that they cannot move forward. Where team RWBY learn to grow and change. Salem couldn't accept loss, and grief, and instead turned those emotions to anger, same with Hazel, Adam, Neo, they all refused to move beyond their trauma. Yang put it pretty well in V8 - all this death and destruction because something bad happened to you once upon a time?

Trauma is inevitable. But the difference between the heroes and the villains is how their trauma impacts them going forward. And not just in a "the villains react negatively and the heroes don't" because Ruby reacted poorly, as did Blake, and Weiss in the early volumes. Qrow drinks to deal with it, and Ozpin let the betrayal he experienced define him.

The difference here is that the heroes try to grow and stop making their suffering everyone else's problem. You cannot use your trauma to justify lashing out at the world and other people. I think Kratos in God of War put it quite well - "Do not be sorry. Be better." You can't hurt people because you are traumatised, because all that does is traumatise everyone else. It isn't a justification for lashing out. Salem was traumatised, and she murdered so many people, and traumatised a bunch of other people, who will only continue that cycle.

It is worth noting that some of the antagonists do grow and change and become better. Ilia, Emerald, Hazel, and Neo are the big examples. They were all hurt by the world, and they turned to anger and violence. But Ilia is convinced by Blake that it isn't what she wants, and Blake is right. So Ilia turns away from that path. Hazel and Emerald both change and grow, and whilst Hazel gets the noble sacrifice, Emerald has to make amends for hurting people by being and doing better, and trying to make a positive impact on the world. And Neo had an entire arc culminating in her seeking revenge, and getting it, and realising that it was a hollow victory that left her with nothing but directionless grief and anger. When she had nothing to pursue, she was forced to confront the fact that she was just running from her actual feelings and lashing out. In the end, she chooses to go to the tree willingly, which is essentially willingly giving in to change and growth, because that's what the tree does.

The central conflict of the show is essentially that everyone has suffered, and experienced trauma. But it is the hero's ability and desire to grow beyond it and be better, so that they stop hurting the people around them, that sets them apart from the villains, who refuse to keep moving forward and instead just let their suffering infect everyone else, perpetuating an endless cycle of violence and conflict.

#rwby #very curious to rewatch v9 #its the one im most eager to rewatch #but im currently on v8 in my rewatch #its a good show #highly recommend #btw if you are arguing in bad faith on this post i will block you because if i wanted to see a clown #id go to a circus

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carionto · 7 months

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What Humans call the "Thousand Yard Stare"

As more and more Humans interact with and integrate within Coalition stations, reports, closer to hushed whispers really, began to circulate of some Humans being... discomforting... to be around.

Initially we thought it was just rudeness or passive aggressive behavior or any number of subtle actions or choice of words, no matter how advanced or civilized there will always be some assholes.

However, when some of these "offenders" were presented to us peacekeepers, we found them to be perfectly polite and reasonable. As our conversation continued and shifted topics, whenever there was a lull or the focus was on another speaker for a longer time, the Human's gaze drifted somewhat.

Sometimes she would look to the side and it was harder to tell what her exact expression was, but every so often she would be looking at one of us, but... not. It was as if she was staring at something behind us, through us even. Beyond the walls of the station, it even felt as though beyond space and time itself.

It was one of the most unnerving and chitin-chilling feelings we've ever felt, but then the Human seemed to notice our change and became that friendly and cheerful person once again:

"Sorry, my mind drifted there for a bit. What were you saying?"

And the conversation continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary for the Human.

Upon our return to our office, one of the Human peacekeepers heard about our impromptu assignment and offered this explanation after we told him what happened:

"Oh yeah, I think that person was a retired firefighter or rescue worker of some kind. Professions like that can be dangerous and you'll eventually encounter something horrible at a disaster site or crime scene. Probably saw someone die, or a person they rescued later didn't make it, or it was a kid... It's the toughest when you're the last one a child sees before..."

There it is again. That look, but with a tinge of sadness this time. We didn't know he was carrying such memories. The untimely death of anyone is a difficult time for those that survive, especially when it is the young whose life was still just starting. It seems Humans with their heightened senses and sensitivity to the feelings of others these kind of experiences imprint a far stronger memory than for most.

"Anyway, we've got a bunch of names for such things, but typically we call it the thousand yard stare. It's an old measurement unit, don't worry about it. I think the meaning may have changed a bit over the years, but basically some people go through traumatic stuff and they decide, consciously or not, to sort of... detach themselves from reality. It's a coping mechanism.

A few people thrive on horrible things, but they're the exception. Most of us would go crazy or depressed or any other infinite bad possibilities our brains can go in if we don't find a way to separate ourselves from certain realities. It can get real bad otherwise. It's rare, but a few go truly nuts and try to inflict their pain unto others. Most end up suffering alone for a long time. And some can't take it anymore and decide to end it themselves.

Thankfully therapists and support options are widely available, so those kind of scenarios are really rare, like... suicide accounts for about three out of a hundred thousand deaths last time I saw those charts. Plus drones and automation take care of most of the dangerous tasks, leaving the vast majority of cases to be caused by interpersonal relations actually. A broken heart is one of those traumas we'll never get rid of it seems. That's just life, I guess."

#humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #I don't know if these tags are actually appropriate for this one #it feels weird writing about depressing adjacent topics like that #one one hand #I don't feel good about it #on the other #I feel I have to put it into words or it'll leave a stain in my brain #sometimes words are more like a tumor #and the only way to get rid of it is to transfer them to a public space #carionto

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avatarkv · 1 year

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III ! I watch the fathers with their little girls and wonder what I did to deserve this, (How could you hurt a little kid?)

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing. (First | Second)

Content & warning: Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 3538)

This is like stones in your heart.

The journey felt like forever; soaring high above the lush forests of pandora and just beyond the great currents. The rush of wind was nauseating– a stark contrast to the fluttering feeling when you’re amidst the warm orange glow across the sky, the thrill of flying over the vibrant forest. It was as if the scent of the trees and the sounds of the animals below called for all you, bidding their goodbyes. You marveled at the beauty nonetheless– home. This was home and you couldn’t help but doubt your father again, asking yourself how he could ever stomach leaving.

You’re too young to feel this kind of hurt, you think, but could you still consider yourself a child after so many losses? Your Ikran would slightly falter whenever your mind drifted too far, thoughts taunting you to no end.

“Ma’ite,” Neytiri would softly call for you with Tuk hugging her tightly near her chest. You were sandwiched between her ikran and your father’s, throwing you glances every second. They were worried, you couldn’t even sit upright. Jake’s heart faltered every look shot towards him by his mate, but he couldn’t risk stopping; the enemy could be sleeping anywhere for all he knows. Everyone had to move forward.

When you finally arrived at Awa’atlu, the people there weren't exactly welcoming. Your skin felt slight discomfort, burning against the ambience and sand. It felt weird under the soles of your feet and it would sink slightly with every step. You approached the clan, hands upward like your father’s. They avoided you like the plague– like your family was some sort of incurable disease that they wouldn’t dare touch. Tonowari, the clan’s olo’eyktan, was condoling enough– unlike his hostile wife. She had addressed everyone with great disdain and perhaps, rightfully so. Ronal was skeptical– untrusting.

Demon-blood, she openly disclosed, tightly gripping your sister’s hands for everyone to see. You immediately pushed Kiri behind you, suppressing a hiss that threatened to leave your throat. “We are na’vi!” The look your father shot at you was enough reason to pipe down and let him do the talking, extremely careful not to enrage the Tsahik already.

Something softened inside her from seeing the troubled family. Ronal is Tsahik, but a mother nonetheless. She knew very well the struggle. After exchanging knowing looks, Tonowari approached Jake and granted them Uturu.

“Teach them our ways,” He had announced to the clan which was met with a few gasps of disbelief, “So they don’t suffer the shame of being useless.”

Their lifestyle intimidated you, Tonowari was right. You felt like a toddler taking your first step and it made your heart heavy. Everything you have ever known and learned– gone. You had no choice but to power through. Tsireya and Rotxo were accommodating, the kindest souls who had ever approached you since coming here. Ao’nung was a pain in the ass, but for the sake of keeping up images, you knew better than to piss him off.

“Breathe in,” Tsireya instructed while everyone inhaled, “And breathe out. Imagine flickering a flame– slow down your heartbeat.” While Tsireya was hospitable, she was a relentless teacher, absolutely eager to teach everyone their ways. Kiri seemed to have gotten the hang of it already and although you couldn't admit it, it set a pang of jealousy inside you.

You thought you’d learn in a span of days, letting yourself go easy the first few weeks but time passed quickly, blurring alongside the thrashing waves and the seafoam. Your body burned from fatigue, but your mind was the heaviest of all. It remained a mess and it did not help with your training, oh Eywa, you were falling behind– it was almost a month. A month of you trying to control your Ilu.

Ao’nung was equally frustrated, angry even. Not only was he wasting his time babysitting the Sullys’, you just couldn’t get the hang of it. His patience was wearing thin, if not nonexistent already. The olo’eyktan’s son tried to steady his breathing as he watched you situate yourself above the Ilu once again, hands grasping on the handles tightly. You lowered your body, chest meeting the creature’s back with a deep sigh.

“Control your form,” He reminded, “This is like riding your Ikran, tell them what to do. Clear your mind.” It was a mantra at this point, you swear you could even hear his voice while you slept. You knew very well you weren’t doing good, but it was your damn best already. Although Ao’nung wasn’t the friendliest, he did his part as a mentor nonetheless; he had carefully explained the technique, demonstrated it for you, and even spent time riding with you on its back to help you get a feel for it– but as the sun began to set over the tranquil waters, it was another reminder that you had to try again tomorrow.

You weren’t gonna give up so easily, despite the many bruises and scratches from the nearby corals whenever the Ilu would throw you off. With a determined nod, you asked it to go. The water rippled around you as you surged forward, pushing the creature to its ability, but as you went deeper, your mind had drifted once again to another memory.

The sun was just beginning to rise over the Hallelujah Mountains, casting a golden glow over the lush, verdant jungle below. You and your brothers each had mounted on your Ikrans, soared high above the treetops, their wings slicing through the crisp morning air. Neteyam let out a wild whoop of excitement, egging you on to pick up your pace. You responded with a grin, urging your Ikran to tilt her wings to gain speed and keep up with your brother's soaring figure.

While everyone weaved through the trees, their ikran's agile bodies allowed them to execute the most incredible maneuvers. The sun was now high in the sky, casting dappled shadows over the forest floor as the siblings continued their exhilarating race. Lo’ak struggled, the rush of wind hitting him straight to the face from behind. He groaned, feeling displeasure in letting his older siblings best him again. Neteyam cast a knowing glance, tilting his head towards him– you could only grin in approval.

He slowed down slightly, causing you to lag behind his Ikran. Lo’ak took this as an advantage and immediately surged forward. Your ikrans let out triumphant roars as they touched down and you could already see the smug smile plastered on your younger brother’s face as he approached you.

“Neteyam, did you see that?” He beamed in pride, hitting his brother in the shoulder. “Sis, this has got to be one of your bad days, hate to break it to ya.” He continued, saying how none of you should not have slacked and that he would never let this day live down ever– Lo’ak is a man of his words. The moment you returned back to the clan, it was all he could tell; he couldn’t stop talking about his win and you indulged him nonetheless.

“Mighty warrior,” Neteyam teased, putting his weight on Lo’ak’s shoulders as he tried to shake him off. “Maybe you can beat me in training next time then.” The laugh that erupted your throat was painful– too painful, you couldn’t breathe.

You flailed your arms in panic, suddenly aware of the lack of oxygen on your chest and your Ilu was long gone. You tried to shout, but your voice was lost in the roar of the waves crashing against you and was only met with bubbles gushing out your mouth. You kicked your legs violently, trying to swim above. You couldn’t see anything but the murky depths of the sea and you felt weaker by the second, muscles burning from the strain. This was it. Eywa had cursed you the death of being useless and you failed once again.

Maybe you weren’t cut out for this– weren’t used to sticking out like a sore thumb. You were your brother’s shadow and you liked it that way, being there with him through thick and thin. Now that he was gone, there was no shade to hide from the glaring sun and you had no choice but to stare back. Your mind was clouded with nothing but fear and desperation, most of all guilt. Your lungs ached from the lack of oxygen and before your body could finally still, a hand reached out and grabbed your arm. As you resurfaced, you coughed up water and gasped for air, body shivering against him as your hold tightened around his figure, but Ao’nung didn’t relent.

“What was that?” He barked as you two neared the shore, approaching the concerned expressions of your siblings. Ao’nung immediately retracts from your hold, nudging you off. “Something is blocking your mind and I could not care less for whatever it is. Get it off your head and stop being so incompetent– even Tuk can manage.”

He’s then met with a harsh shove from Lo’ak. “She’s new to this, cut her some slack bro.”

“It’s been weeks, she could’ve died there!” Tsireya held him back, shooting him a glare. He could only run a hand through his hair, anger wavering and was replaced with an equal pounding heart. “Great mother, help this sad excuse of a Na’vi.”

You hung your head in shame, feeling absolutely small and foolish. You were burning from embarrassment, the coldness from drowning immediately leaving your body. Their argument blurred from the background, only feeling Kiri’s hands searching your skin for any serious injuries. She then nudged your stiff shoulders softly, muttering a series of “Are you okay” and “Did it hurt?”. Vehemently shaking your head, you stormed off and made your way back to your pod.

You passed by Jake who was sharpening his hunting spear and immediately, he felt the aura you emitted. It was ominous– sad. He looks around for Neytiri, only to meet an empty space. He knew he had to deal with this one, “What’s wrong kid?” You heard him ask, but your reply still bubbled like acid inside your stomach, mouth opening only to close it shut again.

When he doesn’t get an answer, he finally approaches you and realizes you were hyperventilating– shaking. Your face was wet with tears and your fists were tightly clenched. He places a hand on your shoulder only for you to draw back sharply, almost as if his slightest touch had burned you and that was what put you on edge– the breaking point.

“I want to go home!” You cried, voice cracking and laced with nothing but longing. You circled around the Marui frantically and away from him, “Why are we here?”

He didn’t understand why you were mad at him. The look you threw was nauseating– a look you’ll never want to receive from your child. It was full of hate, borderline disgust. He slowly exhaled from his nose, exhausted himself. Jake just got back from a hunt with Tonowari and today wasn’t on his side either, having to embarrass himself multiple times in front of the clan’s olo’eyktan and his warriors. He’d be a big fat liar if he said that the training was a piece of cake, that he already got the hang of it.

The last thing he wanted now was to argue with his daughter, but the way his chest tightened told him that he needed to let it out. “You know damn well, __” His tone was steady, slowly brewing like the calm before a raging storm.

“No, why are we running? Why are we here when we could have ended the war back in the forest? Let it remain there instead of having it roam around to search for us?" You replied, “Do they know that? Are they aware that we’re only bringing them here?”

His fear was only now confirmed and he fought the urge to hang his head low and dissociate. You blamed him, he thought, and the creeping insecurities of being a father had once again rushed inside, now double in size. Jake thought he was doing good– better, even, but after all the occurrences and the strings he had to pull, there was no more proving himself. For a moment, he felt human again– unwanted. Right now he was just that sad marine who had lost everything and had nothing at all.

He palmed his face in frustration, unable to explain himself properly. “This is our last chance for home, do you hear me? No one is coming, no one!” His voice heightened, figure slightly towering over you. “Pull your weight–, bare some teeth and show skin. It’s just an Ilu, for Christ’s sake!” Of course he was aware of how his children struggled, listening attentively while they talked between meals or when they got back from a tiring day.

“You don’t understand! I didn’t grow here– throw me into the sea and they spit me right back out. I don’t belong here!” You responded in the same fierceness, chin raising. “I want to go home!”

“Then go! You’re so desperate to follow in your brother’s footsteps, then you might as well go! Get yourself killed there, is that what you want?” The loud snort he let out was only a hard jab to your beaten stomach. A father shouldn’t be his daughter’s first heartbreaker– hell, he should be the one to instill fear in whoever dares lay a finger even, but here he was, watching you crumble in front of him and it was from his own words.

You couldn’t help the frown deepening your features and he wanted nothing more than to rush to you in an embrace– to take back what he said, but your siblings had hurriedly entered the pod with Neytiri trailing behind with a basket of fruits she just washed. “What do you intend to do, let the whole clan know that you two are fighting?” She had butted in, pitch not the lowest either. Neytiri immediately rushes to you, while the others stand unmoving at the mouth of the Marui.

You missed your father; perhaps it was the reason for this argument boiling over. You haven’t talked to him ever since arriving at Awa’atlu, nor had he regarded you with even a faint nod. It took a toll on you, not having your father’s recognition. When you seeked the comfort of his arms back at home, he had only stared and while it was little no nothing at all, it gnawed your insides. You feared that he blamed you– it was your fault that he had to bury his child. The stupidest part of you hoped that he didn’t, that he was still your mighty warrior– his first baby girl.

The way he stood now, gaze still unwavering and cold, had crushed that small hope of yours.

The creases on your forehead was long gone as your legs threatened to cave in, “I wish you were more of a father than whatever a Toruk Makto is,”

You missed the way his ears flattened, the way his look had finally faltered. Neytiri had engulfed you in a hug, almost like she was trying to undo what you said. You could only hear his steps retreating and Tuk calling for your father– you could only cry harder when you felt the hands of your family, pulling you into a tighter embrace.

The night loomed heavily.

You desperately tugged on the woven cloth pulled up below your chin. You were no stranger to the lulling waves anymore, but you felt that the evening’s air was denser; it carried along a certain guilt you desperately sought to leave behind, and yet it continues to deprive you of rest. Everyone was soundly asleep, too tired to discuss today’s occurrences and too scared of what might leave their mouths the further it unravels. They were pretty good at doing just that– it was so unlikely for everyone to share their feelings, to tell each other where it hurts and where it’s heavy. You wondered how many more bottles could be filled before they realize that it’s already leaking from the brim, that it’s fine to let it all out before keeping it all in again.

Looking at everyone, you were almost convinced that they would never and that made you want to shout at your family– ask them why you were the only one crying your eyes out and mourning him to no end. It was confusing, so confusing for a child; just where do you unload all this grief?

Your father had not yet returned after the argument and while Neytiri assured you that he only needed air, you couldn’t help but feel worried. The night continued on without any sight of him and your stomach would only churn impossibly tighter.

The pod was silent except for your family’s soft snores and your own ragged breathing– tears streamed down your face and your body racked with sobs as you desperately tried to stifle them. You tried to breathe through your mouth, your nose too clogged to even function, and your chest heaved deeply with every attempt. Suddenly, a hand landed on your waist and for a second, you were still, afraid that you might have woken someone up– but the night continued on with the same silence and you were forced to turn your body to check.

Tuk immediately buries her face against your chest, wriggling her body closer to yours. You waited until she was completely unmoving again before you could let out a sigh of relief, stroking her hair gently.

“I dream about him sometimes,” Her whisper startled you. It sounded so small it could go unnoticed, but the way it muffled and vibrated off your chest told you that Tuk was indeed awake and speaking. You waited for her to continue, rubbing soft circles on her back. “He's still in the forest and we play there, just like before.”

You swallowed hard, trying to will the tears away. “Yeah? How’s he looking over there?”

“Mighty,” Tuk replies with a giggle, “Kiri and Lo’ak would sometimes be with us too and we would go on adventures–! could you believe that? Neteyam is finally letting me go with the bigger kids now.”

You let her ramble, listening intently to her stories and what her dreams contained. There was a sense of normality to hearing her talk without a problem, Tuk had that kind of power– trust her to lighten up a gloomy room. You couldn’t even remember the time you had a conversation as heartfelt as this, just you and your little sister. She continued babbling, drawing shapes on your stomach and tracing the stripes on your skin.

“But you know, you’ve never joined us– never seen you in my dream even once.” Her voice starts to lower again as she digs her head further into your chest, hugging you closer, “I miss him too, tsmuke, but I think I miss you more now. I hardly see you and you’re just right here– feels like I'm losing you too.”

Your eyes widen. You forget that Tuk is still a child– literally years younger and that must be so confusing for a little girl; it was impossible for her thin arms and small fingers to hold shards of grief that continues to wound you, let alone for all the family– so just what were you doing? Why are you letting her carry such a burden already?

You start to sob again and you feel the same wetness against your chest. You frantically search for her face and desperately try to wipe the tears falling from her eyes, peppering her with kisses all over as you let out apologies. Every sorry grew miserable, slurring with each peck and she would only cry harder. “I’m here, sweet child, just here.” You would comfort her, “If you feel troubled, come to me, yeah? Your sister is strong– let her carry everything for you, alright?”

Her hand reaches up, attempting to wipe away your tears as well. You both stared at each other and it was enough words said; only now can you see her troubled doe eyes and it pierces through your heart with a thousand more needles. This was your epiphany; the realization that everyone endured differently and no matter how much you wept, they mourned just the same– hurt just as bad. You had to move forward, even if it meant letting your condolences rest.

Unknowingly, your father listened just outside, his heart wringing him of any more emotions. He knew very well how he failed as a father. He missed his son– misses him terribly. His eyes were locked on the handle of his dagger, fingers tracing against the messily etched names of his children on the wooden hilt. A reminder of what he was fighting for– of who he was trying so hard to protect, and yet he still needed to bury his eldest and break the heart of his daughter. Maybe Eywa did turn his back on the chosen one already, maybe his luck had already run out.

This is like stones in his heart, and he could never lessen the weight.

☆ mauve here! finally finished with chapter 3, had to rewrite this like one or two times. it was a pain in my ass, im crying hahah will be inactive for a week! traveling to the rural and the signal there is whack. special tag for @eywas-heir bec i love her SMOOCH

Tags: @aonungsmate @cappsikle @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @dearstell @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @aleracrovn

#mauve writes ☆#family angst #sully family x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #angst #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water

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daemon-in-my-head · 21 days

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I think a prerequisite to understanding Durge and Gortash is understanding the movie Midsommar and its ending. Or rather, how people get lured into cults. It's probably weird to some, but people do incredibly fucked up shit as long as they're lonely enough. As long as they are starved of enough affection.

These guys were completely isolated. One murdered everyone they ever knew without meaning to, only to be snatched up by the person that would manipulate them, and the other one was rejected and discarded by everyone they loved before his brain could even develop properly. They were alone. The entire fucking world rejected them. Nobody batted an eye when they were suffering far beyond what anyone should have to go through. Everyone that mattered to them disappeared in the blink of an eye. At least Gortash certainly spent years like that, for Durge it's implied but tbf the initial event alone would've been traumatic enough.

And then, eventually, when they were at complete rock bottom, after suffering so much, so long, someone came along and offered them acceptance. Offered them affection, offered them the chance to belong somewhere. To have a place to be, a role to play. To be someone. To find people with the same mindset. To find people to admire and to be admired by. They were offered an escape from the overwhelming loneliness and grief. They were offered to be accepted for once.

People will ruin themselves to fit in or to gain the love of another. And they did just that. They blindly ran into the knife because they were promised to belong for once. Because of the simple promise they wouldn't be rejected.

It doesn't rectify what they did, but gods is it understandable that they did what they did. People have done worse for less. They are vile. They're monsters. They're horrible beings. But they were conditioned into it. They were manipulated to such a frightening degree that they willingly chose to follow masters who would torment them even after death, knowing what they were getting into, but still choosing it just to escape the fucking loneliness. They gave themselves up just to belong. They certainly are to blame, but so are the people who's sins they've inherited.

And just to be clear, that's also the major difference between Karlach and Gortash. Karlach initially grew up being somewhere, being accepted, being loved. Yes, she, too, was betrayed and sold, but she was an adult when it happened. She knew love. She knew what it was like. She could rely on that glimmer of a hope that the world didn't outright despise her. Gortash didn't. He was sold as a fucking child. He never knew. He didn't have the resources. He was just fucking desperate and already broken and crushed in ways you could never break Karlach. She had loving parents. Gortash's mother wished she would've killed him before he was even born. Karlach was loved once, Gortash has ever since been told the world would've been a better place if he simply didn't exist.

Also, congratulations, this makes durgetash so much more painful to think about. Cuz they were willing to reject whatever helped them survive for the affection of one another.

#cw abuse #cw cults #bg3 spoilers #enver gortash #durge #durgetash

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thought--bubble · 2 months

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In Need of an Heir Pt 8

Aemond X (Baratheon! Reader)

Warnings after the cut

In Need of an Heir Masterlist

Canon Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Dividers and Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: minor attempted Non-con Reader discretion advised.

Aemond watches your form retreat down the hallway. His heart tells him to chase after you to fix the situation, but his mind tells him there is no use. You hate him. As you should. As everyone should.

Aemond turns around to head back to his own chambers. He has no desire to walk to gardens without you and chooses to wallow in self-pity. He berates himself the entire walk back. Why would I ask her if she's trying to escape? She was simply telling me what kind of books she likes! I couldn't possibly be this bad at general conversation?

As he arrives at his chambers, his mother and Criston Cole are stationed outside the door. His entire body instantly tenses. He is in no mood for this.

"NO" is the only thing he says as he gets nearer. "Not today, no." He moves to open the door to his chamber when Alicent places her hand on the door solemn expression on her face.

"It's Aegon, the maesters...... they don't think there is much time left...... he wishes to see you." Her voice trembles, wirh the ache of a mother who has watched her children fall one by one. The slow, painful death of her eldest son has aged her beyond repair.

"He's in his rooms?" Aemond asks without turning his head. He can not bear to look into the eyes of his mother as her heart breaks again. The guilt of the role he played in the injuries his brother sustained plague him every time he looks into her eyes.

"Yes, please go see him. Even if just for a moment, " she pleads while tightly gripping his forearm.

Aemond gently removes her hand from his arm and gives it a gentle squeeze as he keeps his sight on her chapped and torn fingers.

"I will see it done"

Aemond takes off towards Aegon's rooms, nausea curling its way up his spine growing to a tightening in his chest. This may be one of the last moments he gets to spend with his brother. With his sister, Heleana, and his brother Daeron long dead, the ache in his chest burns hot.

As he approaches the door to Aegon's chambers, the maester is exiting his face says it all.

"How is he then?" Aemond makes sure that his voice comes out strong and sure, although the little brother inside him is weeping.

"The wounds he suffered in battle. The infections we've fought them as best we can for as long as we could, but I'm afraid..... I'm afraid there isn't much else we can do. I've offered to make him comfortable, but he refuses milk of the poppy"

Aemond nods his head and swallows back the pained expression that is attempting to claw its way onto his face.

He releases a deep sigh as he pushes open the door. It smells like death. The smell was reminiscent of Viserys as he withered away and died. His son was somehow doomed to the same fate.

Yet Aegon was a stronger man. One would never have estimated the man Aegon grew to be. Even as he was slowly engulfed by the stranger, he made plans and put things in place to ensure his family would be ok upon his death. Something his father could never do.

"Aegon?" Aemond walked closer to the bed chamber tentatively. He wanted to see his brother while simultaneously not wanting to see his brother. Not like this.

In a garbled, broken voice, Aegon called out to him. "Aemond? Brother?"

Aemond pushes through the curtains that had been hung before the bedchamber to give Aegon some privacy and the comfort of darkness and sat in the chair by his bedside.

Aemond looked ahead. Looking at Aegon in this state was too much to bare. His screams at rooks rest echo through the recesses of Aemond's mind. The night Aemond had spent running through the dragon battle in his mind, what could he have done differently? To save his brother and keep him whole? Unfortunately, he would never know the answer.

"The stranger will be coming for me soon," Aegon manages to say between labored gasps. "I wanted so badly to make it long enough to see your son. To see our future, but the gods have different plans, it seems." Aemond sits silently unsure of what he should say, his eldest brother, his last sibling is dying before his eyes, and there is not a thing he can do to stop it. The grief and helplessness taking their toll.

"I need you to promise, brother. You will not stop until you have a son, and you will marry that son to Jaheara." Aegon lays with his eyes closed his hand grasping tightly to Aemonds.

"This was already decided, brother." Aemond replies, unsure of why Aegon would ask this.

"By me. The king. As we both very well know the word of a king holds no weight once he is dead." Aegon coughs and gasps for air while Aemond watches his insides twisting and turning. This is his brother. His last sibling slowly slipping through his fingers. He grips Aegons hand tighter, silently begging him not to let go.

"I wish for Jaheara to be queen. She is all that is left of me, all that is left of Heleana, but I will not foolishly send her to the slaughter by naming her heir. I'm a smarter man than my father. I love my daughter enough to know that I do not wish the realm to turn upon her."

Aemond watches as Aegon again struggles for air. Through garbled breath, he is able to get out one final sentence. "Please don't swear to your king, promise your brother, Jaheara will be queen, married to your son and protected for always." Aegon grasps Aemonds hands his fingernails biting at his skin.

"I promise, I will see it done." Aemond then sits by Aegon's side for a few hours, watching him struggle to breathe until he drifts off to sleep. Aemond gets up and walks to the end of the bedchamber before looking back at Aegon, and he feels it.

"Goodbye, brother."

Aemond leaves him in the care of the maesters and stalks of toward his rooms thats where he had planned to go anyway yet his feet pull him in a different direction and by the time he is able to pull himself out of his own thoughts he is standing before the door of your chambers.

He bangs on the door more than knocks. His brother is dying, his sister is dead, and their daughter, the only one he didn't get killed, needs him, and he is failing her spectacularly.

A maid opens the door, looking up at Aemond with trepidation. "My prince".

"Is my wife in?" The disdain behind his tone at the pronunciation of the word "wife" was not lost on the maid who nodded her head quickly while slightly shrinking back.

"Y-yes, my prince, she is in the bath"

Without another word to the maid, Aemond pushes through into the room where you are currently getting your hair washed.

"Leave us." Aemond enunciated the venom laced words quickly, and both maids scatter from the room.

You sit in the tub facing away from him, your heart pounding like a hammer in your chest. This tone of voice you had never heard from him. This isn't his usual cool stoism. No, it is clear what this is. This is anger.

You try to speak, but words escape you as you internally curse the gods for sending him here now while you are naked wet and vulnerable. Your first thought is that you need to make yourself less vulnerable immediately.

You move to get out of the tub but are quickly pulled back down by your hair, causing water to splash up and over the sides. You grip the sides of the tub in panic.

"Sit wife. You must finish your hair. " He again pronounces the word" wife "with vitriol as goosebumps travel up your spine and onto your neck. You are no coward, but you are also not and idiot. This is a dragon. A pissed off dragon, and you are at a grave disadvantage.

"Is there something the matter, Lord husband?" You attempt to keep your voice strong. You can't afford to show him weakness, not in this moment.

"Of course not. Can a husband not assist his wife?" He starts to wash out the soap and oils from your hair, his grip is firm, and he tugs along your hair. There is no gentleness or sensuality to be seen.

"This can not go on," he states plainly. Before you can respond, he continues to speak, "You are my wife. I need you to start acting like it"

He pulls your head back by your hair, your neck cranes over the back of the tub, and he looks down into your eyes. "We will perform our duty tonight. You will come to my chambers after dinner. Do you understand?"

You nod, just wanting to end this moment your vulnerable neck splayed out and naked body just under the surface of the water.

"Good, that's good." He releases your hair and continues to rinse it, massaging at your scalp tenderly. The mixture of violence and gentleness, the telltale sign of a dragon.

You sit in the tub, your shoulders tense, not making a sound.

"Relax, dear wife. I am not going to harm you. I am your protector, after all. " He finishes rinsing your hair and moves to get you a towel.

"After dinner tonight, you will come to my rooms, and we will consummate this marriage"

He holds the towel open for you as you rise out of the tub, not saying a word. You wrap the towel around yourself averting your eyes from him.

You would not show him weakness, yet you would not stand in direct opposition. A true strategy is smart, not brash. It is thought out in the mind not played out through the heart.

Aemond nods towards you one more time before abruptly leaving your chambers. As soon as he is gone, you squeak out a cry. The tension you had been holding comes flooding out. You sit down on your bed, your face in your hands.

Your entire body trembles as you try and piece together exactly what just happened. What happened to make him change his behavior towards you so drastically?

You move quickly to get into your clothes for dinner, your mind racing. Why is he being like this so suddenly?

You knew a time would come when he would demand the marriage be consummated, the fact he hadn't already made that demand had surprised you but the way he addressed it today, the anger he contained yet also expressed towards you was off putting. You wanted more than anything to feign illness and skip dinner so you could hide away in your chambers or somehow escape the castle altogether.

Knowing that was impossible you dredged on, getting ready on your own being in no mood to have your maids around. You choose a basic dress, nothing fancy.

You begrudgingly make your way to the dining area and are shocked to see only Jaheara and her maid there since you had put off going to the last possible moment you should be last not first.

You sit down and the dining staff move about quietly keeping their heads down. The ominous silence in the room setting alarm bells off in your head. They should be here. Aemond not showing up isn't surprising. Aegon as well since he's so sick, but Alicent would not leave Jaheara to have dinner alone without a damn good reason.

After you and Jaheara finish eating, you go to Aemond's chambers as he had ordered but find them empty. Maybe he was just in a foul mood and did not intend to hold you to his earlier demand? One could only hope.

That couldn't be it. There is something much more serious amiss. The hallways are quiet. the rooms are empty, and you haven't seen one member of the royal family, save for the only living child.

You arrive back to your chambers and wait. You know eventually someone will let you know what is happening and with your current relationship with your husband being in the sorry state that it was waiting to be alerted to the comings and goings is really all you could do.

Minutes turned to hours as you sat before the hearth waiting for a knock on the door, screams down the hall. something. Anything would be better than waiting like this.

Yet as the night got later, the answer never came. Until you finally acquiesed to your need for rest. You blow out the last candle by the side of your bed, and that is the last thing you remember until you are awoken into a nightmare.

"Wake up, wife." The raspy words of your husband wake you in a daze as he tears the blankets off of your sleeping form. The sudden chill and the energy radiating off of your husband made it easier to alert to full attention.

"Aemond what has happened?" You attempt to sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes.

"What has happened?" He scoffs. His voice is higher pitched. manic.

"What has happened is tomorrow i will be crowned king of the seven kingdoms and I have no heir. I have not even consummated my marriage" He nearly barks at you.

Your face contorts in confusion. "Tomorrow? What-"

Before you can get the words out Aemond has climbed in your bed and drags you toward him by your thigh.

You immediatly react by kicking your free leg. "Stop it!"

Aemond moves up the length of your body and snatches you by the chin. "Listen here, wife, you will be quiet and do your duty in giving me the heir that the kingdom requires. Are you capable of that? Or must I dispatch of you and get me a wife, that is?"

His pupil is blown and staring back at you wildly, and you know. Fighting him now will only get you hurt or killed.

You lay your head back and turn it to the side. "Do what you must, husband." You say the final word with all the distaste he had been showing you as of late.

You feel him moving your legs and positioning himself above you as you blankly stare at the wall trying to count the cracks between the stones in order to disconnect your mind from your body as you await the intrusion. The intrusion that doesn't come.

Aemond hovers above you for what feels like hours but could realistically only be a few minutes before he brings his forehead down to your chest.

"I can't do it this way. " The words are muffled into your chest hardly audible as you feel tears hit your skin. His tears. Aemond brings his hands down to your waist and holds on tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry".

You don't move or speak, you just listen. The sounds of his quiet sobs and your barely audible breathing the only noise in the room.

"Forgive me" He whispers quietly before placing one delicate kiss on your chest and removing himself from your bed. Quickly collecting the clothing items he had left at your bedside and disappearing back out into the castle leaving you visibly shaken.

"Tomorrow he will be crowned king?" You feel panic rise and bubble in your chest, as it starts to actually settle in what just happened to you. What the pressure almost made him do.

Tomorrow he would be King, which means you would be Queen and both your family and the realm are in need of an heir.

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dailyadventureprompts · 4 months

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Homebrew Mechanic: Battles of Attrition

I think we can all agree that there’s something a little wonky with how d&d’s combat system changes between the early and mid/late game. Heroes go from being rightfully cautious about danger to being outright banal about it, confident that their accumulated power will be enough to dispatch all but the most outstanding foes. The traditional solution is to put them up against stronger enemies but in my experience these mismatched encounters are a failing proposition: combat just gets more swingy and there’s only so many high level threats I can throw at them in a short period of time before it begins to strain credulity.

While a lot of folks (Especially the OSR crowd) have taken the stance that 5e is broken because of how much it empowers players, I think the real fault lays with the lack of systems that exist to provide challenge outside of anything related to the damage based tug-of-war that is combat. I think a lot of those systems were part of the non existent “exploration” pillar of the game before Hasbro realized they could make easy money selling the game in its unfinished state and gutted it along with the development team.

Thankfully, I and other homebrewers are around to do what the megacorporations cant, namely have some original thoughts and try and figure out a way to add challenge back to the game without resenting those playing it for having fun.

TLDR: Trying to make our games challenging by upping damage numbers in combat is a losing proposition, in no small part because that part of the game is DESIGNED around the heroes winning. Instead, we up the overall difficulty by making them temporarily weaker with systems like sickness, stress, exhaustion, & item degradation. All of which I have details and guidelines on below the cut.

First and foremost let me state some of my goals for these “attrition systems”, so we can all be on the same page. Whenever I make homebrew rules I try for something that’s going to require little to no paperwork on behalf of the players and can be seamlessly implemented into my DMing style. It’s not about realism, it’s not about punishing players, this is a way for me to add mechanical depth without bogging down the machine entirely.

Attrition should be largely non-permanent. The 5e audience invests a lot in their characters both emotionally and mechanically, so it won’t do to pile on debilitating debuff after debuff to the point of making a character useless.

There should be an inverse relationship between the severity of the affliction and how long it lasts. Think in term of encounters, days, or weeks, (with the understanding that an attrition that goes on for long enough becomes a questhook in itself)

The exception to this rule is if someone hits 0 hitpoints. I’m outspoken in my stance that characters should only die when it’s alternatively appropriate, but the dm is at liberty to inflict thematically devastating setbacks in the unlikely event that the party DOES suffer losses in the damage tug of war.

We want to be sparing with how much attrition we throw at the party at once, so as to not create a “death spiral” where failures compound upon one another and make getting through the adventure impossible.

In most cases suffering Attrition should be something the party is able to avoid by being fast/lucky/cautious/clever or whatever else the encounter requires. It’s there to add weight and consequence to their actions, and as a factor for DMs to build scenarios around.

Exhaustion: Unlike a lot of the other changes made in Oned&d, I actually quite like the overhaul of “each point of exhaustion is a cumulative -1 to all d20 rolls and spell dc, beyond 10 is death” as it allows us to play with exhaustion far more readily as an attrition.

Every night you don’t rest in a haven (a safe comfortable place) you need to make a con save or take a point of exhaustion, with the ruggedness of the environment determining the DC. Characters with the survival skill or natural explorer feat don’t have to make this roll. Only rest in a haven removes exhaustion at the rate of one point per night (though spaces like a luxury inn or a peaceful glade watched over by friendly fey may restore more)

Hitting 0 hp and then being healed gives you a point of exhaustion. Nothing’s going to tire you out like getting magically defibulated so now everyone can stop complaining about healing word spam.

Poison: For our purposes, the “poisoned” condition as written is too severe. Disadvantage on all attacks and ability checks is downright punishing for anything other than a single battle. Instead we’re going to make it work like charmed, where there’s a baseline effect for the purposes of resistance, but the status of each poison is dependant on the source.

Poison falls in the “ short term big effect” side of attrition, specifically undermining a player’s ability to do most things since most effects end on a successful save or at the end of an encounter. Long lasting poisons should have more minor effects than the default poisoned condition, only applying to a few types of rolls or having a bane-like effect that makes judging the odds just a little bit more difficult.

This makes poison great to use for dungeons and short-ranging exploration where the party is likely to face multiple encounters in one day.

Diseases: 4e aced the design of these maladies by treating them as a contained skill challenge with their own CR with various stages: stage 0: you were cured, stage 1: you suffered the initial effect, stage 2 or 3: you suffered a severe effect, with the final stage (3-4) being some effect that made the disease permanent. When you got a disease it was usually stage 1, and you (usually) saved for it at the start of each day. Beating the DC by 5 or more meant you went down a stage (closer to 0), where as simply succeeding meant it stayed as bad as it was. Failing meant you got sicker, meaning a character could bounce up and down in wellness as an adventure went on.

Diseases are best for longterm adventures, and often undermine one particular aspect of a character ( healing, actions assosiated with a particular stat). Counterpoint to poisons, diseases should start out fairly gentle and then get worse the longer they’re left alone, leading to eventually devastating effects.

Curses: While borrowing the mechanics of diseases, I’d have curses be specifically weirder in their effects. The sort of thing that can make up the central hook or b-plot of a whole adventure. This should also mean that curses are the hardest for the party to stumble into, but also the hardest to shake.

Item Degradation: Detailed in a previous post HERE, the long and short of it is that item degradation is a form of player driven attrition that gently curbs their overall power level. If they go too hard, use their best items recklessly, get involved in needless fights, then they’re going to be in worse shape by the time they reach the final challenge. This was supposed be the idea behind HP/limited class abilities per day, but attrition systems cover that better IMO.

Stress: The psychological counterpoint to exhaustion, I’ve already talked about Stress HERE. I tend to only use stress in horror themed adventures and campaigns, as it builds upon 5e’s optional “madness” system which fits the theme when gothic terrors and eldritch abominations but less so with the game’s usual heroic fare.

Hunger & Supply: I made a super lightweight system based off this idea of “depletion die” for potions and other consumables, check it out, it’s lightweight and fantastic. Using this kind of system gives us another avenue to challenge our party, lengthening or shortening their lifeline as they lose supplies and seek out new caches.

Thinking environmentally: Part of the fantasy of being an adventurer is travelling to dangerous places and living to tell the tale. We’re denying our party that fantasy if we don’t follow through on the threat the idea of these places imply. You should risk sickness if you go into a swamp, sewer, or jungle, thirst should be a factor in desert exploration, just like freezing is for mountain and winter expeditions. That’s to say nothing of magical hazards; cursed landscapes that drain your will to live dead marshes style, alchemical smog in a steampunk industrial zone, fading into nothingness as you approach the edge of existence.

Figure out the natural hazards, make your party aware of the danger, and then build your adventure around the fact that they’ll need to save against the hazard each time they take a long rest.. Do they take a detour if it means having a safe place to camp? Is there a resource they need to manage along the way? Could encounters expose them to further dangers or make their current exposure worse? Keeping these ideas in mind especially when you’re planning a wilderness exploration adventure should give you lots of ideas to fill up those encounter tables.

Adding insult to injury: Giving enemies the ability to inflict attrition in various forms makes otherwise trivial enemies a credible threat even to a seasoned adventuring party. As an example, A party might breeze through a fight with some monstrous spiders ( or even ONE regular sized spider, if you can imagine) , but that spider encounter doesn’t need to be the most dangerous thing ever if their next encounter is a navigation challenge fording a river and a few of the heroes are still groggy thanks to the slow acting poison in their systems.

In this way you can use attrition based battles to soften your party up for greater challenges, long after their HP totals and healing ability have outpaced the damage a single trap/encounter can do.

Artist

#homebrew mechanic #d&d mechanics #attrition #combat

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123puppy · 1 month

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I'd like to thank this precious video for giving me the mental image of Alastor's suffering~

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Cute.

It's a word Lucifer cannot seem to stop thinking about when it comes to The Radio Demon. For this, it's beyond his expectations. And a beautiful discovery he never thought possible.

Alastor lays flat on his back, arms barely staying near his head as he struggles to contain, and fail, the giggles that spill from between his teeth, face twisted into the sheets in a futile attempt to hide, flustered.

He forgoes his red-striped coat, sleeves rolled up along with the bottom hem of his light red shirt exposing his stomach and small waist, white strips almost zig-zagging his ashen skin.

A choked sound comes out of the man, unable to keep one of his arms in place, bringing said arm down to cover his mouth, grin growing bigger with a wobbly edge as his eyes pop open.

Long black claws dance gently over Alastor's lower tummy. It's been like this for over a minute, but Alastor is falling apart at the seams at the display, his other arm dragging itself down, red claws easily slicing through the crimson sheets in a slow 'rrrrRRRiiiip' and finding itself over his other hand to stop the giggles as they reach a slightly higher pitch, accompanied by a ringing pitched with distressed deer noises.

Lucifer has a smile on his own face as he continues to tease the deer with no hope of stopping unless the sinner voices it. He's praying Alastor doesn't end it too soon, because for all that is holy, this has got to be the cutest and wholesome moment he's seen since Charlie's birth.

Another minute goes by. It could have been eons for all Al knows.

The sinner cannot keep still the longer this goes on. One long leg pulls itself up and scrapes along the sheets as he fights to keep from squirming about. But Lucifer, the little shit, has been discreetly pushing his shirt up little by little, then he would drag his nails down back to where they started. The sporadic reaction is a feat, the younger man fighting his instinct to curl forward even when the Angel pressed his finger pads near his hips. The tears welling within the corners of his eyes don't give him hope of enduring this much longer.

Alastor had been holding out for as long as he could, to the point that his death mark began to glow, until he broke when one of his lowest ribs gets grazed.

He slams his elbows down and twists his body onto its side, ears flat against his skull, "That's enough!" His voice cracks. His actual voice, no filters.

Lucifer pulls away without complaint, but does pout, "Aww, I wanted to hear more of your adorable laughter."

"Fuck off."

Lucifer raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing, "Not my fault you're sensitive. I didn't go full Tickle Monster on you like I do with Charlie." He wiggles his fingers over Alastor and the demon flinched, slapping his hands away.

Blood-red eyes turn into dials, locked on the smaller man, grin exposing all his teeth.

"I haven't forgotten how sensitive you are, Your Highness."

"Now let's not get ahead of ourselves-" Lucifer shrieks as Alastor pounces.

#hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin hotel tickles #lee!alastor #ler!lucifer #ticklish!alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #my writing

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dirtytransmasc · 3 months

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atwow hot take:

if jake had said his "son for a son" shit out loud and spider had heard him, he would have been so beyond pissed, he would be seeing red.

spider loved his little siblings so much, neteyam included, even after they grew apart. he loved them like they were his own blood and protected them like they were too (we see a lot more of them together in the comics, where spider is the big brother without a doubt). neteyam's death most certainly rocked him hard, even if he hasn't really been able to show it (how could he? he's already going through all the shit with his dad and the RDA and their nonsense, he can't grieve around neytiri, he's just so tired after it all. he doesn't have the room or the energy to grieve yet)

so if jake had the audacity to say that to/around spider not even a few hours after he watched his little brother get shot after coming to save him, after he stared at the bullet hole in his back, after he watched him take his last breaths, after he watched the light leave his eyes, after he watched his little brother die for him; if he said that while his little brother's body lay in a pool of his own blood not even ten feet away, not even cold yet, blood still clinging to his chest, the scent of it still filling the air: he would have lost his shit.

because the disrespect for his brother is wild.

jake was an active player in spider's neglect and abuse for the last 16 years, he let it happen, he helped it happen. he tried to send spider with the humans, tried to take him away from his siblings, from the forests, from eywa to live with his foster family that didn't love him (not to mention Nash was an asswipe of epic proportions) and the RDA of all people. he had referred to spider as a stray animal since he was little. he was the reason spiders life was hell.

and after all that, years and years of putting him in shit positions and allowing him to suffer the fate of being forever unloved and uncared for (by an adult authority figure, cause I love the kids, but they don't make up for the gap left by a parent), this is what it took for jake to care about him? his little brother had to die in front of him first? he had to be traded out to fill the space of a corpse, to fill in the gap left by his little brother's death?

in canon, spider was in deep in shock with nothing to break him from it, he wasn't in the place to really think about any of it, and I'm sure we're gonna see this anger in the coming movies, but if jake had said it out loud, that would have been enough to snap spider right out of it, and he would have given jake a piece of his mind, I just know it.

#he loves neteyam too much to let jake do that. to say that. he'd never allow it.#spider is such a good big brother. he loves his siblings too much.#if jake had said that to his face there would have been hell to pay. regardless of how out of it spider was with shock/grief/pure exhaustio #spider doesn't even care about the disrespect being done to him by that statement. he just cares about neteyam.#cause how could a father say that? how could he just move on. fill the gap with a “stray” as he puts it. take him in after all he'd done to #him? it wasn't fair #it wasn't fair to him and it most certainly wasn't fair to neteyam #I love spider. he deserves a family that loves him and wants him. he wants it. but this is not what either of us asked for.#that line has always rubbed me wrong. and it would have rubbed spi wrong too. I just know it.#I really hope we see spider express his rightful anger/disgust to this whole thing next movie #though I worry he will be too busy feeling guilty over everything and feeling like he just has to be grateful. but one can hope.#he deserves to be angry #and his dynamic with neteyam deserves to be explored. cause its a crime that it was ignored in the movie.#avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #spider socorro #miles spider socorro #miles socorro #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #jake sully #I wanna punch that man so hard istg. I can't with him. I won't say I hate him. but lord have mercy I can't with him.#my baby boys deserved better #spider was neteyam's big brother. that's my agenda #we need to talk about them more

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onskepa · 10 months

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Can I get a Mother Mo'at x female human reader.

Where Mo'at found the reader when she was a baby. Then Mo'at I dunno does some sort of ritual for the reader to be able to breath on Pandora without using a mask.

I think it would be kinda wholesome to see Mo'at treating the reader as if she were her own child 🥺

Neytiri probably being the overprotective big sister over the reader, especially since she is human.

Imagine Jake's reaction to seeing the reader on Pandora and breathing without a mask or an avatar as if it's normal-

I just imagine Neytiri dragging the reader with her while she has to teach Jake and the reader laughs at Jake when he does something wrong.

I MOTHERFUCKING LOVE YOU!! YES!! HERE IT IS!! YOU'RE THE BEST!!

Stxeli series

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A daughter for a daughter

Mo'at wasn't herself after the death of her first born daughter. Sylwanin. Her daughter was truly a wonderful na'vi, one with so much potential. Yet the sky people took that away from her.

After her death, mo'at forbade all na'vi from getting anywhere near hell's gate or any sky demon for that matter. For months she wouldn't let neytiri do anything outside of the territory, in fear she lose her only other child too.

Eytukan tried his best to coax and ease his mate's inner wounds. Yet he himself suffers from the lose of his child. He may be leader, but he too, is a father. To see his sweet child be born and grow, hopes and wonder's of what Sylwanin was to become. Yet they took her from that.

Mo'at needed to clear her head one day. And left to go beyond the clan's territory to search for herbs and other materials for medicine. It was to clear her head, but nothing was working. She prays to Eywa every day and night, she doesn't question her great mother's reasons, but desire this inner wound to ease.

Suddenly, a woodsprites appeared, not just one, nor two, not even three!! but many slowly make their way towards mo'at. She gasps and carefully looks and listen. Trying to understand the message Eywa is bestowing on her. The seeds began to make a line, a trail, they wanted her to follow, so she did.

As she moves, she began to notice the seeds were leading her to hell's gate. Daring not to question, she slowly moves forward, making sure the sky demons dont notice her. Luckly, night approaches so the ecosystem disguised her well. Still following the woodsprites, they led her to a window of a tall building. She peaked inside and saw a baby who was crying its little heart out. She was amazed by how tiny the baby was. Must be only a few days old.

She looked around in the room, and didnt see any other sky demon attending to the baby. She may not not much of sky demons customs but she is sure they dont leave their little ones unattended.

The baby cried for long minutes, it tugged mo'at's heart. How is it that no demon has come to attend the baby? Where is the mother? Mo'at desperately wanted to help the baby. Its cried wailed deep into her soul. She now understands what Eywa is telling her. If no one will take care of the baby. Then she will.

With a half baked plan, she looked around to search of the only human she can ever trust, Dr. Grace Augustine. Much to Grace's surprise and delight, she approached mo'at, and much to her great surprise, mo'at wished to enter hell's gate. Grace didnt know any better, only that she missed speaking to the Tsahik.

Using Grace's trust, mo'at made sure to mesmerize every single route of hell's gate and pin point every possible exist. When suddenly her ears picked up the familiar cries of the baby. Grace didnt look, so Mo'at quickly left to find the baby. Basically busting through the door, she entered the tiny room where the baby layed. Carefully picking it up, she sees under the blanket. It was a baby girl. The cutest baby girl she ever seen. Her little cries died down, and snuggled against mo'at. Her mother instincts kicked in, the sudden feeling to protect the baby. She softly kissed her tiny head and made sure to wrap the baby securely against her chest. Quietly, and by miracle of Eywa, she managed to leave hell's gate undiscovered and heads back to her clan.

By following morning, every na'vi knew of Mo'at bringing home a human child. Many dare not to voice their concerns, as they would be silenced by Eytukan. But even he is confused. For last night, while looking for her, he saw her run as fast as she could, not to their shared hammock, but to the tree of souls. He went after her to see if she was alright but to his shocked, he saw her place the a human baby down by the base of the roots. There, mo'at saw him, and asked to join her in prayer. A prayer to save the child. As she didnt think her plan through. Their native air was toxic for fully grown humans, she didnt think how it would affect the baby.

So that is what they did. Praying to Eywa in hopes to bless the baby girl to breathe their air. By sunrise, the baby was giggled and looked at the na'vi in wonder.

Mo'at and Eytukan explained to the clan that the child is a gift from Eywa. For she was born to be with them. Human body but na'vi at heart.

Neytiri was a bit perplexed by the news. But had come to her own conclusion, the humans took away a na'vi daughter, so its only fair that the na'vi takes away a human daughter.

They given her the blessed name Stxeli. And she fitted right in with the others, neytiri loved her new sister. Became rather protective of her. And much to her surprise, Tsu'tey had come to accept the new born. Would be there for the little one whenever he can, and would often play with her. Mo'at felt her inner soul be at peace, and healed from the dark past.

At every given chance, mo'at, neytiri and Eytukan would tell their young one of their older sister, Sylwanin, so that her memories be never forgotten.

True that Stxeli cant do everything a na'vi can, but she makes up for it in her skills at weaving and music. She did not need to hunt, or tame a banshee, she is fine how she is. Never felt like an outsider.

However, when Jake Sully arrived to the clan, he was shocked to see a human amongst the na'vi, a human who can breathe their air. Stxeli didnt trust jake not one bit. And would keep her distance from him. But when it came to neytiri training him, she and tsu'tey would watch him fail and laugh together.

But much like neytiri, jake warmed up to her, and would give him tips on how to better his skills. Demonstrate her own skills flawlessly.

Jake would report of to Grace of the Omaticaya human, and how its strange she is accepted. Grace knew who he was talking about. Despite all these years, she still turned a blind eye of what happened that night. And would go on like nothing happened. So long as she get still interact with the tribe, the incident would forever be with her under her very last breathe.

Stxeli = gift

Thank you so much for this request! I loved writing it!

#avatar #na'vi x reader #na'vi avatar #avatar the way of water #na'vi x human #jake sully #mo'at #neytiri #jake x neytiri #eytukan #omatikaya #omaticaya clan #mo'at x reader #eytukan x reader #neytiri x reader #jake x reader #grace augustine #rda

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