#(note: VERY FEW people engaging in GOOD FAITH)

[danielnelsen]

while i get where this comes from and it’s true to an extent, i reeeaaaally don’t like how people try to explain “trans men don’t [necessarily] have male privilege” with things like “some trans men don’t pass”.

like sure that’s the most obvious example (someone who is seen as a woman won’t have the privilege that comes with being seen a man) but you’re still acting like being a passing trans man is just a free opt-in to male privilege which is………kinda the issue.

#personal #ohh don’t be weird on my post please this is just on my mind #i’ve seen it so many times just in the last few days #like yeah a passing trans man receives more benefits than anyone who’s seen as a woman #and i’m sure most people making those arguments DO understand that it’s not that simple #but very few people engaging in these kinds of discussions in good faith would argue that someone seen as a woman has male privilege #(note: VERY FEW people engaging in GOOD FAITH) #i see people be like ‘everyone thinks all trans men pass’ and like…….WHO is thinking that who’s also gonna listen to you here #maybe it’s just my grew-up-in-a-conservative-religious-environment thing but your experience is not universal #i would also like you to consider whether ‘anyone that looks like a man has male privilege’ is consistent with your other views #1k #(oh god guys please)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for creating and running a gimmick blog?

A few months back, I was bored and decided to hop on the trend of gimmick blogs. Since I don't have any crazy skills like identifying cars or programming bots, I settled on something I thought was extremely simple: correcting typos. So I'll sometimes reblog posts that have typos in them and comment with corrections. I would only do this on posts that were already lighthearted or joking in tone; I would never derail a serious post with it. And I really haven't used it very often - maybe a couple times a week at most, just when I happen to notice a good candidate.

Well, recently I was inundated out of nowhere by a bunch of anons telling me this was a horribly offensive idea. According to them, I was insulting dyslexic people, non-native English speakers, people without access to education, and a whole bunch of other groups with these unwarranted corrections.

I had honestly never considered that angle, and I've paused using that blog so I can try and reflect on it. But when I replied to a couple of the asks asking for a better explanation of exactly how this was harmful - because I genuinely wanted to be informed - the vast majority of the replies, with few exceptions, were obscenely rude to me. I've been called classist, ableist, racist, and a lot of much worse words I don't care to repeat here. I blocked exactly two people because they were being extremely hateful in my notes, while still trying to engage with the more polite ones, but of course I still got accused of blocking and ignoring everyone I disagreed with.

The truth is, I'm still not sure whether or not I disagree with any of them on the actual subject at hand; I just can't deal with people being bitter and rude and assuming the worst of me. I tried to make it clear that I was more than willing to listen and have a conversation in good faith, but that has proved impossible.

So now I'm really hurt and really, really confused. I'm not going to just blindly trust a small group of hypocrites on the internet who claim they're worried about people's feelings while at the same time trying to completely villainize me as if I don't have feelings too. But I also understand that they might have a point. Sadly, politeness is not always correlated with correctness.

I absolutely do not want to continue running this gimmick blog if it's truly harmful and offensive to people. I've just never encountered this take before, and it was delivered with such vitriol that I had to take a break from tumblr entirely just to recover my sanity. So I'm hoping a much broader and less biased sample size will help to clear this up. I know an AITA poll isn't perfect, but it should do.

If I get a YTA verdict, I will delete the typo-correcting blog and stop immediately, no questions asked. If not, I'll know I just angered an extremely vocal minority that has no idea how to deal with conflict.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Hi! Can I pls request dating headcanons for Bale Batman with a female reader who used to works as his assistant but now helps Alfred with batman related work? Like reader is not a superhero but helps Alfred with his duty? Also reader is a very sunshiny person, kind and loving? Thank you ❤️

Thank you so much for requesting, anon! <3

A/N: This is a warning, I got carried away. I blinked and suddenly two hours were gone and I had this. Also, let's pretend Bruce took over Wayne Enterprises before he came Batman.

Enjoy!

~ Fi🪻

Dating Bruce as his assistant ♤

◇ You'd been working for Wayne Enterprises even before Bruce took over, under the supervision of William Earle.

◇ Your parents always told you what good people the Wayne's were, helping the ones less fortunate. Naturally, you wanted to work for their company, hoping to help keep their legacy.

◇ Once you started working there, however, it was different than you'd expected. This Mr. Earle didn't seem to respect the Wayne's wishes of helping the poor people of Gotham.

◇ It did pay well and you really needed this job, so you reluctantly kept your mouth shut, doing as your told.

◇ Which was refilling coffee cups and occasionally taking notes during meetings.

◇ Once Bruce took over, your faith had been restored. He was his father's son, and actually seemed like he wanted to help.

◇ Now, you were way more involved in the inner workings of Wayne Enterprises, working closely with Lucius and Bruce.

◇ You still handled most of the paper work, but you were allowed to voice your ideas and suggestions, which was heavily encouraged by Bruce.

◇ You were on coffee duty, but because you actually wanted to. You enjoyed bringing Bruce his coffee and being rewarded with a gently thanks and a smile that made your heart flutter.

◇ Bruce had moved your desk directly into his office, saying it was more convenient that way, for the both of you.

◇ Which was true on one hand, but he secretly liked having you around him. Your presence put him at ease, watching you calmly look through a bunch of documents for him to sign.

◇ Your bubbly and bright personality contrasted him so well, you were always humming a tune or doodling on some expired documents.

◇ He loved when you hummed, it made him able to concentrate better on what he was doing.

◇ You two just clicked. In more ways than one. The company was thriving thanks to your teamed efforts, and he was... happier.

◇ Little did he know, he made your heart sore. Being around him so often made you happy too, always engaging in pleasant conversations between the workloads.

◇ Eventually, he asked you out, making your brain short circuit. It left you unable to focus on anything for the rest of the day, as a stupidly wide smile sat on your face.

◇ You hit it off from there.

◇ The first few months you could not stop talking. About anything, really.

◇ You told him about everything, always bubbling over with excitment and joy.

◇ The fact that you could always find something positive in life made him smile and potentially have made him a little more optimistic as well.

◇ You did have your doubts about whether or not this could work since he was your boss and you were working together all the time.

◇ It did work.

◇ Maybe a little too well, you ended up moving to Wayne Manor.

◇ And Alfred became your best friend immediately.

◇ You helped him around the Manor, it was a huge house after all, although he insisted you didn't have to.

◇ You wanted to, you enjoyed it.

◇ Alfred sharing funny and cute embarrassing childhood stories about Bruce while you were doing mundane household tasks was your favorite part.

◇ He talked about Bruce's parents as well, you wished you could've met them.

◇ Then, things changed.

◇ Bruce would come home bruised and limping, which he would always dismiss as some sort of bar fight.

◇ You weren't stupid. Bruce didn't get into meaningless bar fights. You worried, but refrained from questioning him about it since he had to have a reason not to tell you, right?

◇ You worried your ass off the more he came home bloody and beat up.

◇ You couldn't take it anymore, it broke your heart to see your lover come home hurt.

◇ You confronted him, he tried to play it off somehow but eventually he caved and told you everything.

◇ He was the Batman.

◇ You had to sit down after he told you.

◇ And that is how you got here.

◇ You still worked at Wayne Enterprises but much less frequently.

◇ Lucius had taken the main reigns now, as Bruce was occupied otherwise.

◇ Your main purpose was now in the Batcave together with Alfred, helping with whatever basically.

◇ Gathering Intel, talking to Lucius about more Bat gadgets, and most importantly, patching him up after a rough night.

◇ You were so gentle with him, Bruce could've sworn your touch and kisses immediately healed any ailment he had.

◇ He looked at you with the most loving eyes as you stitched up the giant gash on his arm. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and you mumbled out a quick apology everytime he winced.

◇ Bruce will spoil the shit out of you.

◇ You've done so much for him, and he just needs to give you something back.

◇ Doesn't matter if he buys you whatever you want or hold and praise you at night.

◇ Will not keeps his hands off you.

◇ Like ever.

◇ The second he gets back from patrol he's wrapping you in his arms, kissing your forehead.

◇ Doesn't matter how hurt he is, if he's dripping in blood or barely able to keep himself on his feet.

◇ You are and forever will be his priority.

◇ You, of course, scolded him everytime he did this, telling him he could shower you in his love and affection when he wasn't bleeding out.

◇ He doesn't listen to you, stubborn as he is, and continues to do whatever he wants.

◇ Which is loving you, no matter what state he is in.

◇ You two have gotten into several arguments about his behavior, but you always talked it out in the end.

◇ You held eachother at night, whispering praises and compliments until you eventually drifted off to sleep, both with a content smile on your face.

◇ He absolutely loves waking up with you. You always tell him about the dreams you had, talking and laughing about a time traveling cow with a briefcase.

◇ Your laugh is his favorite sound.

◇ If he could listen to it 24/7, he would.

◇ Now that you were also helping Batman when you're not in the office, you were obviously on the black list.

◇ Something was bound to happen at one point.

◇ After staying late and finishing some blueprints with Lucius, some wannabe villain got his hands on you.

◇ When Alfred told Bruce, he lost his absolute shit.

◇ All rational thoughts were thrown out the window, the only thing that mattered was you. And getting you back.

◇ He almost went in as Bruce, absolutely enraged, but Alfred managed to talk some sense into him.

◇ You were tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse, mouth taped shut.

◇ How original.

◇ Once Bruce had found you and seen how tightly your hands were bound, the rope digging into your skin, and that absolute fool of a leader roughly grabbing your face, waving around a gun in front of you, he went ballistic.

◇ He was so ready to burn this place to the fucking ground.

◇ That was the only time he almost actually killed someone. He beat that fucker into the next decade.

◇ He only stopped when he heard your muffled cries, snapping out of whatever enraged trance he was in.

◇ Bruce whisked you away so fast, you were back in the Batcave in the blink of an eye.

◇ Immediately checked you for any injuries.

◇ Your face was slightly bruised, your lip split and rope burn was sitting on your wrists.

◇ He had to take a moment, his fists clenching.

◇ You assured him again and again that it wasn't his fault and that the minor injuries you had sustained were nothing.

◇ He never really forgave himself for this, he never told you, though.

◇ Took the next two weeks off Batman duty to be with you.

◇ Held you for those two weeks straight and took care of your wounds.

◇ He promised you, more himself really, that something like that would never ever happen again and that he would protect you with his life.

◇ Will kiss you all the time, especially after the incident.

◇ He will become so clingy, but you love it.

◇ You moved on with life after what happened, and seemingly so did he.

◇ But there was something you didn't know.

◇ He went back, tracked that bastard down and finished the job.

◇ That was the only time the Batman has ever killed someone.

◇ It was more Bruce Wayne than Batman when he did it.

◇ He would do it a hundred times over if it meant protecting you.

Some bonus NSFW hcs

♤ Is smitten with you the second he meets you.

♤ has fantasized about bending you over his desk and fucking you.

♤ After you started dating and made things official, he fulfilled that fantasy.

♤ basically lives between your thighs.

♤ would stay there all day if you'd let him.

♤ You don't. (because you would be sobbing by the end of it)

♤ he's so pouty about it, very upset at you.

♤ so loving in bed, he has made you cry simply from telling you how much he loves you while he fucks you into oblivion.

♤ You sucked him off from under his desk once and he fucking loved it.

♤ I'm gonna say it again

♤ PUSSY EATING KING

♤ just loves eating you out so much it's ridiculous.

♤ You've woken up on more than one occasion with his face buried in your cunt at 8 in the morning.

♤ after you got kidnapped, he fucks you so hard and rough.

♤ he needs those emotions to go somewhere and you happened to be sitting there so pretty, he couldn't help himself.

♤ he feels really bad about it after, you deserve nothing more than to be made love to.

♤ You tell him you actually liked it and wouldn't mind if he did it again sometime.

♤ fucks your brains out the second that statement left your mouth.

♤ the best at aftercare, will love on you to your hearts content. Always draws you a bath and kisses your neck and shoulders, he's so sweet.

♤ He loves you like he has never loved anyone before, and he would give you the world if he could <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you liked it, anon!

#bumblebeesfromvenus #bale!bruce x reader #bale!bruce wayne smut #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #christian bale #batman begins #alfred pennyworth

[tojixz]

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Sully x Fem!Reader

Notes: Part two done! I really didn't think part one of this simple fanfic would engage so much, I was so happy! I'm very happy that several people liked it and I hope to continue with more stories here. Also, I am new to Tumblr, so I am learning my way around the platform, so please be patient; but if you want to send me any requests or writing ideas about Avatar, feel free! I will try to elaborate and do a good write-up for you. In advance, THANK YOU VERY MUCH 💕💕

Summary: Another lovely day with the Sully family! Jake desperately chasing after the little rascals that are his children plus his pregnant wife to deal with.

Warnings: A little bit of anguish, but it is rewarded afterwards!

Word Count: 2,4k

Sa'nok (n) - Mom Tìyawn (n) - Love

Oel ngati kameie (n) - I see you

Part one | Part three

You awoke early that morning, feeling ready to make a productive day of it. Stretching, you got up from the hammock and looked around, missing the presence of your companion, who by the looks of it began his work as head of the Omatikaya Clan early in the morning. You are somewhat saddened to wake up away from Jake's body heat, missing his big arms around you and his loving kisses all over your face. But you have gotten used to it, after all it was a necessary evil.

Standing up, you observed your children still sleeping in a deep slumber. The clan started their activities early in the day, when the sun was just beginning to rise, but you thought it unnecessary to wake your children that early, then you go do what needs to be done while they stay in the tent resting. That is until Jake came to them and got them out of bed to start their day's activities.

While still looking at the sleeping children, her eyes fixed on Lo'ak for a moment. He was having little spasms in his sleep, probably because of some dream he had been having. You let out a small laugh at this; Lo'ak was usually agitated even in his sleep. His brothers complained about how he disturbed them with his nocturnal mumblings or kicks that they were liable to get because they were close.

After standing still for long enough, you finally got ready and left the tent.

A few months had passed, so your belly was very swollen at this point. You felt heavy and sluggish, but you smiled widely every time you felt your little baby kick your belly, which wasn't the case today since he was probably also sleeping like his other siblings.

As you walked a bit, you met up with some elders who greeted you respectfully. You asked if there was anything you could help with and, as expected, you were assigned something simple. Picking fruit and herbs for the clan's food preparation.

You didn't really mind doing simple tasks, you just didn't like being treated like a fragile piece of glass just because of your pregnant state. It wasn't uncommon for pregnant Na'vi women to help hunt with the others (only in simpler hunts in this case), so it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for you to help.

You loved hunting, it made you feel useful to your clan and to your family, not to mention that others appreciated your help. You were a very good hunter, if not one of the best. You were agile and very good with the bow, being one of the main people in the clan to have exceptional aim, so being away from these activities misses you.

The main person to somehow force you not to hunt is none other than, himself, your faithful companion, Jake Sully.

He was already extremely protective of you in the early stages of pregnancy, but now that your belly was huge and you tired more easily, he protected you from even the most harmless creatures of Pandora.

Honestly, you were angry with him for it. Sometimes his constant protection was suffocating and made you feel like a child. But more childish is Jake and his stubbornness. No matter how much you argued, you would always be at square one of 'No hunting at all'.

Sighing, you settled for going after the items necessary for food preparation. At least that gave you a calming stroll with only your own presence among the flora of Pandora.

Jake had been searching for a family member for some time.

He went into his shared tent to, as usual, wake up his children to start the day. In the process he expected to find you and sprinkle you with kisses since he was unable to do that when he left the tent earlier.

However, the only thing he came across was the deadly silence of the environment and the stillness of the surroundings.

This was not normal. It definitely was not.

Their children didn't disappear like that. Even if they woke up before he arrived to wake them up, they usually stayed at home helping you with something or just enjoying themselves before Jake dragged them out.

But that wasn't the case today. There was no one in the tent, not even you.

This made your stomach turn and a bitter feeling settle in your throat. Nothing bad had happened, right?

The kids could have just gone out to play without waiting for him to arrive and you must have gone to do something. Yes, that's definitely it.

But even if it is, Jake was unable to stop the worry bubbling up inside him and the present despair he plunged into. Jake turned on his heels and hurried out of the tent in search of his children or you, whichever it was.

As he walked through the clan, Jake stopped the first person who appeared in front of him and began frantically asking questions in search of answers.

"Änsit! Oh my God, help me", Jake made the woman who was walking calmly with a basket in her arms stop abruptly at the mention of her name and turn with a look of astonishment to face the man who called out to her.

"Olo'eyktan, Oel ngati kameie. What's wrong?", the woman inquired, analyzing her leader's expressions and seeing how desperate and helpless the man is. What could be so bad that could have happened to make her great leader so frightened like this?

Jake swallowed the saliva that had built up in his mouth as he tried to stabilize his breathing, and then quickly said: "My children, have you seen them? Or their mother?"

He was able to see how the woman's body tensed for a few seconds and a worried expression took over from the previous one. This did not help ease his worries, in fact, it only made them worse.

"No, no, I didn't see them, any of them. Did something happen?"

Jake's heart froze, it wasn't possible for his noisy sons not to have made a presence in the clan yet, someone should have seen it. But he didn't have time to go out interrogating every soul he could find in front of him, his only option was to act and look for them on his own.

"Okay, thanks. If you see them, have someone let me know. For now I need to go", Jake didn't even give Änsit a chance to reason through the situation before he rushed back to search for you and your children.

He had been walking for a while and the situation was only getting worse. He could not calm his troubled heart and his eyes were beginning to fill with tears for fear that something might have happened.

In his search time he had heard that you had gone out early to help the elderly women with their search for fruits, herbs and derivatives, but so far there has been no return from you.

Jake was in the middle of the forest currently as the sun was high in the sky. He was breaking into a cold sweat as he continued to shout his name and that of his children. How could this have happened? How could he let you disappear like this?

Guilt was consuming him as worry settled in his lungs making it difficult to breathe. His throat was beginning to rasp from the many times he had called out their names. He refused to give up and knew that one hour you would answer him.

"Lo'ak! Neteyam!!" Jake continued walking and started to walk in between some trees in the process, still continuing with his call. "Kiri?! Oh Great Mother… Children, I ask you to answer me-", he was silenced by distant voices in front of him. He became still, so deadly still that it was possible to hear his heartbeat against his ribcage, just focusing on listening to the various voices behind the trees.

"Lo'ak, I will not repeat, watch out for the rocks!"

"Right Sa'nok. I am skilled, I will not get hurt."

"Sure you are", a sarcastic voice was heard soon after, pouring debauchery into every word, "Who was the fool who slipped last time and grated his entire knee?"

"Shut up Kiri!"

"Watch the lingo, Lo'ak!"

A commotion followed soon after, sounds of splashing water and screaming children filled the place. Jake would recognize those voices even on his deathbed, they were the voices that annoyed him some days, but lit up all his mornings.

He let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. A shaky sigh left his lips; his legs slackened for a few seconds as relief flooded his entire being.

Jake didn't know that those voices were the sweetest thing he had ever heard in his entire life. He never wanted to listen to the silence again.

Making his way through the greenery, Jake could finally see the scene in front of him. Small children were playing in the small pond that had settled there, while a more delicate figure with a large round part in place of a stomach was sitting on the ground peeling some fruit in its basket.

It was the most beautiful sight he had ever witnessed. Although Jake was angry that you had disappeared without trace or warning, the anger was soon replaced by passion and affection for his family. Jake loved them so much, so much that his heart ached. And to think that soon they would have an extra member there, running and jumping along with their other children. Jake could not contain the smile that insisted on appearing on his lips.

Walking toward you, Jake sat down beside you while resting his head on your shoulder, making you jump from where you were standing from the fright you got.

"Ah my Eywa. What a fright Jake Sully! What did I say about sneaky approaches?" You shot him a scolding look as you calmed your heartbeat.

"I'm sorry. But I guess I'm the only one who should be angry here, because why did you disappear without even telling me? The children… do you know how desperate I was to chase after you?", his voice was firm, wanting to scold you, but you could feel the desperation in his speech.

Your lips curved upward slightly as you put your knife and fruit away in the basket beside you, only to take Jake's hands and entwine them together. "I'm sorry, love, I did not mean that. I took the opportunity of you not being around to serve as some help to the clan since you make me unable to do so in your presence", you said with a playful tone that drew a snort coming from Jake, which you just ignored and continued, "I was really going to do what I was assigned and return to join the elders, however, as I was gathering the necessary ingredients, I felt small bodies cling to my leg demanding that I play with them. Your children woke up energized today."

You and Jake shifted their focus to the children diving into the pond ahead, realizing that they probably hadn't even noticed their father's presence yet.

Jake moved even closer to you and deposited a light kiss on your lips, so soft that you were almost unable to register it. Then he lowered his face and deposited an even more loving kiss on your round belly, then you were able to hear him murmur, "I was very afraid that something might have happened to you."

Your heart squeezed at those words and you felt guilty. It wasn't fair to Jake to suddenly disappear without warning, you were a little upset this morning, but it still wasn't a reason. You can imagine the constant desperation he had been in before he found you.

The only option you found yourself able to do to soothe your companion's distressed heart was to get up and sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around Jake's neck and resting your forehead against his. "Forgive me, tìyawn", you deposited a longer kiss on Jake's mouth, pulling away minimally to whisper something that only the two of you were able to hear, "What can I do to end your fears?"

Before Jake was able to answer, you were able to hear voices of disgust behind you.

"Ew… Daddy, how long have you been here doing disgusting things?", Kiri asked as she hid her face behind her older brother so she wouldn't be able to see anything else.

"You disappear without a trace and when you see me you're already saying these things to me?", Jake took you from his lap as gently as possible, placing a quick kiss on your cheek. He got up and slowly started walking towards his children with his arms outstretched. "Am I supposed to shower you with kisses as punishment for all the hell you put me through today?"

Your children let out startled cries as they ran to protect themselves from their father's strong arms, Lo'ak colliding head-on with Neteyam in the process, causing Kiri to squirm with laughter and end up falling into the arms of Jake who was showering her with kisses all over her little face.

You started to laugh out loud at your family's pranks. You cherished moments like that and they made them memories too special to fix in your head. You cracked a smile as more laughter was heard coming from Jake, Neteyam, Lo'ak and Kiri. That is until your smile widened even more (if that was possible) as you felt your baby kicking your belly. Placing your hand on your stomach, you were able to feel the baby's excitement, as if it was sharing all the energy coming from its siblings.

You knew that surely this little being in your belly would be just as energetic as your current little ones. And it made you realize how blessed you truly were.

You would be scolded later for not having taken the promised ingredients to the elders. But that's okay, the light of your family was able to make you overcome any challenge.

The story took a different turn than I expected, but in the end I liked it! I hope I was able to convey well the father jake desperate for his missing family lmao✨️

｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍓｡･ﾟ♡ﾟ･｡🍒

#avatar #jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #loak sully #kiri sully #tuk sully #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar 1 #avatar 2 #avatar twow #atwow #atwow fluff #atwow x reader

[teyamsatan]

The Archer | Chapter VI: The Great War

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Summary: Your secret meeting with your dad brings out the worst in you and your mate. The RDA go after one more tulkun in the beginning of the biggest fight of your lives - for your lives.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 9.7k words

Warnings/notes: lots of angst, mentions of death, blood, violence, cursing, SPOILERS for ATWOW

A/N: I apologise in advance for the next few chapters, but I am feeling feelings and you have to feel them with me!! This chapter took a little longer than expected, but I am trying to not kill myself juggling everything I currently have going on. As always, thank you so so much for engaging with the story, and replying, liking, reblogging, following etc etc. (all the good things). Ily all and can't wait to share the rest w you soon xoxoxo

You drew up some good faith treaties, I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

You said I have to trust more freely, but diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talkin’, screamin' from the crypt

Telling me to punish you for things you never did, so I justified it

You were hyperventilating a little, entering the tent that you now called home and revelling in the silence, which you needed desperately to make sense of what just happened. They did it, they killed a tulkun. You’ve heard from the Metkayina that they were doing that, far away from the village, but now they did it here. You knew instantly it was a ploy to drive Jake out, drive you all out, and you wondered meekly if Jake would answer. Even if he didn’t, you didn’t think the Metkayina would just let this slide. Your dad, your dad left you a message. And you lied about it. Why would you do that? What in tarnation possessed you to do something so stupid? You lied to Jake, to Neytiri… to Neteyam. 

You were mad, mad at Jake that it had to come to this point. You told him, you fucking told him months ago. You should have never run, ever. You told him they would find you eventually, you told him innocent beings would get hurt as a result of hiding. Death would follow you wherever you went because the RDA wouldn’t just give up, and they had very little to lose. People were disposable to them. You, on the other hand, all had everything to lose. 

You were mad at your father, for yet another atrocious act. You were mad that he desecrated any good association you had with his memory once again and made you hate him, hate yourself for having any connection to this cruel, sick, twisted individual. You were mad at your mother, who chose him, who allowed him to be your father, who protected and defended his honour and memory your entire life and in death, and you wondered what spell he put on her that she was so so blind about this man. 

You should just tell them. Tell your family and take them with you and just kill him. Your heart sank as you considered that he might kill them on the spot if he notices anyone else with you. Maybe they could take the ilu? Maybe you and Jake would be enough to take him down. You didn’t like how much your brain was screaming in pain at the thought, at watching your father, that you’ve never even met before, lying dead on the ground, bleeding out in front of you. Why should you care? Why do you care? Why did you lie? It was painful, near damn unbearable having to admit to yourself that you wanted to see him, you wondered what he had to say for himself, this man that has been an almost mythical thing in your life, that gave you self-loathing issues you can’t outrun and haven’t outgrown, this man, this man, this man. 

Maybe it was a trap. Maybe he wanted to draw you out to kidnap you, to use you as leverage to draw Jake out. Maybe he knew from Spider how close you were to the Sullys, knew you were bound to the hip with Lo’ak, knew you were mated with Neteyam, and that you would perhaps bring them along and he can get a Sully kid to threaten and manipulate the former Olo’eyktan. It was a good plan, you thought, except you would go alone, and you were more than capable of killing anyone who tried to get in your way. Your dad would learn that soon enough, as you were determined to finish this, once and for all, and free yourself of this burden and this nightmare that has plagued you far longer than anything else has.

Neteyam came into the tent before anyone else did, looking at you curiously. 

“Are you alright? You seemed quite shaken after seeing the tulkun.”

Calm yourself. You couldn’t lie to Neteyam. It was one thing having kept that you were sick, it was one thing to lie by omission. You couldn’t lie to your mate, but you had to try. 

“Can you blame me?”

He sighed, then approached you, pulling your body into a warm hug. His hand went to the back of your head, softly stroking your hair with the pad of his thumb in a calming motion. The guilt was eating at you, deep and unpleasant at his trusting, loving nature. You sniffled into his chest, soft tears escaping you and landing on him. You were crying because you were scared, because you felt like you were betraying your family, the only family you’ve ever known for a man who could be killing you tomorrow, or using you to kill them. You didn’t know what was wrong with you.

“It’s alright, Atan. We will be alright. Dad will come up with a plan.”

You didn’t say anything, afraid that any words out of your mouth will be a dead giveaway and Neteyam will be able to see right through you, as he usually could. 

The evening was quiet and tense, as your family returned to the tent after helping Ronal and Tonowari. There will be a funeral for Ro’a, and traditional rituals will take most of the morning tomorrow as a final farewell to the tulkun and her calf. Luckily, Tuk slept in between Neyriti and Jake tonight, and with a big lump in your throat and a thumping heart, you went to sleep nestled in Neteyam’s embrace. 

You waited patiently for everyone to be fast asleep around you, room filled with deep, regular breaths. You knew as soon as Neteyam fell asleep, as he twitched when he did, then started snoring softly in your ear. They were all light sleepers, except for Tuk and Lo’ak, trained soldiers, ready at a moment’s notice for trouble, ready for battle. You had to be careful, you had to put all that Na’vi stealth training to good use. 

It took a while, but eventually you made it out, carrying a handgun that you managed to remove silently from the tent, without having alerted anyone, and pushed passed the village into the mangrove forest where Neyn was. When you were sure you were past the point anyone could have heard you, you let out your calling cry, and you watched as your beautiful banshee made her way to you, cooing gently at your sight.

“Did I wake you, sweet girl? I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”

You got on her, making Tsaheylu, and felt concern in her as she took you away in the dead of night, and without your mate to accompany you. She was a little scared, as she was very rarely on her own, Seze always keeping her company on such late nocturnal rides. 

You rode for a while, loving the feeling of the warm air on your face, loving being back on your ikran, that you used to fly with every day in your old life and you sighed soundlessly, knowing an ilu will never compare to this feeling right here, to this beautiful creature you knew was your spirit sister. You thought about Neyn, and how you would feel if you lost her, if she was killed, and you felt her wobble a little mid air as the intense emotions on your mind engulfed you both. You tried to calm yourself for her, so she could keep a steady pace and a straight path. She was here, she was okay, there was nothing to worry about. 

As was made clear in the crude note, about 10 kilometres east of the village was a small island with nothing on it that you could reasonably see except a deserted beach and a couple mangroves. It was small enough to know it was empty and safe, big enough to shield you both from any suspecting eyes. 

A man was waiting for you. An Avatar, he was tall and muscular, dressed in the same camo outfit as that night months ago, the night you almost died at Alien hands, just like so many Na’vi did before you. He was beautiful, you thought. Even in this form, you could recognise the traits you got from him, and you knew then anyone would be able to tell you were related, no matter which body you inhabited. 

“So it’s true.” You heard yourself saying, trying to reconcile the thought that this man was indeed your father, brought back from the dead. 

“What exactly are you? Are you an Avatar? You’re not controlling a body with your mind through a neurolink, so I guess Avatar is a bad name for it. Abomination would be my preferred trademark name, if you’re taking suggestions for T-shirts or action figures.” 

He wasn’t speaking, just looking at you intently, and you swore you saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes. He came closer to you. Your hand picked up the gun you had tucked in your loincloth and pointed it straight at his face. 

Your thumb went to the hammer, that you pulled down. With the gun loaded and your index finger on the trigger, you saw the man flinch briefly, but he recovered immediately and continued to stare at you, at your face and features. 

“You have your mother’s eyes.” 

Your hand slightly trembled on the gun. 

“Stop. Whatever father daughter reunion you had in mind, you’re gonna be disappointed. I’m here to make you answer for your crimes.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you. Fuck, that’s where you got that from. 

“If you were here to make me answer for anything, you would’ve brought Jake Sully with you, or any of the kids you were with that night.” 

“You mean the night you almost killed me?” 

“Also you had no way of knowing this wasn’t a trap, but you came alone anyway. You put yourself in harm’s way to meet me here in secret. Just like I did.”

You don’t really have a comeback for that. So maybe he wasn’t some jarhead dropout after all. Didn’t matter. He’d be dead in a few minutes anyway. 

“I know you must have a million questions, just like I do. Can you please lower the gun so we can talk?” 

“I only have one question for you. How do you sleep at night?” Your eyes welled up, angry tears like needles, prodding, begging to be released. “You killed a Tulkun. Just like you killed so many Na’vi. How do you live with yourself?”

“I didn’t kill the Tulkun -“

“Do you think you’re gonna get away with this on a fucking technicality? Do you think that telling me it was all Quaritch is going to make this fucking better somehow?” 

He looked pained for a moment, gaze shifting from your face to the ground. He looked embarrassed. 

“You’re right, it doesn’t.” 

A silent sob escaped your lips. “Why? That was someone’s spirit sister. She was a beautiful creature, she didn’t deserve to die.” 

“Quaritch wants to bait you out in the open. He hoped that if he did that, you would attack.” 

You hissed loudly. “And what did you do? Watch?”

He recoiled a little at your words, embarrassment still ever present on his face. 

“Pretty much.” 

“That’s just as bad. Inaction is just as bad.”

“Inaction is necessary when you’re using them to find a daughter you have never met. I had to take that risk, I had to say nothing, and I don’t fucking regret it. You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Not for long. I have nothing to say to you.”

“You do. I know you do, because you’re here. Please, just give me a chance. I need a chance.”

He sounded desperate and your welled-up eyes stung now, trying so hard to keep the tears in, trying to be strong, trying to not humour him, to not show him that this was tearing you apart, tearing apart all of the stitches of your patched up pretty new blue heart.

“Please, put the gun down.” Your lips trembled and fingers twitched on the trigger, and with a loud curse, you lowered your arm. 

“You know, I could have killed you that night. I killed two of your little friends, had you in my shot. It would have been an easy kill.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Your eyes moved from him to somewhere behind him, thinking hard, trying to justify it to yourself as much as him. It took a few minutes of introspection to figure out you had nothing.

“I don’t know.”

He moved from where he was and sat down by the beach, in a tiny enclosure that was shielded from areal view by the trees, but still overlooked the beautiful sea, flowing back and forth with soothing waves. He looked up at you expectantly, and you moved to a rock a little further away from him, facing his body, prepared for any possibility. He sighed.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“So, how did this...” You pointed with your gun, that you unloaded for the moment, all over his blue body. “...come to be?”

“When I first came to Pandora, part of the contract stated that if I die, I give permission for them to put my consciousness in an Avatar body so they can revive me in case they need me again. They did the tests and took the chip that contains…well, me… right before the last battle.”

“Why would you agree to that?”

“I didn’t really have a choice. I needed the job, I would have signed anything, done anything they asked.”

“Why?”

He didn’t look at you as he spoke, but to the distant sea, fiddling with his fingers. 

“I had a daughter. Back on Earth. Her name was Sarah. She was everything to me, and she got sick. I worked for the Air Force at the time, but they let me go after I sustained an injury in the war they said deemed me unfit for service. The money I was getting on vet benefits was not enough, not enough to save her,  not enough to matter. Then I found a job offer for the RDA, a mission to a beautiful far away planet. The pay was phenomenal, and I knew I was good enough to be accepted. I had accolades up the wazoo, and was desperate - exactly what they needed. They gave me the first pay check before we took off, and I had to have faith that the money was going to be enough to save my baby girl. When I came out of cryo, six years later, I found out she had died.”

You saw light reflecting a tear dropping on his face, and your heart hurt painfully in your chest. You have wondered for years, your whole life, what could have possibly gotten this man to give up a life on Earth for such a despicable cause, and now that you knew, you didn’t know if it was relieving you of your guilt or not. On one hand it did, because it was as good of an excuse as it got, but on the other hand, it amplified it at the horrid ways you have thought about your dad all these years. You thought him a cold-hearted killer, a monster. Turns out, just like Jake, just like Neteyam, just like you, he was just willing to give up his own life, his peace of mind, for someone he loved. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He smiled a sorrowful smile at you. “It was a long time ago. But anyway, when I found out, I was in pieces. Whatever heart I had left, my little baby took with her. I was jaded and broken, and wanted nothing to do with this world. But these men and women, the soldiers I met, they became my family in time. They pulled me out of a very dark place, and in turn I gave them my undying loyalty and whatever little was left of my soul. I knew then I would protect them with my life, and with the life of the Na’vi, if needs be. It wasn’t right, but it is who I am. Who I’ve been since as long as I remember. A soldier, an army man. I fight for my country, I fight for the job and for the squad, and I don’t complain, and I don’t question it. It was a good way of living, easy to digest, it helped me sleep at night.”

“And then I met your mother.” His smile changed from one filled with sadness and pain to a happy one, a melancholic one, filled with love and wonder. “She was a shock to the system, to every system. She was kind, and loving, smart and curious, soft and patient, but also the most badass, brave, strong person I knew. It was such a complex mixture, I didn’t think anyone like that could exist. But she did. And, somehow, she saw me. She saw more in me than what I thought I was, she saw who I could be, who I think I wanted to be all my life without ever realising. I fell so deeply in love with her, I could feel my heart beating again. She was everything to me.”

The tears were falling freely down your face now, and you didn’t have it in you to stop it, didn’t have any power over your own mind, who had trouble understanding what it was going through, all the information it had to come to terms with in such a short span of time. 

“Spider said she died.” His voice broke as he said that, and you tried to compose yourself from becoming a sobbing mess.

“Yeah… she did. When I was ten. Cancer.” 

“Ovarian?”

Your eyes snapped to him, not being able to stop the shock on your face. 

“Her sister and grandmother died of ovarian cancer, too.”

You didn’t know that. She has never told you that. 

“Are you an Avatar? I didn’t think it was possible for them to make Avatars on Pandora.” 

“I’m not an Avatar, technically. I used to be, but I did the consciousness transfer, just like Jake did almost 20 years ago.”

“Why?”

You sighed loudly. You didn’t know whether you could trust him, whether he would use the information you gave him to betray and hurt you. But at the same time, you have waited for this chance your whole life. You have wanted to speak to the man in front of you, wanted to bond with your dad that you never even met, and so you had to try. 

“Multiple reasons. From an objective point of view, my human body wasn’t made to survive this world. I was stuck in a lab for 18 years, or stuck to an oxygen mask. It wasn’t ideal. From a subjective point of view, I fell in love. With this planet, with the Na’vi… with a boy. My mother and the scientists made me this Avatar so I can live my life the way it was meant to be lived: giving myself fully to it. So when I felt ready, I committed by becoming one of the people for life.”

“There has to be more to that story. I know we don’t have a lot of time, but please, just tell me everything you can.”

So you did. You spared little detail about your mostly miserable existence, hoping that it would make him feel like shit that he didn’t try harder to be part of your mother’s life, that he didn’t forsake his kinship bond with the murderous soldiers and ally himself with the Na’vi when he had the choice, perhaps ensuring his survival, and the presence of another parent in your life.

“Jake found me in the woods, and brought me to Norm and Max, but then my heart stopped for 30 minutes. In those 30 minutes, I saw her. I saw mum, and she told me the truth. That the cancer wasn’t what really killed her. What killed her was your death, that she was never able to get over. She was so depressed, so lost, she chose to die than become one of the people. I realised then I did the exact same thing throughout my whole life, and that I wanted more time, to heal, to love, to live. So Eywa gave me a second chance at life. And I took it. I cured the virus, I became Na’vi, and now I am here. That’s pretty much it.”

Gideon’s head was spinning with the influx of information that was being thrown at him. It was so hard, hearing everything, hearing everything he’s missed. It was hard to deal with knowing this girl sitting in front of him, beautiful and blue, a strong Na’vi warrior, was his, and that whoever she was, he had no part in it. His heart constricted hearing how much pain you have had to endure, how hard your life has been, and know he was directly responsible for at least some of it. His mind echoed with your words about his Jo, about how she died, about whyshe died. The hatred he felt for himself, for his actions and inactions quickly reached an all-time-high, and he almost prayed you’d change your mind and point that gun at him again and finish the job.He couldn’t speak, so he just stared into the abyss, hoping that words, any words would come to him, knowing they won’t, knowing no words would be enough, no words would ever erase or change the damage he had done, the anguish you’ve had to endure.

“This... Neteyam. Is he a good kid?” 

He saw you smile softly, almost bashful at the mention of this boy who was in a lot of your stories, who seemed to shine a light on your otherwise dark life.

“He’s the best. We’ve been through… a lot. And it’s not always been easy, in fact, for like a year and a half he was a lot of the reasons I hated this life, I wanted it to end. But whatever’s ever happened between us, our differences, our fights, it’s never been out of lack of love. On the contrary. I think both of us love each other a little too much for either of our sakes.” 

“Does he treat you well? Do they all… the Sullys, the village, do they treat you well?” 

You smiled again, at him this time, and Gideon swore his whole body stopped - your smile, your eyes, the glimmer in it… Jo. His Jo was still here. His Jo lived so well within you, every ounce of you a walking reminder of the woman he loved more than life itself. Soft, and brave, and strong, and smart and curious… like Jo. 

“They treat me well. They always have. I was the one who pushed them away for years, but their love and desire for me to be in their lives never wavered, and I could not be more grateful. They gave me a family, and a place of belonging. They gave me a squad, and I would do anything for them.” Your expression shifted suddenly, to a hard one, one directed at him. “Anything.” 

“Why are you here? Are you here to sell me out? Are there people spying on us, tracing back where I came from so they can find Jake? Are you here to kidnap me? You either set me up, or you took a big risk leaving that message for me, hoping no one would see it, hoping no one could read it. Which one is it?”

He hated how the first thing you thought of and associated him with is vile and cruel, and underhanded, but he couldn’t blame you. He didn’t have the best track record, otherwise he wouldn’t be standing here right now.

“If I wanted you kidnapped, or found, you would have been kidnapped, or found. Do you think I don’t know you and the Sullys are in Awa’atlu?”

You mouth fell agape, eyes wide and ears pushed back at the new piece of information. He saw your tail stop moving, a sign of alertness and fear, and watched as you cocked the gun and pointed it at his face again.

“Who else knows about this? When did you find out?” 

“No one else knows.”

“Then how would you know? How did you figure it out?” 

“I still have a few aces up my sleeve, kid. Your finger’s not on the trigger, so I don’t think you’re planning on shooting me yet. Can you please lower the gun?” 

“What exactly prompted this little change of heart, if this is even what this is?” 

Gideon pulled out the rock that he found in his makeshift grave and watched as your expression deepened from surprise and fear to shock, amazement. 

“This did. I found a little spot in the forest, where it turns out I died. I found the recording, I saw Weinfleet, that son of a bitch, kill me. Although I guess that’s fair considering I did the same to him. I found my body, that you buried. And this rock.”

Gideon looked at you, at this girl who was undoubtedly his, undoubtedly Jo’s, with awe displayed all across his features. He couldn’t believe you came from him. He wishes he could have seen you as a little girl, as a human, he is so sad he didn’t get to see you take your first steps, or say your first word, or shoot your first gun. He wishes more than anything he could have taught you. He loves you, he realises. He loves you, despite so little time, because you’re his, you’re Jo’s, the best of both of them.

The man saw you thinking intently, tugging at the inside of your lip so hard he was scared it was going to bleed. He didn’t know what to expect from you. It was easy enough to read you as your face mirrored your feelings as if he had a direct link to your thoughts through it, but somehow you were still an enigma to him. He’s never seen Sarah grow up, he’s never had to be a dad to a young woman, a fierce warrior, a scientist who thinks about everything, calculates three moves ahead. He wondered sadly if there is anything left for him to teach you - you seemed as self-sufficient as they come, and a twinge of jealousy for the Toruk Makto blossomed in him, for getting to raise you, for getting to see you grow up, for helping make you who you were right now.

“So what now? I mean it’s a long shot, but maybe I can convince Jake to let you come to Awa’atlu, we can go and ask the Olo’eyktan, we can say you had nothing to do with it, it will be hard, but maybe if I -“ 

“I’m not coming with.”

“What?” There was no more confusion or focus on your face, just anger, pure unadulterated rage. 

“I have to see this through. I have a better chance of protecting you if-“

“Oh, fucking stop. You’re really going to play the martyr act til the end, aren’t you?”

“I can protect you from them, I can find out wh-“

“YOU CAN'T FUCKING PROTECT ME. I DON’T NEED YOUR PROTECTION, I DON’T WANT YOUR PROTECTION.” 

“I need you to prove to me you’re better than I think you are. I need you to show me, that despite all the fucking horrendous things you have done, my mother wasn’t a fool to trust you. To love you.” 

“Don’t talk about your mother like that, girl.” Gideon was panting now, angry with you, with how quickly you were dismissing a perfectly rational plan for your emotions, for the desire to not part with a grudge you’ve held on to for 19 years. He understood it, but there was a line, and Jo was that line for him, always. 

“You go back, everything you have said to me, everything is moot. Because you have a chance to be better, to do better, you have a chance to fight on the right side once in your life, and you’re not going to take it?” 

“I’m not going to repeat myself. I have a better chance of protecting you, protecting the people you love… your family, from there. I can figure out what their plan is and I can warn you.” He pulled out a radio and receiver from one of his pockets. “Take it. It’s set on a different frequency than what they use, or you and the Sullys use. It can be for us. Wear it, I will contact you if anything happens, and you will know and you will be safe.”

You hissed loudly at your dad, tears pricking painfully at your eyes. 

“Are you really going to pass on an opportunity to protect your family, your mate, because of your ego? I know you want everything done your way and you think you are always right, and you know what? You probably are. But this is more important than this. Just take this.” He took your hand in his and opened your palm and placed the radio and receiver in it. He closed your fingers in a fist, and let you go. “I will be in your ear, I will be there to tell you if anything’s wrong. I will do my best to fight this fight the way I think is best, the way my gut is telling me to. And when this is over, I will come. And by then, I hope I will have proven myself at least enough to be worthy of a second chance. I want to get to know you. I want you to know me. And when this is over, maybe you’ll want to. But for now, I have to go. And so do you.” He looked up and you saw that eclipse will be over any minute. Shit. Time got away from you. Neteyam would have woken up by now. Fuck.

You saw him turn around and call for his ikran. You were shocked he had passed the Iknimaya, and you made a mental note to ask him about it when you saw him next. Just for research purposes, you weren’t curious for any other reason. His ikran was beautiful, dark blue with hints of gold and pink all over, almost like the opposite of yours, the yin to your yang. You called Neyn and she came quickly, batting her wings at you playfully. She made a new friend, it seems. You sighed as you got on her and made the bond. 

“Is Spider alright?” 

“He’s fine, he’s integrated at well as could be expected. I think him and Quaritch are bonding.” You didn’t like the sounds of that, but you said no more on the subject. You were late enough as it is.

“Prove me wrong. Please.” 

“I will, kid.” 

You both took off at the same time, in the opposite directions, and you turned around and watched him with tears swiftly running down your cheeks, blown away by the warm air hitting you in the face. Dad… 

As you made your way back, your mind was running a thousand miles a minute with so many thoughts that were fighting for dominance. The top contender was concern and mind-paralysing fear at the thought of seeing Neteyam and knowing he will know, know you were gone, know you couldn’t lie, you couldn’t even try because he would know that too, and the fight that would ensue as a result. When did things get so complicated? 

You were relieved to not see any lapis blue Na’vi anywhere in sight when you dismounted your ikran, and you quickly started making your way to the village when a voice, the voice, stopped you in your tracks, like shackles to your feet. 

“You know, when we saw that sign on the tulkun yesterday, I felt your heartbeat in your wrist increase to three times its normal speed. I could feel your panted breaths in the back of my neck. I knew something was wrong. You may be able to lie to my dad, to anyone else, but you can’t lie to me, Atan.” 

Your breathing was laboured and shallow, and you felt scared to turn around, to face him. He came so close to you, his breath was making the hairs on your back stand up like needles, hurting you from the forcefulness of his presence, from the anger that was so palpable it was pulsating all around you. 

“What did you do?” 

“Neteyam…” you turned around, and you regretted looking at him. Because this wasn’t your mate, not anymore. This was the perfect soldier, the Olo’eyktan in the making, the Na’vi warrior, and he was looking at you like you were a stranger to him, like you were the enemy.

“What did you do. I need to hear you say it.” His voice was calm, too calm and it reminded you of the knife he always kept on his waist, sharp and deadly.

“Neteyam…” 

“How long has this been going on?” 

“How long has what been going for?” 

“This, you mingling with the fucking enemy, you lying to my family, to your family.” 

Your eyes widened in disbelief, as you took in the accusations your mate was carelessly throwing at you, like pebbles on the surface of the sea. 

“I know you are upset, and I am sorry I lied, but please don’t jump to conclusions.” 

“The message on the tulkun was from my dad. It was the first time I have made contact with him. I haven’t been mingling with any enemies. I just wanted to see what he wanted. I have a gun, I was prepared to kill him.”

“Your dad is a fucking murderer, he could have killed you, he could have kidnapped you. It could be a trap. We could be fucking swarmed by the RDA in the next 20 minutes and it would all be your fault.”

You couldn’t believe him, you couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. Neteyam was many things, but he wasn’t cruel and he definitely wasn’t so quick to blame, to draw unwarranted conclusions. You have known he has been acting a little strange for a while, and you knew there were things eating at him that he is yet to share, but you hated how instead of communicating them, he was lashing out like a wounded animal. You felt anger bubbling in your stomach and you tried really hard to keep it at bay, knowing that both of you attacking each other will not be productive whatsoever. 

 “Neteyam, stop. You’re being unfair. I know you are mad at me, and I know you have been upset about things you have refused to talk to me about for a while, but I will not stand and watch you attack me.” 

“You are right, it was risky, and I am sorry. But I’m not fucking stupid. I was careful, I made sure nobody followed me as much as I possibly could. I didn’t tell you because I was scared if you came, and it was a trap, you were a much bigger prize than I was.” 

“Oh, that is such fucking bullshit. If you told me and I came, you had double the chance to defeat whoever was waiting for you, whoever left you the message. But you didn’t want that, did you? You seem to like saying one thing when you mean another, don’t you?” 

“Ok, what the fuck has gotten into you? This is so not about me leaving.”

“No, it IS about you leaving. It’s about you lying. It’s about how every time I think we’re in one fucking place, it turns out we’re about five steps behind.” 

Neteyam watched as you stretched on the grass of your clearing, taking deep breaths in with your eyes closed, peacefully enjoying the outside, which you never really saw anymore. It will be your 17th birthday in a couple months, and Neteyam was wondering sorrowfully if he will get to be there for it. It’s been eating at him, the realisation he needed to leave, leave your life forever, but he was painfully grasping at every chance to see you, still be with you. He couldn’t imagine a life without you, and soon, he’ll have to live through it. 

Recently, your relationship changed. You have always been close, so close the whole world around you felt like just a playpen for your souls alone, but recently, things… evolved. Everything about it felt heightened, like it reached new zeniths Neteyam never thought anyone would be able to feel without collapsing from the intensity it pulsated through his veins. He’s always loved you, Neteyam mused. His whole life, there was not a moment he has not loved you. 

But as he watched you on the grass, soft shiny skin, so unlike his own, your tiny figure and those eyes that, despite being closed, Neteyam knew every inflection of by heart, he knew he felt more, that he fell in love with you - deeply and irrevocably. It wasn’t a recent development, either, it has been going on for a while, but in light of everything he knew he had to do, Neteyam knew it would hurt even more to vocalise these thoughts or even acknowledge them for himself. Only hurt could come of whatever it was you two had, and there would be no cure for the calamitous heartbreak he would have to go through when he did decide to leave for good, so the less he thought about you two together, your body on him, his lips on yours, spoken confessions and wondrous nights - the better.

“Hey, do you ever think about kids?”

“Kids?”

“Yeah, about having kids. About the future, about little Neteyams running around the village, one day bound to inherit your titles, and your beautiful soul and your endless good looks. ”

He blushed at your comment. He has, Neteyam thought. Multiple times. He thought about a family, about them running through this clearing, about their mother singing to them with that incandescent voice and worn-down guitar, and then he had to stop thinking about it, because it hurt, it took him out, the pain of knowing it was never going to be possible. It nauseated him, the idea of another woman, a woman he’d have to love and give himself to, a woman that wouldn’t be you, and his children that wouldn’t have your eyes, or your hair, or your propensity for being a lovable know-it-all. 

“Not really. It’s still a lifetime away. I’m just trying to enjoy each day as it comes along.”

Neteyam watched as you propped yourself up on your elbows and eyed him inquisitively. You were so tiny, you had to stretch your neck to look at his face. 

“Liar. You’re not a carpe diem kind of guy. You think about everything. You told me you had your whole future planned out when we were like seven.” You got up and walked to where he was sitting on the ground, back against the bark of a tree. When you were on your feet, your face was at the same levels as his, so you got really close to him, so close he could feel your breath on his face, and tried to ignore the thumping heartbeat and shivers going down his spine at your proximity. It’s gotten easier in time, being this close to you, as you have always been a touchy person, so he had no way of avoiding it - not that he would want to avoid it. 

“So why are you lying to me, Ne-te-yam?” 

Neteyam gulped, and he wondered if you knew - what this was doing to him, what you were doing to him. Wondered if you felt the same way, if you also felt dizzy when he was this close, if you also felt your knees weaken in his presence. 

“I’m not lying… I used to have everything planned out, but not anymore. It’s a little more complicated, this whole life thing, than I thought it was going to be when we were young.” 

Your gaze shifted from him to somewhere behind him, and you looked sad and deep in thought, subtle pain obvious in the way your eyes glistened with new-found tears.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you ever think about kids?” Your eyes found his again, and you looked hurt by his comment, and the unshed tears found their way down you cheek, that you wiped immediately. You turned around and started walking towards the river, and you kneeled next to it, looking at the way the water flowed, peaceful and determined. 

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny… you asked me, so I assumed it’s because you were thinking about it.”

“You know I can’t think about kids, Neteyam. I can’t have kids, unless I have them with Spider.” You rolled your eyes and laughed a joyless laugh and he felt anger envelop him just at the mere thought. Agonising images were flashing through his mind, of you two, a much better fit for each other, compatible in biology and bodies and he felt suddenly sick and regretful of ever asking. 

He faintly saw you look back at him, and you clarified - you knew, knew he needed it. “I’m never having children with Spider, Neteyam. I was just saying, unlike you, the prospect is never in the cards for me. You will go off, find yourself a suitable mate, beautiful and smart and kind and fit to be a Tsahik, you will have a life and a family. I won’t. I will never have a tiny me running around, I’ll never have my parents’ genes, and everything I’ve learnt, and everything I am live on.”

You sighed, and the tears were falling swiftly in the palms resting upwards in your lap.

“Would you? If you could? Have kids… with someone else?” 

You smiled a small sorrowful smile, and looked up at the sky, almost as if you were praying to whoever could hear you.

“If I could… yes. With… someone else.” 

“Just fucking admit you don’t want to have my kids. You don’t want a family.” 

And the hits keep coming. So that’s what this is about. The guilt you felt about lying to him and sneaking out was quickly dissipating and being replaced with rage, burning heavily and brightly, wanting to leave nothing but destruction in its wake. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. Why? Why are so desperate for those pills, why do you hate the thought of having a baby with me so much? Do you have any fucking clue how that makes me feel?”

“NO, Neteyam! No, I have no fucking clue, because you won’t fucking talk to me. You have some nerve to hold these feelings inside after months of me asking you what is wrong, of KNOWING you are not ok, you LYING about it and then exploding in my face and demanding an explanation in this way.” 

“You know what? You are right. I don’t want a baby with you.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you knew it was too late. You knew you made a mistake. Because while the words were true, they were also not the whole truth. And as you watched your mate’s heart shatter in front of you, yours did too. It was too late to stop, though, as the rage was eating at your insides, begging to be released. 

“Why in God’s name would I want a child with a man who continuously puts himself at risk and will most likely get themselves fucking killed in the nearby future?! I grew up without a parent, Neteyam. I grew up without a dad. And I grew up with a mother who was heartbroken because of the lack of dad, and killed herself when I was fucking 10 years old. Do you have any idea what that does to someone? Do you have any idea the hell I have lived through my whole life? The holes in my chest nobody was able to fix, not even you, they’re still there. They’re patched up nice and neat, as well as anybody could hope for, but they’re still there. They will always be there.  I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, much less on my child. So no, I do not want a baby that will grow up an orphan, that’s why I am so fucking desperate for those pills. And if you bothered to ever share with me, share what’s been bothering you, you’d know this.” 

Neteyam looked broken, eyes on you but not really, unfocused and distant, and you tried to calm down, tried to make words come out that could fix your previous ones. Your eyes were frozen on his, frozen on the tears forming in them, watching as they fell down his cheek and onto his bare chest. Eventually, it’s like he snapped back to life, and he started moving, not sparing you a second look. As he passed you by, you grabbed him by the wrist and stopped him. He removed his arm from your grasp like it burned him, like being touched by you was poisonous, and you winced at it, knowing deep down you deserved it. 

“Neteyam… I have dreamt about having a family with you for so long I can’t even remember when it started. I dreamt about our children, careless and free, happy and loud, running around the village, swimming in our clearing. I dreamt about teaching them guitar, and watching you teach them how to hunt or shoot a bow. I dreamt about them growing up and feeling sad about how quickly time is passing but being grateful for being able to watch it go by. I dreamt about their Iknimaya, and flying together for the first time. I dreamt so many things, for a long time my dreams were the only things keeping me going. Even when you were gone, the dreams, they never left. I had to live with knowing they would never come true for so long before I got the Avatar. I had to live with knowing I’d have to watch you have someone else’s babies, and it killed me. It killed me.” You were crying now, your chest convulsing in pain at the memories, at the present, at seeing Neteyam’s back tense and rigid, of not being able to look into his eyes. “When I got my Avatar, and we started being close again… when you kissed me for the first time, when you held me in your arms before my Iknimaya, I had flashes, flashes of hope, that despite my sickness, maybe those dreams weren’t impossible anymore. They were quickly shattered, of course, but they were there. Then after my consciousness transfer, the humans came back, and I was scared. I was scared of having a family during an active war. I thought we both agreed on that. Then watching you continuously put yourself at risk for Lo’ak, watching as you almost died in that train battle, it snapped something in me. My entire life, all the hurt and the pain of being orphaned came back full blast. Neteyam, if you die, I will too. And I don’t want to put an innocent being, our innocent being through that.” 

“Please, try to understand.”

You watched as Neteyam left you without another word and you were unsure if you would ever be able to fix this and you couldn’t help clutch your chest to try to alleviate the pain that was so strong it was radiating all throughout your body, just like one sentence, over and over. Did I lose him? Did I lose him? Did I lose him?

Neteyam walked towards a village like a ghost, like zombie, like a body without a soul, or a mind, just robotically taking step after step, trying to figure out if he could wake up, if this was a nightmare, if it was some sick joke. 

I don’t want a baby with you. I don’t want a baby with you. I don’t want a baby with you. 

Crack after crack, the pieces of his heart shattered like a broken jigsaw, like the one he did with you and Kiri when you were children, huddled together in the recreation hub. So he was right. He was right, his insecurities, however ridiculous they seemed sometimes, they were not without merit. You didn’t want his children. Not children, just his children. Because of who he is, because of his life choices and his desire to protect his family, his brother, you didn’t want him. Neteyam heard you justify it, and maybe somewhere deep, deep inside of him, he knew you had a point, that your own unique circumstances entitled you to this view, that you weren’t being unreasonable, but the hurt, the pain, the anguish and betrayal, they ran deeper. What was he supposed to do now? How would you ever be able to resolve this?

He noticed absentmindedly that there was commotion in the village, screams and wails coming from the Olo’eyktan’s tent. He felt himself walking towards it, with no real input from his mind, which was numb and in its own isolated, desolate little world. 

He heard Tonowari’s imposing voice, screaming over the booming voices of the villagers. As he approached, he saw his family, his father in the middle of the crowd, desperation all over his features. 

“This war has come to us! We knew about the hunting of our tulkun people, but it was over the horizon, far away! Now, it is HERE!” Neteyam saw the Metkayina poke their tongues out in a war cry, and he knew what he feared, what his family feared, is finally here. There was no avoiding it, the war with the Sky People, no avoiding the deaths that followed. Fear enveloped him, momentarily replacing the anguish you put in him, and he wondered where you were, if you had run away, as you used to like doing when you were young. Were you in danger? 

“Look, you have got to understand how the Sky People think.” His dad was trying to force his voice through the ululation, trying to get them to see reason. “They don’t care about the great balance.”

“WE DON’T ANSWER TO SKY PEOPLE.”

Neteyam couldn’t help his voice from speaking. “Listen. Listen to him.”

“They are not going to stop, this is only the beginning. You have to… tell your tulkun to leave. You gotta tell them to go far away!” 

“Leave?!” The Tsahik look disgusted with his dad, and he knew the Metkayina would never understand. None of them will, because they have never lived through what the Omatikaya had. They had no idea the depth of the cruelty, and lack of morals that plagued the aliens. They had no idea the loss his village suffered at their hands, and the sacrifices his family had to make. 

“You live among us and you learn nothing!”

“WE WILL FIGHT TO PROTECT OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS!”

“No no no no! IF YOU ATTACK, IF YOU FIGHT, THEN THEY WILL DESTROY YOU!” Pointing at Ronal’s pregnant belly, his father continued. “They will destroy everything that you love!”

“Hear my words!”

Like an out-of-body experience, Neteyam heard himself speak yet again. “Listen to my father. He speaks the truth.” 

The Toruk Makto picked the red impaling rod they found on the tulkun yesterday, got up to where the Olo’eyktan was so he was towering above everyone else, and pointed it for everyone to see. 

There was quiet all around him now, the villagers watching his dad carefully, with focused eyes. 

“You tell the tulkun that if they’re hit by one of these, they’re marked for death. And call for me, I’ll silence it. Saving their lives. That’s all that matters, right? Saving your family.”

“Tell the tulkun.” 

“Go, go!” 

Ululating can be heard all around as the Metkayina hurried and dove in the water, rushing to warn their brothers and sisters. Neteyam’s gaze shifted instantly to Lo’ak. He wouldn’t…

He would, it turns out, as Neteyam saw his baby brother hurrying out of the tent. He followed in his footsteps, knowing very well what Lo’ak was intending, knowing he had to stop him, no matter what. 

Neteyam watched as the younger Sully was sneakily placing a saddle on his ilu. 

“No way you’re running out today, baby brother.”

“I have to warn Payakan about the pingers.”

Neteyam was in no mood for this.

“No. You have got to keep your skxawng ass here.”

“He is outcast. There’s nobody to warn him but me.” Neteyam saw Lo’ak getting aggravated, the way he always got - his brother had no control over his emotions, never had, always ready and more than willing to explode at the slightest perceived slight. 

“Why do you always have to make things so hard, Lo’ak?”

“No, you mean why can’t I be the perfect son like you?” Neteyam’s heart took yet another beating, and he was unsure how much longer it could continue going in light of today, in light of everything it has had to suffer. First you, now Lo’ak, it seems everyone he loved was taking turns kicking him until the breath was knocked out of his lungs, until he would be unable to stand back up. 

“The perfect little soldier. Well, I’m not you!” 

The anger overtook Neteyam, who made his way so close to Lo’ak he was towering over him, a dark expression marring his features. 

“I’m not you. He’s my brother. I’m going.”

Crack. Crack. Crack.

“He’s your brother?” He pulled Lo’ak by the arm as he was turning away, speaking through clenched teeth. “No, I’m your brother!”

The conversation was interrupted by Tsireya and Ao’nung, both of whom jumped from their ilu and onto the platform they were on. 

“Lo’ak!” 

His brother took the opportunity that presented itself when Neteyam’s attention shifted onto the two siblings to escape his tight grip and jump into the water, immediately leaving towards Three Brothers Rock, where Payakan was. 

Neteyam didn’t think of anything else besides saving Lo’ak in that moment, and, as he called for his own ilu, he finally knew in his heart that you were right. 

You were flying, faster than you should be, considering the rain pouring all around you and the fact you could barely see a few meters in front of you, but you couldn’t stop. Because if you stopped, you’d have to think, you’d have to deal with the consequences of your actions, and that would be too much, too painful. Neyn was worried, as she could also not see, but she trusted you to guide her, she trusted you to keep her alive - her worry extended to you as well, to the horrid mood that seem to plague you, for the deep anguish in your soul that was making her cry loudly. You tried to calm her down, petting her gently. 

“Tam tam…” 

You have been going for a while now, longer than you knew you should have. You had little idea where you were, and where you were going. You didn’t even know if you could go back. Would you be able to face Neteyam again? Would you share a tent, would you ever be able to fix this?

You were so harsh, harsher than you needed to be. You hated his predisposition for following in his brother’s dangerous steps, but you promised him you’d be there to fix it. You told him you didn’t want to change him, that you would be there to patch him up. You told him you’d protect him. And instead of doing that, you struck him where it hurt most. You both had a habit of hurting each other, both had a habit of shooting to kill when in pain. So much has changed in between you, so much has changed in your worlds except the one thing that should have, that one thing that needed to. 

“Kid, are you there?” 

The voice pulled you out of your pondering, a voice you now recognised as your dad’s. 

“I’m here. Over.” 

“I don’t have a lot of time. The ship is hunting another tulkun. A solitary one.”

Oh, no… It can’t be.

“We’re about two klicks out. Kid… the Sully kids are there too.”

You felt all air being pushed from your lungs, unable to breathe in, feeling yourself becoming faint at the lack of oxygen and maddening heartbeat deafening you. 

“I will try to stop them. I don’t know if I can do this on my own.” 

Breathe. Try to breathe. 

“Hold your position. I’m coming. Get me a gun. Over and out.” 

Kiri. Tuk. Lo’ak…. Neteyam. Adrenaline coursed through your veins like icy water, waking you up, focusing your mind. You had no time to go back. You willed Neyn towards where you thought Three Brothers Rock was, and prepared yourself to fight for your life, for your family’s life, for your dad’s life. 

Your mind flashed to your fight with Neteyam, knowing you had to do everything in your power to make it right, not knowing that fight was the last conversation you will ever have with him before both of your lives are changed - forever. 

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr @amortencjja

#neteyam #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar twow #avatar fanfic #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam sully fanfiction #neteyam angst #awow #awow neteyam #avatar loak #jake sully #dilf jake sully #sully!reader #sully family x reader #sully family x sully!reader #lo'ak tsireya #lo'ak x tsireya

[qqueenofhades]

https://www.tumblr.com/qqueenofhades/745050725520965632/i-dont-know-why-i-thought-it-was-a-good-idea-to

Thank you for the links. Though I should note that I wasn't intentionally going out of my way to confront online types about this. It was more just me being in a space when the subject got brought up, and I just initially pointed out the flaws in their logic, and then it spiraled into the mess I mentioned in the OP.

You're welcome, and I absolutely know that plenty of us are not setting out to intentionally have those conversations, but are getting dragged into them anyway. But because my inbox has been very busy the last few days with people feeling (justifiably) frustrated with the anti-voting crowd and wanting to express that to someone, I hope that these links and ideas for concrete action will help everyone who is feeling frustrated and angry with the purposeful obtusity of the Online Leftists. When you feel like there's nothing you can do to change the minds of the most hardcore radicalized morons, it is helpful to remember that a) they are still a minority (a very loud and obnoxious minority, but still), and b) there ARE ways to put that frustration to use and to talk to actual real people voters who are actually willing to listen and to be persuaded, rather than just constantly lie and distort in bad faith.

While I 100% absolutely sympathize with your frustration and that of everyone else who has dropped by my inbox in the last few days, I also think it is helpful to periodically boot ourselves out of that anger/doom loop where we are only exposing ourselves to one kind of (stupid) rhetoric and therefore thinking it is the majority or something that is more widespread than it is. A lot of people have strong feelings and fear and frustration and passion about this election, and when you find yourself getting into the proverbial mud with the proverbial pig, it is always helpful to take a deep breath, step back, and find ways to work out that frustration and do something with real results. So that's the spirit in which the links were offered, and while you or anyone else is obviously under no obligation to do anything about it, meaningful action and engagement is usually a good counterweight to despair and hopelessness. Hence, a thought for the best options/places to redirect it if it interests you, and to keep in mind for when future moron encounters are driving you insane.

#anonymous #ask #apologies as i cannot answer all the asks in my inbox directly #but know that i have heard you and felt your frustration and hope you can put it to productive use with the non-online reality based crowd #politics for ts

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Élisabeth Lebas talking about Robespierre like he’s the Messiah or something compilation

[Edgar Degas] told me that, when he was a child, his mother one day took him to rue de Tournon to visit Madame Lebas, widow of the famous Convention deputy who, on 9 thermidor, killed himself with a pistol. When the visit was over, they withdrew with small steps, accompanied to the door by the old lady, when Madame Degas suddenly stopped, deeply overwhelmed. Letting go of her son's hand, she pointed at the portraits of Robespierre, of Couthon, of Saint-Just, that she had just noticed were hanging on the walls of the antechambre, and she couldn’t keep herself from crying out with horror: ”What! You still keep the faces of these monsters here!”  ”Be quiet, Célestine!” Madame Lebas cried out ardently, ”be quiet… They were saints!” Discours de l’Histoire prononcé à la distribution solennelle des prix du Lycée Jeanson-de-Sailly held by Paul Valéry on July 13 1932, cited in Robespierre ou les contradictions du jacobinisme (1978) by Albert Soboul.

I was able to converse, between 1838 and 1839, with a famous parrot who had been the friend of Robespierre. He belonged to Mme the widow Lebas, the wife of the famous Convention deputy who chose to die with Robespierre, and the mother of M. Lebas, Hellenist scholar, who died a few years ago. Mme widow Lebas, a very respectable woman, whom I had the honour of seeing often in her little house in Fontenay-aux-Roses, where she would make the sign of the cross when she pronounced the name Robespierre, adding these words: Saint Maximilien. As for her parrot, when one said "Robespierre", it replied Hats off! Hats off! It sang the Marseillaise with perfect diction and Ça ira like a Jacobin. It was — and perhaps, thanks to its diet of grain, still is — a sans-culotte parrot, the like of which can no longer be found. Mme Lebas recounted with great emotion how she had managed to save this precious psittacus  after Thermidor.  It had been seriously compromised.  After the arrest of Robespierre and Lebas, in the course of a long domiciliary inspection,  every time the name of Robespierre was pronouned the parrot would repeat its refrain, Hats off! Hats off! The government agents had grown impatient and were about to wring its neck, when Mme Lebas, as quick as lightning,  grabbed the bird, opened the window and set it free. The poor parrot flew from window to window, until it found a charitable person to open up for it; a few days later Madame Lebas was able to regain possession of this last friend left to her by Robespierre, the only one perhaps, besides his elderly mistress, who has remained faithful to his memory.  L’Union médicale: journal des intérêts scientifiques et pratiques, moraux et professionnels du corps médical (1861) volume 12, page 258-259.

Finally our providence, our good friend Robespierre, spoke to Saint-Just to engage him to let me depart with [him and Lebas], along with my sister-in-law Henriette. Élisabeth’s memoirs, cited in Le conventionnel Le Bas: d’après des documents inédits et les mémoires de sa veuve (1901), by Stéfane-Pol, page 131.

…If you had been informed of my residence, I would have been eager to tell you the truth. The good that you say of our martyrs is not too charged: they were the true friends of liberty; they lived only for the people, for their fatherland; but some monsters, in one day, destroyed everything; in one day they assassinated liberty. Yes, monsieur, a republican like you would have been happy to know those men, so virtuous on all accounts; they all died poor. Note written by Élisabeth a few years before her death regarding ”a work treating the revolution” (l’Histoire des Girondins?). Cited in Ibid, page 147.

#élisabeth lebas #élisabeth duplay #robespierre #maximilien robespierre #frev #frev compilation #originally i was just planning to compile all the times babet says he’s virtue boy number 1 #then i was like ”…you can actually make a decent compilation only of times she uses religious adjectives to describe him??”

[suzannahnatters]

I want to celebrate the end of ARTHDAL CHRONICLES s2 with a little note on Taealha, my favourite female character in all of kdrama so far.

I don't usually love girlbosses, and I normally wouldn't cheer to see one of the main antagonists of a series escape most of the consequences of her actions. But I loved this for Taealha, and I've been thinking hard about why this is.

What I think it boils down to is this: Taealha is an antagonist. But she's not a villain. And this speaks to one of the main themes I'm seeing in Asian dramas.

While an antagonist is any character who opposes the protagonists of a story, a villain is a character who is outright evil. Unusually for a character who's pitted against very idealistic heroes, Taealha isn't a villain, even though she helps to rule and uphold a desperately evil society. The show's morality is more white-and-grey than black-and-grey, in the manner of most Western grimdark fantasy. I think that Asian drama generally views systemic change through a different lens than Western drama. In Asian drama, it is the rare heroic characters - like Tanya and Eunseom - who have the courage and vision to imagine a world that is any better than the one they inhabit. While Western storytelling sees injustice often as the action of an individual villain, Eastern storytelling sees injustice as the grinding of an impersonal social machine in which those who prop up the status quo are often as helplessly imprisoned within the system as those they rule over. Their fault may not be active malice, so much as the lack of vision, courage, and selfless compassion to fight for a better world.

I think this also has something to do with why so many people in the West have trouble with the concept of systemic injustice - they think that evil in society must be the work of a few bad actors, a few individual villains, rather than of a whole social order. I also note that in Eastern drama, especially in the shows which are more conscious of social justice (like SCARLET HEART RYEO and ARTHDAL CHRONICLES), the "villain" - insofar as there is one to pit against the idealistic heroes - is society at large. In many western dramas, on the other hand, it's clear the writers desperately want to believe that society at large is good; that collective action is only ever a force for justice and never for evil.

Despite being an antagonist opposing idealistic heroes, Taealha is able to be sympathetically portrayed because she, like everyone else, is caught between the gears of a cruel society. She may be rich, beautiful, deadly, and the heiress to a great lord, but in all her privilege she, too, is subject to the machinations of her father, of the king, and of Tagon, the man she loves. She is also not the only source of evil in the show - which makes it very, very clear that the evil in Arthdal stems from every ordinary citizen who profits from slavery and engages in war. Taealha opposes Eunseom and Tanya, but she does not do so out of a desire to cause or profit from suffering. Rather, Taealha is a pragmatist whose lack of faith in the gods leads her to seek survival by working with the system rather than destroying it according to the divine will. What makes her sympathetic is that her motivation is always to protect the people she loves: Tagon and, later, Arok. In protecting her loved ones, Taealha only wants the same thing as Tanya and Eunseom - but because she has no faith in something greater than either herself or society, she chooses not to try to change the system, but to beat the system at its own game. If she's cruel, it's only because she's trapped in a cruel system; she's still doing her best.

Taealha is no worse than anyone else in the show. She simply fails to be better - and that's a big part of why we can still love her and cheer her on, even though she's one of the main antagonists.

#kdrama #arthdal chronicles #arthdal chronicles the sword of aramun

[ewthymia]

#. streamer au nahida hcs!

warning: indirect mentions to nahida's backstory, al-haitham being nahida's older brother because yes, i can and i will ~ a little long too!

notes: english is not my native language and I constantly use the translator, so there will be errors and inconsistencies! subject to a second part!

nahida started in the business of her own volition, she wanted to be able to do something that would keep her entertained and give her the chance to meet new people even indoors where she felt a little safer. she was curious to discover new horizons, but because of her former guardians, there was no way she could have the chance to experience these things, now with Al-Haitham taking care of her like her older brother, she had more freedom to be able to do what she wanted.

although she is very young, Nahida relies on Al-Haitham's protection to ensure she is safe on any platform, regardless of which network it is. he mods her live and keeps the chat filtered and healthy to ensure that Nahida is only exposed to constructive and positive comments - he doesn't tolerate any disrespect.

she likes to play anything that challenges her intelligence and stimulates her logical thinking, but she has a huge preference for games where she can enjoy a good and engaging story. she enjoys discussing the characters, their stories, and the causes of each event within the game. she is definitely one of the most theory-makers within the community and her theories are very famous for always being very well done and almost always being right, on the other hand, people don't usually credit Nahida for her ideas, which makes almost no one know where such a theory came from.

Nahida doesn't have many viewers, but those who do are faithful to their lives and schedules, she tends to talk to her viewers often and always seems to play with them using riddles and metaphors, which makes the chat quite hectic trying to unravel the mysteries for behind your sentences. she has a lot of fun with it and the chat always vibrates when Nahida is happy.

little Nahida doesn't have many friends to collaborate with, not least because every streamer who wants to get close to Nahida needs to go through Al-Haitham and Nahida's public protector first. it took a while for her to show up collaborating with other people.

she appreciates the art made by her viewers in a very special way, thanking her both on live and on twitter - the latter being made by her older brother, after all, this social network is not very "friendly" to Nahida.

likes to react to content from other streamers like Albedo and Zhongli, as the former makes amazing art and the latter is a friend of her brother but she enjoys watching him play and ramble on about random things, everything he says contributes some way to satiate Nahida's curiosity. “Sir. Zhongli is very interesting to watch. He talks about little things that might seem boring to some, but I really like how smart he is, I learn a lot from watching his lives!”

Zhongli was one of the few streamers that Nahida collaborated with and for those who liked discussions about game history or in general, he emerged victorious, as both were able to talk with extreme ease, with Nahida following all the subjects that Zhongli addressed, it was a live of learning and very peaceful. Zhongli certainly appreciated Nahida's attention and praised his intelligence! Nahida was happy and it was noticeable to everyone.

the scenery behind is always very simple and nice to look at, Nahida likes flowers and plants, so her room has a lot of green and other shades of the same color, she doesn't have many toys, but she has a lot of books on her white shelves, there were many butterfly decorations that glow in the dark scattered around the room and shelves, which made the atmosphere pleasant and cozy for her.

Nahida has a dendro slime plushie that she stays close by during the live, when she chats with the chat, she tends to hug him often.

Nahida's headsets are personalized, with designs of flowers and butterflies. when she started streaming, she wore her brother's headset, but because of the size, people started making memes as they were too big for a kid's head. Nahida thought it was funny, but Al-Haitham didn't, so he ordered a new headset befitting her, he had to work behind the scenes to make some internet trolls stop being a nuisance - he even asked Cyno for help, someone who he didn't get along very well, to control these unpleasant people and Cyno accepted just because it was for the well being of little Nahida… but all the effort was thrown in the "trash" months later when Nahida herself put one of the said memes as a photo of streaming platform profile. alhaitham.exe has stopped working

Nahida always has some ambient music playing in the background, usually classical music or nature sounds accompanied by soft melodies.

she doesn't spend money on games and is totally f2p, even if the chat sends something to her, she never uses what she won in games as she thinks there are more important things than spending on games - that being said, Nahida is good at organizing to get any character she wants in some gacha games, she learns very quickly how the system works and how to build characters, even if their damage is not her focus.

Nahida is very intelligent and mature, people tend to point this out a lot and praise her intelligence, she is very happy about it! she can unravel mysteries that older people can't, she often wins a lot of intellect games against her brother and the chat always has fun with it!

once, a big streamer who was part of a very famous group joined on Nahida's live and that brought a lot of really nasty people into the chat, Al-Haitham and his loyal viewers had a lot of work that day to control the situation, but it wasn't the enough to stop Nahida from being hit by the nasty comments, Al-Haitham had to stop the live before it took on even greater proportions and affected little Nahida too much.

that day was very chaotic and opened several discussions on twitter about trolls on the internet, respect for others and the exposure of children in streams, this took such huge proportions that several streamers spoke out, among them the twins Lumine and Aether, Zhongli, professional gamer Xiao, the bard who made lives singing - Venti -, even one of the streamers of that famous group, Childe, spoke in favor of Nahida, Albedo was not left out either, after all, his little sister Klee also participated in their lives.

even with so many supporting her, Nahida stayed off the platform for a while, thinking that she had done something wrong, even though everyone said it wasn't her fault. she only came back when she missed her viewers a lot, who sent a lot of messages on her social media daily, when she came back, she found herself with more than twice as many followers as before and once she went live, she was received with lots of love and affection for both the elders who were already watching it and the new viewers.

likes and reblogs are appreciated, do not repost without permission.

#.genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact streamer au #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact nahida #nahida #genshin impact imagine #nahida x reader #nahida x y/n #lesser lord kusanali #dendro archon #dendro archon hc #genshin impact hc #genshin impact headcanon #genshin impact brainrot #genshin au #streamer au

[zukosdualdao]

Im glad to read the takes of a fellow zuko stan :)

Honestly, it feels like people just hate on him way too much lately. The posts ive seen on twitter, on tik tok, on tumblr... Do people just not like him anymore? Why did everyone turn against him so suddenly? I've been hoping it's something temporary, just a trend, but. I don't know anymore. People mock his disability, spit on his trauma, wish death on him and interpret everything he says or does in the worst possible way. I saw someone crying about how entitled he was because he took aang's seat when watching the play just the other day lmao. Another person wrote about how mysoginistic he was because he didn't remember katara's name when asking about kya's death to sokka? There are those who even call him a colonizer on the same level as iroh lmao. It seems their justifications for all the salt they throw his way are along the lines of "he's been loved for too long, aang stans have suffered way more, people just watched the show again and realized how bad he actually was, he's catching strays since his fans keep setting him up, his fans paint him as perfect and erase every bad thing he's done" etc etc. I'm all for criticism and deeper character analysis, but this is just said in bad faith. I also think it has a bit to do with how different engagement has become in fandom spaces recently (things people support in fiction need to be morally correct) and well, zuko was the perfect target. He's done bad things, sides with the villains for a good portion of the series, redeems himself but there are things he still has to work on... I don't know, it's been getting to me. There are many other harsh things ive read said about him (like implying how every single member of the gaang hates even after redeeming himself), but i honestly don't have the energy to delve into each and every one. His arc was poorly executed and his development was badly written now, apparently. I kind of just ranted here, i apologize. Im very happy to read the posts of someone who genuinely likes him and doesnt throw him under the bus to defend or elevate other characters...

hi! i'm glad you're enjoying my blog <3 and no need to apologize for the rant, i'm always happy to talk about zuko!

about to theorize a bit as to why it seems like maybe zuko has become a more contentious character, but it should be noted i have not been exceptionally, actively involved in the fandom very long. i loved atla as a kid, have retained fond memories, have witnessed some discourse from the fringes over the years, but only recently has it overtaken my brain to the point of making a whole blog about it. lol. so, like, grain of salt, etc.

i think a big part of it is what you said - in the last few years of fandom in particular, it feels like there has been a huge upswing in purity culture, moralizing liking/not liking certain ships or characters, and an overall increase in very black-and-white thinking. there's also an emphasis on "holding people accountable" (good in theory), often without specifying what, exactly, that looks like (less good). the idea then becomes that if you've done harmful things, there's no way you can ever make up for them and should just, like, hate yourself for all eternity and also die, probably, which is not actually helpful to anyone.

so, i think for those who ascribe to that mindset, zuko is a prime candidate for them to criticize. and while there's nothing wrong with criticizing a character or their arc or writing if you truly have a problem with it, as you've said, a lot of the time, criticisms against zuko don't seem to be made in very good faith. after all, a big part of zuko's arc is having to unlearn some very black-and-white thinking. also, zuko is not a real person. he is a character, and therefore a narrative tool, and if we want him to be 'held accountable', we need look no further than the story itself, in which he is probably the character the narrative holds the most accountable for his actions due to his prior status as a villain.

(it reminds me a bit, actually, of another favorite character of mine: alec in the tv series shadowhunters. he starts out the story already in a heroic role, unlike zuko, but a big part of his narrative is unlearning some prejudiced cultural mindsets and challenging not only his previous ideologies, but his conception of himself and the people in his life as well. as a result, alec can look sometimes more obviously flawed than the other main cast, but the point is that the narrative asks him to examine those flaws and change and introspect and grow in a way that it doesn't always ask of other characters when they are showcasing their own flaws. which does make me thing about zuko vs. aang in the atla narrative.)

the other thing i think is contributing to zuko's more contentious status in the fandom is how long atla's been in the cultural consciousness, and how common it is for things that used to be popular to cycle through to people starting to criticize or actively hate it to people saying "no, actually, it's still pretty good, you just don't want to like a popular thing" (this is me rn), to maybe eventually getting popular again/at least in certain subsects of the audience. zuko was probably one of the most talked-about aspects of atla for a long time, and while i can understand how that could get frustrating (because there are some other really great characters and aspects of the story!), that's not, like, for no reason. people connected with and admired his story for a reason, and many still do, and (in my humble opinion) that is because it is one of the most thought-out, intentional, and nuanced character arcs of the show.

the ableism, i think, really gets to me because like... even if every criticism from the people who hate him were 100% accurate and said in good faith (they're not, but let's pretend for a minute)... that still wouldn't be an excuse for ableism against a character with a prominent facial difference (or making fun of abuse survivors for the permanent injuries they sustain from abuse.) if zuko had never redeemed himself and stayed a villain, it would still be wrong to talk about his scar and abuse the way some of his detractors do. and the show agrees with me! you know how i know? the only two characters to ever make fun of zuko's scar are villains in the narrative: zhao and azula. ("make fun of" might not be quite right for zhao, since what he said - "you have the scar to prove it" - is far more matter-of-fact than azula imitating him by covering her eye or "make sure they get your good side", but he's absolutely being a huge jerk about it.) other characters react to zuko's scar in all sorts of different ways, even when he's still in a villain/antagonist/anti-hero role: zuko's crew is horrified to learn how he got the scar, song sees a point of connection and tries to reach out to him, but, while i think well-intentioned, she breaks a major boundary by trying to touch his scar when he hasn't conveyed he's okay with that, jet makes assumptions about his background because of it, lee, the kid from zuko alone, asks with curious, childish naivete how he got it, only for his father to reprimand him for asking, aang reacts with annoyance/boredom to azula's ableist joke, and katara trips over her words to correct him when zuko thinks she's essentially calling him "scary to look at". not all of these interactions are positive, but the characters (all of whom are written as pretty sympathetic, even if also flawed) aren't outright trying to make fun of him for it, and the narrative never implies he deserves to be treated as less than because of it, even before his redemption.

anyway. if people don't believe in characters' (and, hell, irl people's) capacity for growth and change and don't want to have nuanced discussions about how trauma can impact these things, i mean... that's their prerogative, but i don't understand why they enjoy the show, because those are big parts of it (and not just wrt zuko.)

i know it can be frustrating, anon, (trust me, i get very frustrated.) but i promise you, there are plenty of people out there who a) still love zuko and his story and b) are capable of and willing to talk about things with nuance and in good faith. i'm happy to be part of that corner of fandom, and i bet you can manage to carve out a space where more people like that exist, too! <3

#fandom critical #aang critical #atla critical #a little. jic #ableism // #abuse // #atla #zuko #anonymous #asks #i didn't delve into some of the specifics of people's aggravating bad-faith takes anon bc otherwise this post would be 3x longer but trust #hate them too #also the world is not ready for my alec/zuko parallels post that i still haven't made #cross-media parallels #for reasons

[samwisethewitch]

Pagan Wedding Colors Cheat Sheet

In the last couple of years, there's been a move away from correspondences in the Tumblr pagan community. I mostly think that's a good thing. Correspondence lists tend to be oversimplifications and to only highlight a single trait of a given plant, crystal, color, or whatever -- and yes, you tend to lose a lot of nuance when you do that. I think, in general, encouraging people to engage with their spiritual tools and allies as complex, multi-faceted entities is a good thing.

HOWEVER, correspondence lists can be very useful as starting points for further research. A quick, simple summary of an item's use in a certain context can give readers an idea of whether that item is worth looking into further. It can also help limit research options to something more manageable for those of us that are easily prone to choice paralysis. (Hello, fellow neurodivergent pagans!)

With all of this in mind, here is my quick and dirty "cheat sheet" for pagan wedding color symbolism, correspondences, and spiritual associations. I hope this will help other pagan brides, grooms, and spouses-to-be as they design their wedding celebrations, and as always I encourage you to use this post as a jumping off point for further research and reflection.

A Quick Note About Meaning

Not everything you include in your wedding needs to have a spiritual meaning attached to it. You can include things purely because you like them or think they're cool. If you want to get married in a black dress because you think black wedding dresses look badass, that's all the reason you need -- you don't have to know the associations of the color black in different pagan traditions. Your wedding choices can be exactly as deep and symbolic as you want them to be.

Color Symbolism

White is the traditional color for weddings in Western culture. And if that tradition is meaningful to you, by all means, include white in your wedding clothes and decorations! Most pagan faiths include some form of ancestor worship, and for many of us, the last several generations of our ancestors have had white weddings. Getting married in the same color dress (or tux, or other outfit) as your parents and grandparents can be very meaningful on its own. If you choose to get married in white to honor your ancestors and your culture, that's a perfectly wonderful option.

White as "the wedding color" goes back at least to the Roman Republic. Historian Karen K. Hersch says that Roman grooms wore all white and that while brides wore a white tunic. We don't know exactly what symbolism the color white had to Romans, but it may have represented purity or new beginnings.

Outside of Rome, white was actually uncommon as a color for wedding clothes until very recently. In medieval Europe, brides dressed in a variety of colors chosen based on personal preference. White didn't become popular until 1840, when Queen Victoria married Prince Albert in a white dress trimmed with lots of white lace. This wasn't actually meant as a fashion statement -- supposedly, the queen chose the dress she did to help out the English lace industry, which was struggling at the time. Fashionable brides rushed to copy the royal couple, and the rest is history. Associations with virginity didn't come until after white wedding dresses became popular.

If you want to choose your wedding colors based on modern color associations, white is associated with purity, cleansing, new beginnings, healing, and spiritual growth. In some traditions, it is also associated with the full moon. In Wicca, white is associated with the Goddess.

Black is believed by many modern Westerners to be bad luck at weddings, mainly because it's the main color we associate with death and funerals. It's considered rude to wear black to someone else's wedding. Even so, black wedding dresses have become a trend in the last few years as a bold, slightly edgy fashion statement.

Black wedding clothes date back to the Zhou Dynasty in China, where couples wore black to avoid violating clothing taboos related to gender and social class. In 17th century Spain, Catholic women got married in black silk dresses as a sign that they were committed to their husbands until death. Goth couples have been getting married in black for decades as a way of rejecting traditional values.

Black's modern associations are protection, truth, night, outer space, banishing, and transition. Wiccan author Scott Cuningham says that black symbolizes "the ultimate source of divine energy," and in some Feri traditions it is associated with Star Goddess.

Red is the color I chose to get married in, and it's one of the most popular wedding colors across the globe. Red is the color of choice for wedding clothing in India and China. In China, red is the luckiest color and wearing it brings good fortune, especially when beginning something new.

Red may also have been one of the colors of choice for Roman weddings. Scholars are not sure what color the flammeum (bridal veil) was, but in at least one source it is described as sanguineum (blood red). Statius describes Juno, the goddess of women and marriage, giving a couple "sacred bonds" that were colored white and red. To Romans, red may have symbolized future generations, the mixing of "bloodlines," and/or the hearth of the couple's new home.

Red also played a role in some Ancient Hellenic (Greek) weddings. Athenian brides wore veils of yellow (see below) or red, which represented fire. Some sources describe the flame-colored veils scaring away evil spirits that might interfere with the couple's marriage.

While Norse culture didn't have a dedicated "wedding color," we know that red was a popular dye color for Norse women's clothes. Many Norse brides probably got married in red, and red would be a historically accurate choice for a modern Heathen wedding.

Red's modern associations are protection, the fire element, sex, romance, power, vitality, fertility, passion, courage, and good health. Scott Cunningham associates both red and orange with the God in his solar aspect.

Yellow may not be as popular with modern brides, but it has a long historic association with weddings. As previously mentioned, ancient Athenian brides wore a yellow or red veil on their wedding day, which represented fire and scared away evil spirits.

Yellow veils also played an important part in weddings in the Roman Republic. The flammeum, the bridal veil, was the single most important article of clothing in a Roman wedding -- in fact, the Roman word for weddings, nuptiae, is connected to the act of veiling. While some sources describe the flammeum as blood red (see above), there is actually even more evidence for orange-yellow veils. Pliny the Elder compared the color of a bride's veil to egg yolk. In cases where brides wore yellow veils, it was probably meant to protect them from evil spirits.

Yellow may also have been a popular color in pre-Christian Irish weddings. Although there doesn't seem to have been a standard "wedding color" in Ireland, yellow was associated with blessings, good fortune, and protection, which would have made it an obvious choice for weddings. We know that yellow was one of the most popular colors for clothing in medieval Ireland, with sources describing clothes as "saffron." Yellow clothing was so closely tied to Irish identity that it was actually banned under British occupation!

Yellow's modern associations are success, inspiration, communication, mental clarity, divination, the element of air, charm, confidence, joy, and harmony. Gold has similar associations to yellow.

Blue is a beautiful color for weddings, and used to be much more common. In medieval Europe, blue was one of the most popular colors for wedding dresses because of its association with the Virgin Mary. By wearing Mary's color at their weddings, brides emphasized their purity, virginity, and piety.

Blue's modern associations are healing, stillness, peace, the water element, psychic abilities, truth, patience, understanding, devotion, wisdom, and the ocean. Scott Cunningham associates blue with the Goddess in her watery aspect.

Purple may have been one of the colors of choice for Hellenic weddings. Achilles Tatius describes a bride wearing a purple dress in his romance Leucippe and Clitophon. In the Roman Republic, purple was associated with manhood, and white togas with a purple hem were a sign of a boy coming of age.

In medieval Europe, purple was a color reserved for royalty, and it was actually illegal for people who weren't royals to wear purple clothing.

Purple's modern associations are mystery, magic, divine power, spiritual awareness, sentimentality, wisdom, strength, and progress. Scott Cunningham associates purple with a deepening connection to the God and Goddess.

Silver is another color that may have been part of Hellenic weddings. In Hesiod's Theogony, Pandora is described wearing a silver dress at her wedding.

Silver's modern associations are refinement, wealth, the moon, nobility, and sophistication. In Wiccan and other neopagan communities, silver is associated with the Goddess in her lunar aspect.

Green is a popular wedding color for modern pagans, especially those who follow a nature-based path. It represents the lush fertility of the earth and is connected to fertility spirits like the Green Man.

It's important to note that green used to be considered an unlucky color for weddings, especially in Celtic cultures. This is because of the color's close connection to Fairy. Green was considered the Other Crowd's color, and wearing it could attract their attention in a negative way.

Green's modern associations are nature, plants, the earth element, money, wealth, prosperity, good luck, growth, rejuvenation, nurturing, and good health.

Pink may not have been very popular with ancient cultures (although some sources describe the Roman flammeum as a reddish-pink), but it is one of the colors most strongly associated with romantic love in modern popular culture. Pink is a soft, romantic, dreamy color, and is perfect for sweet, intimate weddings.

Pink is associated with romantic love, friendship, self love, compassion, playfulness, sweetness, emotional well-being, unity, honor, and spiritual healing.

Resources:

The Roman Wedding by Karen K. Hersch

"Bridal Attire in Ancient Greece and Rome" on Women In Antiquity

"Typical ancient Greek wedding day" on History Weddings

"The Ancient Egyptian Bride" by Ilene Springer

Where the Hawthorn Grows by Morgan Daimler

Sex and Marriage in Ancient Ireland by Patrick C. Powe

"The Léine" by Matthew Newsome

"What did Vikings wear, really? Attempting a historically accurate womens Viking costume" by SnapyDragon

Modern Handfasting by Liz Williams

Witchcraft for Everyone by Sam Wise

Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner by Scott Cunningham

"What Does a Black Wedding Dress Mean?" by Andrea Papillon

#yes i know this gif is the hotd incest couple but its very hard to find non-christian wedding gifs okay #the great handfasting project #pagan wedding #handfasting #color correspondences #correspondences #heathenry #inclusive heathenry #religio romana #cultus deorum #roman polytheism #hellenic polytheism #hellenism #irish polytheism #irish paganism #celtic polytheism #celtic paganism #wicca #wiccan #feri #color magic #wedding magic #love magic #love spell #long post #my writing #history

[decepti-thots]

re: writing fandom meta and why there might be less of it recently - the fandom spaces I started out in ~15 years ago didn't have any meta, at least not in the way they have now, so the whole thing is comparably new to me. and then the meta I see always posts that seem to take SO MUCH of canon/background knowledge into account, so many things that I haven't even heard of. and there's so many posts criticizing (parts of) fanon and common fannish opinions, which I often understand, but which also feel a bit elitist and doesn't make me wanna try putting my thoughts on a piece of media into words just to get criticized. finally, I also don't know how to - last time I analyzed media was in school, and I was never good at it.

Thank you for this ask anon, first off! All of this is really interesting to hear, and a lot of it lines up with things people said in shorter responses directly on the post, so it looks like there's definitely some overlap in terms of common pain points in terms of this stuff. (And not just "pain" points, to be clear- folks also basically said that they preferred expressing their ideas through fiction, which is fair, and not really a thing that exists as something causing friction, per se, as much as an active enjoyment of fanfic as a way to express ideas.)

I hope you don't mind if I use this response as a launching point to give a few of my personal thoughts on this, because you so happened to bring some stuff up I kind of wanted to give a perspective on anyway. Not necessarily as a direct response in all regards, but it seems as good a place as any to touch on my own feelings? (Under a cut, feel free to skip this, if you do then thanks again for responding!)

The point you make about how meta wasn't much a thing in fandom spaces you were in 15 years ago is interesting, because one of the things I always think when I see the argument there's universally "less meta" now than there used to be is: does at least some of this stem from the folks saying(/bemoaning) this come from them being in different fannish spaces that the ones they're in now and not realising? It's a similar thing to when people confidently assert "people comment less on fics than they used to", where I can't help but wonder how much of that is just that the fandoms they are in today have different ways of engaging with fanwork, or different expectations, or that the fandom spaces they used to be in commented a lot relatively speaking. 15 years ago, I was in fandoms mostly based around LiveJournal communities, which were often assumed to be the obvious "centre" of fandom activity by folks in said communities. (Incorrectly; LJ only looked like the "main hub" of all online fannishness if it was where you and your fandoms mostly clustered, IME.) A lot of those were media fandoms (though not all) and those tended to have a lot of meta, I would argue at least in part because LJ as a "format" encouraged the posting of long, pre-mediated posts that lent itself well to folks wanting to write meta. But some other fandoms (a lot of anglophone animanga fandoms come to mind) tended to not have nearly as much because people were mostly engaging with them in places and communities where those things didn't line up in a way that encouraged it. The move to Tumblr and even Twitter as big fannish platforms where things work differently is then probably also of note, idk!

(Sidenote: the AO3 meta wars when it launched are probably worth mentioning, since the push to allow fannish nonfiction on AO3 was in part a result of Tumblr seeming like a very bad replacement for LJ when it came to posting essays!)

Anyway, a really common thing that seems to be cropping up is the "if I post an opinion as meta, it opens me up to [potentially virulent, potentially bad-faith] criticism, and that sounds unfun" fear. Which on the one hand is not necessarily untrue because I think even now fannish norms around meta are just a little different than other forms of fanworks, yes. Meta is usually seen as, on some level, an invitation to discussion in a way that e.g. fanfic often isn't. What I do think is interesting to think about here is it seems like there's not a lot of faith that there could be productive, even fun disagreement on specifics and readings. I'm not saying that wariness is necessarily wrong, to be clear. (I have been on the receiving end of plenty of virulent, bad faith "criticism" in my fannish life, haha. Or just... like... bad criticism that is tiring and unproductive and unnecessary, lol.) I mention it more because it seems worth explicitly saying that the assumption that being contradicted, corrected and/or argued with is an inherently unpleasant or even disciplinary way to experience fandom is one that seems to be pretty deep-rooted in fandom right now, and it seems worth pointing that underlying principle out.

To bring that back a little to the "platform shapes the fandom engagement" thing, I do think the way Tumblr works contributes to that. Reblogging to add additions has a very different impact that replying to someone else's static blogpost, and reblogging is (as people do keep pointing out on viral posts, haha) the primary encouraged form of interaction on this site. It's different in multiple ways; a person reblogging something often feels like they are talking about your ideas in the abstract and not by talking to you as a person which can encourage a very different tone and approach on their part and make their addition read very differently. And it also means that your post may not just be contradicted, but the contradiction may wind up being exposed to huge numbers of people as the default way of seeing your post and opinions. That makes the idea of being subject to that disagreement higher stakes, I feel, and also the idea of productive back-and-forth functionally impossible a lot of the time. (It also means having a full conversation often requires constantly spamming your followers, let alone multiple convos.)

So I fully get it. But I do also think it's a shame that it can be really hard to imagine fannish communities where disagreeing back and forth on different ideas about a canon or text is... fun? I guess? I sometimes find that stuff fun, is the thing! When done in a good faith way and an environment it works in. You wind up with all these interesting perspectives that may run very contrary to your own but still have interesting ideas in them, and sometimes you wind up with opportunities to expand on ideas you had but hadn't yet found a way to articulate them. I don't think that's going to be fun for EVERYONE but I think it's a shame that it seems so universally... terrifying, for a lot of people? Fandom is a very good place, if nothing else, to practice getting comfortable with low-stakes intellectual disagreement. (Because for most things, it really is low-stakes as hell.)

I do want to touch on the elitism comment though. I find that... a strange perspective tbh? It's true that doing analysis generally holds a baseline expectation of familiarity with the canon, but I can't really see how that can reasonably be called "elitist". Similarly I think there's a sense where someone will sometimes see people strongly dislike a thing they enjoy and feel the need to argue why that person is "wrong", such as when folks defend their fave fanon against folks who find it tiring/uninspired/etc. I think this post really sums my thoughts on that up, tbh. Sometimes what can kneejerk feel like a person passing judgement on you is actually them being a bit bitchy in their own space knowing full well they're talking about their own taste and nothing more. IDK.

[manonamora-if]

i dont know if u feel up for it to answer but like... how do u handle negative comments and ratings and just people being negative about ur stuff? bc i have someone just being rude in comments or like notes and game folders on itch and its making me want to just delete everything and never show anyone anything anymore. or even have an acocunt on itch either.

Hi Anon,

I'm sorry you've been dealing with this, and that it took me so long to answer. I've been thinking about this for a while honestly. I've been writing a bunch of drafts for this one, because my answer seems to change with the day or my mood. Some of my stuff have had some strange interactions lately that's made me question whether I should stay on itch myself. I mean, I don't think I'll ever leave... there are too many fun jams I want to participate and, you know, to force people to play my weird stuff. But I've been more anxious about new stuff or updates I share recently.

I don't blame you for wanting an out. Some users will poison one's experience of a platform, that even opening the site would give them anxiety. It doesn't take much to have events or projects soured. Often, just a few rude words is enough to make accounts disappear without a word. And many platform don't have good safety nets (blocking, moderation, reports) to temper or avoid these situations. Many will have half-ass solutions that, at the end of the day, still allows interactions from blocked users. It's easy to wonder if all of this is worth it...

Anyway, the very boring and short answer to your question: it depends.

The probably as boring and long one is a bit of a ramble:

It depends on the day, or the mood I have. It's easier to deal with comments when I'm confident and things are going find; but I'd feel more hurt or have a harder time dealing with them when I'm a bit more morose (I think most people feel this way). I'll disregard any (even barely) negative points some days, only to take it into consideration a few days later. <- this especially during jam/comps time, just need time to digest criticism of any kind.

It also depends on the content of the comment, their tone, and intent of the commenter. Not all negative comments are on the same level. I've had negative comments in the past where the commenter was genuine, and really gave my stuff a shot, bringing interesting points or important concerns. And though it hurt a bit, because being told you made a mistake sucks, those helped me grow. But those are the good kinds of comments...

On the other hand, I try to disregard the trolls, and the abusive comments (towards my work or me), the ones where the engagement was clearly not done in good faith... you know, the ones who will literally tell me I've made the world worse by uploading my games on itch. Doesn't mean that it doesn't affect me at all*. Some of them really hurt or made me angry and frustrated, some have lingered for hours or days in my mind, a few made me close to delete stuff as well. Words are not just empty things without meaning... *I've had to block a few people both here and other places recently because of it, they had become so insistent on wanting to engage with me while bashing most of my work, my values or the few aspects of my identity that I've shared online.

It would be easy to say I just don't give them the time of day or any of my energy, or that I pretend they don't exist, because, if I do, then the trolls win. But that would be lying. Obviously.

Screaming to the void/a pillow or ranting to friends have helped get rid of my anger and frustration. I've laughed with others about some comments I got (usually the bad faith ones, some of them are funny in how sad/bad they were). I think what worked best for me was just turn off the computer and go outside for a bit. Or turned off the internet and play silly games on my phone. Or picked up a book. Or watch a movie. Essentially, any activity that would distract me from it and force me to take a break. And when none of this worked, because some trolls are just that insistent, blocking/deleting stuff*. *unfortunately, it's not always possible, see second paragraph again.

It does suck that you're kinda forced to grow a thicker skin to enjoy or even exist in those spaces, and I wish those would be friendlier... but I don't think social platforms/the internet is going in that direction anytime soon.

Maybe not super helpful to your decision, but borogove.io hosts IF games (without ratings or comments, though people can download the files), so does the IFDB through the IFArchive (but there are ratings/reviews there, also can be downloadable). I've seen other peeps host their stuff on neocities (no ratings/comments). None of those platforms are like itch, in the positives or the negative. Or just be old school, and email stuff.

#ask box #gosh I wish I had more concrete stuff to help #or a more positive mindset on things #but yea #I hope things get better for you anon #and that you find what's best for you! #lots of rambles #sorry

[banavalope]

Calling it an ARG isn’t just ‘technically’ incorrect its 100% incorrect. It wasn’t even a fandom thing the creator made it as an art project and it blew up overwhelmingly and now they don’t even want to do it anymore

Look bud, you’ve kind of got me between a rock and a hard place here. The artist has asked people not use his words as artillery against each other, and quoting him directly is the only way I can accurately respond to you, so we've come to an impasse.

Anyway I wanna talk about ARG semantics instead, which is an interesting conversation we can both have together.

It involves analyzing analog horror as a whole to understand how we've arrived at having both a modern, and a traditional, definition of ARG.

To make a long story short, just in the event you're not here in good faith or perhaps don't like reading long essays - also to like. Do everyone a favor rq - the word people are looking for to properly define Welcome Home is ergodic analog horror. This is the umbrella term you're all looking for. Ergodic. We're moving on now.

Might I also recommend two video essays I love if you find this topic interesting: Ergodic Literature: The Weirdest Book Genre by CloudCuckooCountry and History of Analog Horror by Alex Hera

So lets ask: What makes something (not Welcome Home, we're not talking about that anymore, I do literally mean Something in General) "technically" an ARG?

Our modern day definition of an ARG has quite honestly become interchangeable with the term ergodic literature, most likely due to "ergodic literature" being an obscure term; however, the evolution of the analog horror genre subverting what it means to be "a game" is a much more likely cause that I think is important to appreciate.

By traditional definition - perhaps having been lost to time, this was the early 00s after all - an ARG is only a proper ARG when there is a game master orchestrating a game, and the story does not, will not, and can not progress without player participation. There are quite a few famous ARGs our there that went on for years before being finished because the participants got stuck. It's entirely on you to finish the narrative. Think of them like global LARP sessions, a lot of visiting physical locations to get your next clue is involved.

There are lots of traditional ARGs, some famous ones include projects like I Love Bees, Blair Witch Project, and the very infamous "Hey Peabrain, you teleport?" that happened right here on tumblr dot com. These games are my experience with defining what is or isn't an ARG.

Of course, time moves on with or without us, and I've come to accept that ARG is a broader term than it was before.

It's important to note that ARGs are the direct birth parent of modern analog horror. In fact, while analog horror has always existed as a sort of artistic backdrop, it wasn't a named genre until Local58 offhandedly defined itself with the term "analog horror". Many well known analog horror projects such as Mandela Catelogue, Gemini Home Entertainment, or Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, take much of their inspiration from the groundwork Local58 laid, and took to calling themselves analog horror as well, as one might expect.

Now, these influential supergiants are in, what you might call, "read only" format. Audience participation is not needed for the story to progress, which is a necessary component of an ARG.

Until it isn't!

Looking at art projects like This House Has People In It, Liminal Land, Doki Doki Liturature Club, or House of Leaves - just to name a few - they are all alternate reality "games" (one of them is literally a game). AR"G"'s, if you will.

The narrative presents itself as being contained, but very much is asking you to engage with it, if you so choose. They lay out clues to be found that take you to the next Easter Egg, and a deeper story can be ascertained, but only if you want. This is, technically, an ARG.

You can also just choose to play Doki Doki without digging into the sound files and extracting the meta data to get the secret art, or just watch This House Has People In It without finding the related secret website explaining Links Disease, either option is a "correct" way to read the media. You only stand to gain a different perspective by looking into more.

Which again, that's ergodic literature.

But these projects are famously considered ARGs.

These projects were huge, some of them mainstream, and were a lot of people's first time introduction to analog horror and ergodic literature. Some of these self define as an ARG when that's technically incorrect.

Altruistically, what these projects are accomplishing, is creating accessibility to the game space of the ARG genre. Cherrypicking all the self contained, gamelike elements, without committing to orchestrating a game. Traditional ARGs are typically extremely time sensitive, and one might "miss out" for arriving late to an event, or having limited access to necessary tools. Perhaps some people feel unsafe at the prospect of going to an unknown physical location, on the hope it's part of the game. Traditional ARGs were once incredibly niche for that reason. Modern AR"G"s keep this to a minimum, if not outright omit it in favor of telling a good story.

I'm not sure if there's a recent example out there of a traditional ARG, other than Hey Peabrain? Certainly there are some, to be honest with you I've moved on from traditional ARGs in favor of modern ones and other analog horror media subgenres, but my point being that they're becoming less common as they're increasingly replaced by Hunt-A-Killer style story ""games"". Shortly, we'll see some of the same evolutions begin to happen as digital horror outpaces analog horror as the shiny new popular horror genre. With digital horror's inclusion of formats like tiktok, I would expect to see us circle around again to traditional games being explored within the alternate reality space, as it lends itself well to that kind of thing.

In general, people are going to be familiar with this form of ARG, where "game" means "a story asking you to engage with it", and will default to using ARG in that way. In the broader experience of others, ergodic literature is an ARG, even though ARGs are not ergodic literature, technically. Most ARGs calling themself an ARG are not ARGs, mntechnically.

With any luck, this essay was compelling. It's just a thinker, really, I'd be interested to hear what you - or anyone - might think.

I'll reiterate, here, in closing, that by no means is this analysis meant to be seen as being in defence of, or opposition against, how anyone chooses to use the term ARG. I'm making no statements about Welcome Home or the people who took to it as if it were a traditional ARG. Neither am I expressing my opinion on the way fans engage with art projects, or even actual ARGs. That's a whole other conversation we aren't having here.

[stvlti]

Fic writer tag

@silenthillmutual tagged me in this challenge. Cheers! Here are my answers:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Not counting orphaned / anonymous works, I have 48 fics across both accounts

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

168,810 (sum total of both accounts)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

DC comics & related media; Death Note; Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (way way back); Noragami (also way way back).

I used to write RPF too (I was a teenager, of course I did) but I've scrubbed all that from my ao3 profiles.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

top 5 fics not including anonymous ones:

Old aches become new again (DCU | Jason & Dick shenanigans, background Jay/Roy/Kori)

Imposter Syndrome (DCU | JayRoy)

Growing Pains (DCU × The Lego Batman Movie | Dick & Batdad gen fic)

if you can't summon your own tentacles, store-bought is fine (DCU | JayRoy)

the hands that worship you (Black Mirror: Bandersnatch | Colin/Stefan)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Always! It might take days weeks or months depending on what I have going on in my life but yeah :) unless it's a hate comment or bad faith criticisms. Oh and comments asking questions that I've already answered in the author's notes or in other comments or in the text itself (which yes, has happened before. I guess it was good for ""engagement "" but it's not stuff I want to explain again and again like a broken record. I'm not paid to do that - unlike at my day job.......)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

🤡 I've written my fair share of dark fics so it's definitely one of those ones. You can DM me if you wanna know but I am not telling on myself here

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Growing Pains, no contest, because it ends with trans acceptance 💚

But I also think happy endings at the end of a high stakes fic are even more rewarding? In which case it would have to be This Mirror Ain't Big Enough For the Two of Us

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have, once, on a genderbend fic. Some guy was outraged I made Jason a girl lol. But hate comments are few and far between for me because I'm not a bnf by any means

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

Yeah. I write a lot of pwps because they're easy. From there I either go into pwp with feelings territory, crack territory or, well, if it's a dark fic...........one of my longest nsfw fics is a Jason Todd/Scarecrow fic. You get the picture. (That one isn't without plot though.)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

Man. I actually once wrote a YouTube RPF x Death Note crossover. iykyk. But out of my surviving fics the only crossover that I still have posted online is a Death Note x DC fic.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've translated other people's fics, but I don't think I've had mine translated by others

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes but that's from before my ao3 days

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Rem x Misa (Death Note). I go through phases of shipping different pairings but Rem x Misa is the one that I can always come back to and write stuff for / look at art about.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My Teen Titans Dark Academia au. And on that note: I don't even know if I'll have the time to come back to writing long fics period. It's been 8 months since I last worked on my Jaime (Blue Beetle)/Eddie (Kid Devil)/Rose Wilson/Traci 13 road trip & interdimensional travel fic...........

16. What are your writing strengths?

My prose when I'm in the mood to write well. Poetry is my main medium these days so I'm very good at throwing in lots of one liners into my prose too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Trying to pace my story beats and juggle multiple subplots once my projects get into 10K+ / long fic territory.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

As long as the author actually knows what they're doing. The language has to be authentic and not Google Translate gibberish. And then for accessibility's sake they should include the translation either in-text or in the end notes.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

YouTube RPF 😑

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

It's a tie between:

And the encore lasts forever (DCU x Titans TV | trans!Jason/Rose)

Exit Strategy (DCU | Rose Wilson character study)

Tagging @kiseiakhun @thenaphorism @shhhenanigans @smagata @reaperlight @mihaelkeehl or any mutuals who post fics!

#tag game #writing tag