#not my creation but cannot find the original

[startold-a]

[gothhabiba]

Hi, this is very ignorant. I'm trying to read as much as I can on Palestine and Zionism but there is one point I cannot find an answer for. Given that Zionism is not Judaism, given that at the beginning most Jewish people did not share this view and was actually supported by christians with antisemitic views, given that it was conceptualized as a colonial project that could only be actualized by ethnically cleanse Palestine, one thing I don't know how to disagree with Zionists is the idea that Jewish people do come from that land. Even if European jews are probably not genetically related to the Jewish people from there, I think Jewishness is something that can be constructed as related to that land. This of course does not mean that Palestinians are not natives too and they have every right to their land. However I don't really know how to answer when Jewish (Zionists) tell me that Jewish people fled that land during the diaspora. Other than "yeah but the people that stayed are native that underwent christianization before, arabization later, grew a sense of nationhood in the 19th century and are Palestinians now"

It's a fundamental misunderstanding of what "indigeneity" is to believe that it means "whoever has the oldest claim to the land." Rather, to describe a people as "indigenous" is a reference to their current relationship to the government and to the land—namely that they have been or are being dispossessed from that land in favour of other private owners (settlers); they have a separate, inferior status to settlers according to the law, explicitly; they are shut out of institutions created by the settler state, explicitly; they are targeted implicitly by the laws of the settler state (e.g. Israeli prohibitions against harvesting wild thyme or using donkeys or horses for transportation); the settler state does not punish violence against them; &c. &c.

It is a settler-colonialist state that creates indigeneity; without one, it is perfectly possible for immigrants to move to and live in a new location without becoming settlers, with the superior cultural and legal status and suppression of a legally inferior population that that entails.

If all that were going on were some Jewish people feeling a personal or religious connexion to this land and wanting to move there, accepting the existing people and culture and living with them, not expelling and killing local populations and creating a settler-colonialist state that privileges them at the expense of extant populations, that would be a completely different situation. But any assertion of the land's fundamental Jewish-ness (really they mean white or European Jewishness—the Jewish Arabs who were already in Palestine never seem to figure in these arguments) is a canard that distracts from the fundamental issue, which is a people's right to resist dispossession, ethnic cleansing, and genocide.

Decolonize Palestine lays out some of the ethnic and cultural history of the region, but follows it up with:

So, what does this all mean for Palestine? Absolutely nothing. Although the argument has many ahistorical assumptions and claims, it is not these which form its greatest weakness. The whole argument is a trap. The basic implication of this line of argumentation is as follows: If the Jewish people were in Palestine before the Arabs, then the land belongs to them. Therefore, the creation of Israel would be justified. From my experience, whenever this argument is used, the automatic response of Palestinians is to say that their ancestors were there first. These ancestors being the Canaanites. The idea that Palestinians are the descendants of only one particular group in a region with mass migrations and dozens of different empires and peoples is not only ahistorical, but this line of thought indirectly legitimizes the original argument they are fighting against. This is because it implies that the only reason Israel’s creation is unjustified is because their Palestinian ancestors were there first. It implies that the problem with the argument lies in the details, not that the argument as a whole is absolute nonsense and shouldn’t even be entertained. The ethnic cleansing, massacres and colonialism needed to establish Israel can never be justified, regardless of who was there first. It’s a moot point. Even if we follow the argument that Palestinians have only been there for 1300 years, does this suddenly legitimize the expulsion of hundreds of thousands? Of course not. There is no possible scenario where it is excusable to ethnically cleanse a people and colonize their lands. Human rights apply to people universally, regardless of whether they have lived in an area for a year or ten thousand years. If we reject the “we were there first” argument, and not treat it as a legitimizing factor for Israel’s creation, then we can focus on the real history, without any ideological agendas. We could trace how our pasts intersected throughout the centuries. After all, there is indeed Jewish history in Palestine. This history forms a part of the Palestinian past and heritage, just like every other group, kingdom or empire that settled there does. We must stop viewing Palestinian and Jewish histories as competing, mutually exclusive entities, because for most of history they have not been. These positions can be maintained while simultaneously rejecting Zionism and its colonialism. After all, this ideologically driven impulse to imagine our ancestors as some closed, well defined, unchanging homogenous group having exclusive ownership over lands corresponding to modern day borders has nothing to do with the actual history of the area, and everything to do with modern notions of ethnic nationalism and colonialism.

I would also be careful about mentioning a sense of "nationhood" or "national identity" in this context, as it could seem to imply that people need a "national" identity (a very specific and very new idea) in order not to deserve genocide. Actually the idea that Palestinians lacked a national identity (of the kind that developed in 19th-century Europe) is commonly used to justify Zionism. Again from Decolonize Palestine:

This slogan ["A land without a people for a people without a land"] persists to this day because it was never meant to be literal, but colonial and ideological. This phrase is yet another formulation of the concept of Terra Nullius meaning “nobody’s land”. In one form or the other, this concept played a significant role in legitimizing the erasure of the native population in virtually every settler colony, and laying down the ‘legal’ and ‘moral’ basis for seizing native land. According to this principle, any lands not managed in a ‘modern’ fashion were considered empty by the colonists, and therefore up for grabs. Essentially, yes there are people there but no people that mattered or were worth considering. There is no doubt that Zionism is a settler colonial movement intent on replacing the natives. As a matter of fact, this was a point of pride for the early Zionists, as they saw the inhabitants of the land as backwards and barbaric, and that a positive aspect of Zionism would be the establishment of a modern nation state there to act as a bulwark against these ‘regressive’ forces in the east [You can read more about this here]. A characteristic feature of early Zionist political discourse is pretending that Palestinians exist only as individuals or sometimes communities, but never as constituting a people or a nation. This was accompanied by the typical arrogance and condescension towards the natives seen in virtually every settler colonial movement. That the early settlers interacted with the natives while simultaneously claiming the land was empty was not seen as contradictory to them. According to these colonists, even if some scattered, disorganized people did exist, they were not worthy of the land they inhabited. They were unable to transform the land into a modern functioning nation state, extract resources efficiently and contribute to ‘civilization’ through the free market, unlike the settlers. Patrick Wolfe’s scholarship on Australia illustrates this dynamic and how it was exploited to establish the settler colony.

[theneighborhoodsave]

V1: Willow Creek + Magnolia Promenade 🏠

The Neighborhood is a CC-free save file that explores the concept of home. V1 celebrates the vibrant communities of the U.S. Gulf Coast. ❤️

This is what comes in V1:

13 community lots

22 total residences (includes 3 multi-family rental lots, 9 single family homes)

New High School & Auditorium in Copperdale (+8 school staff townies)

Secret lot (Sylvan Glade) reimagined

17 unique households with skills, jobs, relationships, and stories that tie into the town

New clubs and holidays

Download, screenshots & more info below ↪

The wonderful Ly family in Willow Creek was lovingly created for the save by @cowplant-snacks. All other neighbors were made by me, you can meet all of them here! Pets are from Pugowned, misc. townies from @cowplant-snacks and @simsontherope on the gallery.

There's lots of little details and things to explore, both around the world and relationship wise, so I'm excited to see what y'all uncover. Please feel free to @theneighborhoodsave in your posts or tag #theneighborhoodsave. I'd love to see what your sims are up to!

I also want to say thank you to anyone who's appreciated this creative journey with me. This save feels like home to me and y'all have supported me every step of the way!

Download the The Neighborhood save on SFS

Alt: Google Drive

The save is 100% CC free! Please note that I do have all expansions, packs, and kits (except for Castle Estate, Goth Galore + Crystal Creations.) For any items you don't own the game will try to auto find replacements for those items. The file is mostly blank this time around but does include the original EA builds in university and vacation type worlds (sans Granite Falls.)

Included is a folder of completely optional skin details/eyelashes for the neighbor sims. Thank you to @faaeish, @pyxiidis, @tamo-sim, and @landgraabbed! There are 4 pieces of CC I cannot include in the folder due to creator TOU. Please check the included "Read Me" file for more information.

All builds and families are up on the gallery (@sweetbeagaming) + tray files have been shared here.

If you've never used a save file and need help installing it, I highly recommend this tutorial by @leeleebsimming.

⚠️ A couple of disclaimers here due to some existing EA bugs. EDIT 4/25: Included in that link are directions on how to avoid TOOL'd items from disappearing. If you want to keep powerlines and such please check this out! ⚠️

Everything was tested to work around these, but I wanted to put them out there as an FYI.

TOU: Please don't reupload my save/builds/sims, claim as your own, and absolutely do not paywall them. Other than that feel free to build your own Neighborhood stories however you'd like!

[idiotmf]

Moving into a house infested by shadow demons

I may have this recent obsession with my newest creation for random blurbs I write, but... hear me out while I dump random information on you that you didn't ask for... (also NSFW, minors scram)

Shadow demons are beings made of, well, shadows. They can hide in yours or manifest as anything they want, shape-shifters if you will.

Since they are beings made of shadows, they cannot catch light, therefore they are a little hard to make out, often appearing more as a silhouette but they do have very distinctive, glowing eyes.

Very original, I know.

Now... They infest houses, apartments or just general areas. They're typically regarded as low level demons, as they are bound to the area they infest, feeding off of human emotions; specifically strong emotions like fear, hopelessness and, most importantly, lust.

I currently have two shadow demons that I adore writing about and they are... Well, I feel like they would hate each other.

× Aryllus

Aryllus is a sweetheart. He isn't interested in feeding off of emotions. He finds life fascinating, he loves spending his endless time reading, observing the animals and humans outside this old brick cottage that he can't leave.

He's very blunt and emotionally not the most intelligent but he makes up for it with his academic intellect. He's been trapped here for a century, maybe two. He doesn't know. Time is of no concept to demons, after all.

He's also shy at first. He doesn't want to be discovered by humans. He dislikes being treated like a pest or an inconvenience, so he would rather starve for all eternity than be viewed as a monster.

When you do discover him, and you don't seem afraid of him, he rejoices. He's patient and gentle in every interaction, thinking he has no morals as a demon but very clearly being a kind entity.

But... be careful, even if a shadow demon's primary food is emotions, Aryllus will probably steal your sandwich. And then try to eat the plastic it came in. (-_-')

And then there is...

× Oryllion

Oryllion is heartless, manipulative and possessive. His only interest lies in breaking the inhabitants of his infested house, making them his mindless little toys for his insatiable hunger.

His preferred method is keeping you in a constant state of arousal by any means necessary. You're working on something? Too bad, he's eating you out/ sucking you off under the table. You want to leave? No, he's tying you up with his tendrils and attaching little suckers to your nipples until you scream in agony and pleasure.

He's dominant and degrading, never once uttering your name. You're merely his pet or his toy. His eyes, while nothing more than glowing white orbs, show disgust with you. Even while he shapes his body into the most incomprehensible shape, writhing with obscene appendages and a sheer endless amount of limbs just to force you to orgasm for his next feast, he clearly looks down on you. Humiliation is a part of the fun for him.

But... As much as he wishes, even Oryllion can't fuck everyone into submission. Occasionally, families will move into his domain, much to his dismay.

But hey, at least he gets to traumatize children with his SFW Eldritch horror shapes for a quick snack.

[simkoos]

as a cc creator you often look back at your old creations and think "yea i could've done that so much better lmao". that's kind of been my mindset for the last couple of months. so i decided to clean up and revive (yet again) some of my older cc collections!

meshes have been fixed (some objects didn't even have all lod's or shadowmaps smh) or moderately edited to conform to my current aesthetics

textures have been hugely improved along with better color palettes, neater normals and speculars

please delete all old files before adding these! they will replace in-game but you cannot have the old versions and the new versions installed at the same time. 

~~~

12pm includes 6 items just as the originals. the panda bank is now functional if you have ravasheen's 'in your safe piggy bank' mod installed.

fps includes 3 items. (you can find the originals here) both video game consoles require city living.

home includes 8 items, originally 6. both the shelves and desk have way more slots for extra storage!

liselotte includes 6 items. the original set is still available here if you prefer that instead. not a lot has been changed except for minor edits to the folded towels and a mesh replacement of the toothbrushes. also i've left out the bath robes since i personally don't have a use for them since that one bg recolor update lol.

plant mom includes 11 items. one of my all time fave sets, which can be found here, again if you prefer that.

study group includes 14 items now, 6 more than the originals.  i've added accessory backpacks for all ages except infant and toddler. and now the deco backpacks can be used as storage if you have ravasheen's 'hoarders simnonymous' mod installed.

switch includes 11 items. everything is basically the same as in the original post. only a few minor touches here and there. i added a thermostat, which requires seasons. and a newly added electrical outlet with safety plugs. all light switches are functional if you have the bathroom clutter kit and littledica's functional light switch override.

~~~

download (always free on patreon)

[lordprettyflackotara]

Hitchhiker || Can’t catch me now (Alternate Ending)

warning: this chapter contains content that some may find offensive and/or triggering. viewer discretion is advised.

Tim must’ve lost his mind if he thought you were going to stay put.

You began to high tail after him, your head throbbing as you chased after him in the snow filled wonderland.

The static began to sound louder, your heart racing as you attempted to keep your eyes centered on one of the men you loved.

In a flash Jack jumped out in front of you, seemingly appearing from no where. The flash of sapphire blue scared you, causing you to jump in surprise. His tall and intimidating figure caused you to freeze in place, losing sight of Tim. “Get out of my way Jack,” You hissed. Jack’s emotionless mask stared back at you, the demon staring down at you. “You can’t go, you can’t go with them,” He said firmly. His voice was low and feral, a metallic scent reeking off of his clothing. You audibly scoffed, attempting to go around him. He grabbed your arm, forcing you back into your original place.

“I don’t know who you think you are but you can go to hell if you think i’m not going after them.”

“You need to listen to me you can’t go.”

“And why the hell not?!”

Jack’s silence made you unsettled, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed. “You’re with child,” He whispered. Your heart plummeted, before you shook off the freaky feeling. “Really? Yeah fuckin right. Next time you lie come up with a better one,” You snapped. You attempted to move again, Jacks grip on your arm firm. “Might I remind you that you’ve consistently had unprotected intercourse over the past year with three different men?” Jack questioned. He tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he was studying you. “Is now the time for you to seriously try to slut shame me?” You spat, your words laced with venom. Meanwhile if Jack had eyes he would’ve rolled them so far back he would’ve seen the back of his head. “Humans and your purity standards. No I am not. I’m simply reminding you that your activities can result in creation of life,” Jack said.

You blinked, your lips parting in shock. “As if any of that matters, I can smell it,” He whispered. You frowned, your eyebrows furrowing. “The fetus, I can smell the fetus,” Jack clarified. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms defensively. “You cannot be serious. This is some freaky fortune teller shit,” You argued. Jack released your arm, confident you’d stay in place. “Your scent changes once the fetus starts forming. It’s very noticeable. There just hasn’t been an appropriate time to tell you,” Jack explained. You dropped your arms, the realization that he was serious crashing over you. “D-do you know whose it is?” You asked. You felt breathless, your gaze falling to your stomach. You were pregnant with a proxies child. “My nose isn’t mystical you know. But I will tell you one thing. The Operator will carve that fetus out of you if he knows it exist,” Jack said.

Your hands instinctively fell to your stomach, Brian’s scream echoing in the distance. You looked past Jack, the demon grabbing your shoulders. “Y/n focus. This fairytail we’ve been living in is over. Nova is dead. If you want the fetus to survive you’re going to have to run,” Jack said. You felt tears flood your waterline, your stomach churning. “H-how did you know Nova’s dead?” You whispered, your voice low. Jack shook your shoulders, forcing you to focus. “Now’s not the time for that. Listen to me. I fixed my truck, it’s back at the cabin. Take it and run. There’s a duffel bag full of cash in the backseat,” He urged. You blinked away your free falling tears, looking behind Jack as a flash of color flew by. You gasped at the sight of your lovers fighting The Operator, blood splattered all over the white snow around them. “But Jack I love them. I-I can’t,” You whispered, defeated. Jack’s large hands kept you locked into place, his determination to keep you safe fueling his veins.

“Don’t you understand? Your survival was always apart of the plan. I need you to think now. Think about the fetus. You’ll always have apart of them with you,” Jack said urgently, becoming more alarmed at The Operator moving closer. The static was almost overbearing, your shaky hands gripping Jacks hoodie. “I never got a chance to tell them I love them. Any of them,” You cried. For a brief moment Jack felt compassion, his next words laced with a foreign sense of care, “They know. Trust me when I tell you they know.”

“Do they know about the baby? It-” You began, Toby’s body colliding with a nearby tree causing you to stop mid sentence. Jack shook you again, regaining your focus. “No they don’t and they never will. But if you stay here there won’t be a fetus or a you. Go!” Jack commanded. You gave Jack a sad smile, your face becoming red and puffy from the sorrow that consumed you.

“Thank you Jack.”

Those were the last words you ever uttered in the presence of the proxies, dashing off into the night.

\/

The proxies knew what was coming. Each of them wanted to believe they’d be able to fight The Operator off if they all worked together. They wanted to believe that there was another chance for their lives. That their destiny wasn’t to be a proxy.

Unfortunately for them, they were wrong. Your love had blind sided them into believing in hope. Believing in a better tomorrow. But there wasn’t one. They had constructed this plan with Jack from the beginning. The ultimate goal to keep you alive despite any and all odds. Nova wasn’t in that equation. They weren’t in that equation. Any lives besides yours didn’t matter. If Jack was anything, he was a man of his word. Truthfully he had grown fond of you, sparing your life after everything you had been through seemed like the least he could do. He was truthful when he informed you that the proxies didn’t know about the child. Jack figured that if they did they’d be tempted to try to find you. And if they did, The Operator would abolish you and the child.

Either that or he’d consider the hybrid too useful to dispose of. Jack’s deal with The Operator was simple. One that you wouldn’t have dreamed of. He’d inform the proxies of your death. He’d tell them that The Operator slaughtered you. Jack had been busy creating a make believe death scene, deer blood splattered all over the fallen snow and dead trees. The sight of this along with Jack’s silver spoon fed lies was enough to lead them to believe. Despite The Operator’s vengeful ways that lurked in his sadistic tendencies, Jack knew that he’d have no proxies at all unless he let you go and played along. So The Operator did, his friendship with Jack one he had grown quite fond of. Your death would result in his proxies behaving again, after some routine torture of course. As long as they believed you were dead, Jack knew you were safe.

Your burial sight was beside Nova’s, buried behind The Operator’s mansion of horrors. The other creeps didn’t ask questions about the graves, Jack’s endless gaze centered on Nova’s. Jack knew of Nova’s death the moment it happened, her exposed organs the sweet scent that had ever crossed his nostrils. It was devastating to him. Upon reviewing his body he knew what had happened to her, the whites of her eyes letting him know right away she had been transformed into a proxy. Jack enjoyed slaughtering the deer for the creation of your faked death. The demon was only able to gather himself to get you out of there alive, Nova’s voice nagging at him in the back of his mind. Your survival was the only thing she would’ve wanted. Jack was used to swimming in despair and loneliness, Nova’s death one he anticipated for. A cannibalistic demon like him didnt deserve a happy ending. Jack had learned to bury his emotions but he couldn’t help but pity the proxies when they each visited your grave.

Toby visited almost daily, talking to you as if you were still there. Your death along with The Operator’s endless static had led him to believe you actually were. He’d see hallucinations of you sitting on top of your grave, laughing and talking to him. His mind refused to accept your death. You were his only source of serotonin, his one true love. Routinely he’d come outside with a plate full of food, sitting by your grave to eat while the others stayed inside and ate at the table. He was overly protective of your grave, growling and hissing at any creep who dared to come near it.

Brian stopped talking all together. While Toby had become a chatterbox, Brian had refused to talk. Both him and Hoodie kept their thoughts to themselves, the usage of their vocal cords frozen. Years had gone by, his vocal cords giving out and refusing to work from endless silence. The most he would give would be a nod, his eyes full of a sea of sorrow he was drowning in. He consistently decorated your grave, plucking any and all kinds of flowers he could find. Brian began a garden in your memory, planting flowers he deemed to be almost as beautiful as he remembered you to be. Years may have gone by, but he could recall your sweet scent and enchanting features like it was yesterday.

Tim could never get over it. He never got over you. No matter what he did, you were there. Your voice dripping like honey in his ears, your ethereal presence haunting him in his dreams. He continued his life full with regret, regretting leaving you alone in the forest. He regretted not treasuring you more. Most of all, he regretted not letting you know just how much he loved you. Tim would smoke by your grave often, sometimes while the others were there. He would silently sit by your grave, staring down at the dirt. That dirt eventually became over grown grass over the years, and he stared at that too. Sometimes Jack would join him, the demon smoking a cigarette right along with him as they stared at their lovers graves. Little did Tim know, his decision to leave you alone that night saved your life.

It had been years since you had escaped the clutches of The Operator. The Smiths quietly played through the ancient stereo, the same song playing the night you had met your proxies. You sat in the front seat of Jack’s truck, cruising down a small dirt road to get home. You tugged at Masky’s jacket, tugging it tighter around your chest. The heater in the old truck was broken, the cool autumn air threatening to slip inside. Beside you was a small girl, one curled up in a ball as he slept soundly in one of Jacks hoodies. The demon kept in touch often, claiming he was ensuring his truck was still up and running. You knew he felt an obligation to watch over you and your daughter. The girls chocolate eyes were fluttered shut, soundly asleep as you drove home after a late night gas station run for slurpees.

You still had nightmares of The Operator ever so often, but not as frequent as time went on. You constantly wondered about them. Tim, Masky, Brian, Hoodie, and Toby always lurking in the back of your mind. Your daughter favored them all in different ways. Toby’s energy, Brian’s sarcasm, Tim’s compassion and loyalty. Each time you looked into his brown eyes you always saw a glimpse of them. A glimpse of the three men you loved. It wasn’t easy, trying to move on from them. You knew you’d never have other lover. Jack ensured you were supported, always providing you with cash. You worked from home as a writer, your daughter, Nova Wright, explored the woods nearby. She was always under the watchful eye of EJ, who preferred to be a guardian angel of sorts. Your cabin was furnished and cozy, reminding you of the months you spent with the proxies. The cabin was secluded, deep in the woods where no one would ever be able to find you or Nova. She was the only existence you had that the proxies were real. The only proof that your love for them was infinite.

You hummed along to the song, reminiscing on your most fondest memories.

Knowing your hitchhikers was temporary, but your love for them was eternal.

[megachiraztfs]

Story index

Here you can find a list of my transformations series and other stories with a short summary of what they are about. If you’re curious about one and want more details or want to participate in one, just write me! I'll do my best to keep this list up to date!

Single stories

Family: A story about a poor young man living on the streets who was given a new life by fate.

Unworthy: A story about a young man who couldn't fulfill his family's exspectations and had to pay a price.

Stories from the Grave: A story about why you shouldn't listen to every voice on old graveyards.

The heir of Milton: This is a story about a faithful butler of an old English family who had earned a special promotion.

Forever Together: Being with an immortal warlock made Alec think about his own aging and how he could stop that (Fandom: Shadowhunters).

For each other: Sequel to Forever Together. Mag and Alec get a new addition to their new lifes.

Going To Hell: Robin Hood, Kilian Jones and Prince Charming start a life-changing trip to hell with some monstrous changes.

Becoming a family: This is a story about Harry Potter and his four best friends as they actually become his family (Fandom: Harry Potter).

A preference for Bolts: This is a story about a young man in Scandinavia being blessed by a certain northern god (Fandom: Marvel).

Welcom Home: This is a story about grief and the use of magic to ease that pain for Magnus Bane (Fandom: Shadowhunters).

Watch Out: This is a story about two friends who shouldn't have put on the stuff of two missing guys...

Cold As Ice: This is a story about a cloak that makes his wearer non only loose his emotions (Fandom: Harry Potter).

Love Again: This is a story about a young man who lost everything, but find the love he longed for (Fandom: Harry Potter).

Duty: This is a story about a young man getting a little bit too much into his fantasies about his favourite character (Fandom: Guild Wars 2).

Creation of Friendship: This is a story about a misunderstanding that lead to a brand new and quite thick friendship.

Spin Around: A demon's work can be quite... changing (Fandom: Supernatural).

Reuinited Love: This is a story about a forbidden love that even conquers death.

A New Prince: This is a story about Merlin and Arthur Pendragon with a magical twist (Fandom: Merlin).

New Position: For the first Harry cannot play as a seeker - and needs help for getting ready for a entirely new position (Fandom: Harry Potter).

Filling the Gap: This is a story about two best friends who would've better stay away from a magical crime scene (Fandom: Harry Potter).

Deserved: This is a story about an unlucky guy who gets dumped by his boyfriend.

Spicy Pies: This is a story about a man, lending a helping hand to an old neighbour and is rewarded for his kindness.

Twice the Thunder: This is a story about two roommates without a costumes on Halloween - beware: if you're late, you might feel the consequences (Fandom: Marvel).

The Pumpkin Field: Beware of the magical pumpkins, dear friend - they could be after you! (Fandom: Harry Potter)

Tombola: Original props are the best gift for a fan - they always go deep under your skin! (Fandom: Once Upon a Time)

Push the Buttons: Some games are made to be an experience (Fandom: Assassin's Creed)

Wishes, requests, exchanges

Life-Changing Game for soul-controller: A story about a caught-up college experience in the digital age. Let the game begin!

Learning some manners for an anonymous requester: A story about a macho man who has to learn that not everything always goes his way. With a touch of magic. Dimensional travel. And elves!

Beware of the mirror for musclebishop: As you may know, the Magic Mirror is able to grant wishes. Even those you don’t know. But don’t be rude. Sometimes even the changes are changing.

Beer Up for mcbrute: Zoro (One Piece) has lost his way again and has been invited to the jock pirates’ ship. It’s not just the beer that’s special there.

Green On Birthdays for jungwoosong: Carl really leaves no stone unturned to convince his best friend Noah to watch his favourite anime, One Piece. But it’s only with a birthday present that things get moving.

A New Look for a user on Furaffinity: What started as a pity purchase at a festival out of niceness turned out to be extremely life-changing for Nat.

The Found Jacket for a user on Furaffinity: Timothy just wanted to buy a small ball for his brother, but instead of a stall, found only a stray red jacket.

Old Rivalery for thegeneralguy: Despite unwillingness, a visit to the gym began quite differently than expected - with a very special, haunted prize from a bygone era.

The Risk of Curiosity for itsrainingdilfs: Basic rule: Don’t read out funny-sounding words from old books. You might have company sooner than you’d like.

No More Stress for transformee: In the attic of an inherited house, you can probably find some special things when cleaning up. Even a hidden old mirror.

Good old Australia for changingmen: As a reward for a good deed, a young man is given a little something from the homeland of the man he has helped. With the prospect of a beefy future.

Magnissimus for malebodyandshoeswaps: On the way to his graduation ceremony, a young man’s shoes are destroyed in a chemical accident. But with the replacement pair, he takes his first step into his new phase of life.

Happy birthday for writer-ofstuff: Stiles’ (Teen Wolf) birthday preparations for his steady boyfriend Derek are not going really well. But whether the help from his book was really the right thing to do?

Secret Santa Lottery for bizzhideaway (great story exchange 2020): After Brody had taken part in a Christmas lottery and the notification of the winnings failed to arrive, his winnings were able to surprise him in every way.

Through Your Veins for begon1: If Batman only saw that this was a trap.

Confidence for

TF Captions

A New Curse Part One and Part Two

Freckles

Back to your roots

Boring

Ho, ho, ho!

Buddies

Special Blanket

Himbo Hemispheres

Temple of Amor

Tempting Tapestry

Rental Conditions

What about Green?

Well-minded spirit

Something in the water

Smile

The wrong souvenir

Kinda poisoned

The perfect example

Special Edition

New clothes, new man

Shortage of staff

Electric

By the lake

Smell Like a Hero

For Transformation series click here!

[extra-vertebrae]

General interpretation of the overall sequence of events for ER and SOTE after completing the DLC and ruminating over the lore and flavour texts, plus thoughts on the ending itself:

Marika is born in what will become the Lands of Shadow, potentially underground as a budding Swordhand of Night. She has a predisposition for violence / war.

Marika receives communion from the Greater Will at some point, she enacts some kind of "original sin" under its guidance, creating Order where there was previously none (an item flavour text suggests this but I can't find the item in my inventory to double check - I don't recall what item it is) by sheering the land in two. Violence of some level is implied from the story trailer and Marika's role as a God of Death (her Rune is the Rune of Death). It is implied that her basal / original sin is the desire to do harm / creation of a tiered, forced "order" where none was needed. She ascends to the Divinity Gate and becomes the Greater Will's vessel.

The Crucible and the land itself is split apart, creating the Erdtree and Scadutree (full speculation on this, I'm guessing whole cloth), and the Lands Between and Lands of Shadow.

The Lands of Shadow become a realm of the dead / the shoreline for all things that die in the Lands Between. Everything that dies a true death will eventually go there. (Speculation, based on crypts and Godwyn's presence)

Some Swordhands of Night follow Marika to the Lands Between, they become the Numen. They conspire to make their own Lord, and are punished by the Greater Will via the destruction of their silver city by Astel. This breeds resentment within the Numen.

Marika meets Godfrey and wages war across the Lands Between.

At some point Marika starts having children.

Taking Great Rune placement as an indicator, Morgott and Mohg are born first, they are "cursed" by the Crucible, a sign of Marika's hornsent blood and / or Godfrey's own proximity to the Crucible. They are thrown away as symbols / reminders of what Marika has done / under rule of law of the Greater Will that she helped create. Godwyn is likely born second.

Messmer is born before Radagon's brood (Gaius's Remembrance claims both himself and Messmer were "as elder brothers" to Radahn). He is also cursed, the "base serpent" lives within him, the serpent may be a manifestation / representation of Marika's violence / destructive nature. He has visions of the ultimate end of Marika's reign: destruction of everything she has built. RE: a God of Death cannot create and maintain creation, it can only forestall the inevitable conclusion of its own existence: death.

It could very well be that Marika's sin is the attempt to control the natural way of the world - forcing order and sealing death.

Marika sends Messmer on a crusade into the Lands of Shadow to both hide him and the base serpent, and to maybe wipe the remnants of her past and evidence of the sin she enacted from history entirely.

From here shit gets muddy (moreso than it already is). It's clear that all of the fucked up customs seen in the Lands Between originate from the Land of Shadow. Marika brought with her to the Lands Between the customs of creating warrior jars, the use of barbs in denoting sin / blasphemy, and the translation of that barb into the Arc seen in crucifixion throughout the main game, as well as other things.

The presence of Metyr suggests that the original form of the Lands Between / Land of Shadow was already abandoned by the Greater Will in some capacity until it, presumably, saw a tool worth using in Marika. Mariks splits the original world into what it is, the Greater Will hopes to mould the Lands Between into what it divines as order and sends multiple Two Fingers to help guide this moulding to its desires, creating a new faith in a new world. This splitting could be considered as the "mistake" the Greater Will made as referred to by the Frenzied Three Fingers - the Greater Will divided and distinguished.

I would argue that the Greater Will is a "god" only in the sense of its powers are beyond human comprehension, and is therefor interpreted as divine. The Greater Will meddled in the lives of creatures inferior to it for its own gains - it desires a specific fate. It, like Astel and Metyr, is a creature "of the stars".

For Ranni, my overall interpretation is that her upbringing as a member of the Academy / a watcher of the stars is what nurtures what becomes resentment in becoming an Empyrean. It probably doesn't help that her brother, Radahn, seizes the stars in the night sky, preventing those who follow the stars to divine their own fate from them. To this end, Radahn is likely considered her enemy. The imposing of the Greater Will spurs Ranni to conspire with the spurned Numen, and she orchestrates the Night of the Black Knives.

Afterwards, the Elden Ring is shattered by Marika and given to her present surviving children (Messmer has no Great Rune, he is hidden away in the Lands of Shadow at this time, he has been abandoned by Marika). None can establish order.

Miquella is a madman in the same vein as his mother. Where he specifically fits in this in terms of a timeline I'm not sure, but regardless, he is not what he believes or presents himself as to others. Miquella is a manipulator as Marika was, his aims are merely "different". In order to achieve what he wants, he bewitches those around him to do his bidding without consideration for their individuality / who they really are or what they want. His entire operation is doomed to fail from the start, because Miquella is stuck within his own head, and he is surrounded by enablers (that he creates).

Personally, I find the choice of Radahn as his King Consort to be ???. There is nothing in the base game that suggests this as a thing in the barest sense. Out of anyone else in the family, I would have assumed Godwyn, because it is suggested via the Eclipse Shotel and Castle Sol that Miquella tries to "right" Godwyn's death, and Godwyn's corpse is all over the Lands of Shadow already - he has an established presence, Radahn does not. Godwyn and Miquella were evidently close and why he wouldn't choose Godwyn as King Consort is honestly a mystery to me. I did, however, break all of the NPC quests thanks to doing the Shadow Keep backwards - RE: I lost track of Ansbach entirely and that scuttled my entire playthrough. If there is some kind of additional context for why this "vow" is made with Radahn, I haven't seen it yet.

Anyway - those are my thoughts so far. SOTE's ending was... shit, honestly, worse than the basic bitch endings base ER has. That "memory" as a reward for getting through the DLC feels awful, legitimately, very "that's it? For all of that?" I don't like this new precedent that FromSoft is setting with these low effort, unfulfilling endings after massive player undertakings. None of the earlier games had this issue. The reward does not compensate the effort. The final boss and ending soured what was otherwise a really, really, really good buildup. The final boss has a lot of bullshit going on, primarily in being utterly unable to see what the fuck is happening. I lost more times to being blinded and unable to see what the boss was doing moreso than anything else. I have other thoughts regarding the boss, but overall, I hated that fight. It wasn't fun, and it was made all the worse with the ending being so feeble and slapdash, and the reward item being... fucking nothing, essentially. Neither were worth the effort. This might be a boss I never fight again out of sheer lack of enjoyment.

[planetformer-central]

New Oc because I have no self control! This is Null, based heavily off Bioshock's Big Daddies, he's my newest creation and I already love him.

Lore and rant below the cut.

Null was forged an Outlier. His unique ability? The nullification of other Outlier abilities when they are within a certain radius. However, this power has not been without consequence. His spark produces his nullification field by producing a severe excess of energy. This doesn't hurt him in the slightest since the energy seeps right out of him as he goes about his business. But for those around him? Their sparks can desynchronize or otherwise become unstable due to the influx of outside power. Interacting with him can cause sickness for normal Cybertronians and even death through prolonged exposure.

For these reasons, the Council took him when he was still very young and melded him with a suit they created for him. The suit is now as much a part of him as his original frame and it takes all his excess power and stores it within the canisters on his back while keeping him from remaining a walking biohazard. With his suit, he can control how much power he exerts and when he does so. Additionally, he can turn his excess energy into fuel for his inbuilt blasters, powerful weapons that are practically military grade. The cost of this is that he is incapable of interacting with the world normally and occasionally has aggressive fits due to being unable to project his excess energy normally. He desperately needs time outside of his suit, but he is forbidden to exit the armor, and so has largely dealt with his bursts of aggression by taking it out on anyone who looks at his wards wrong.

He had the Council on his side to give him free reign to do as he pleases so long as he fulfills his function.

To make use of him, Null was made into the Outlier Overseer. His entire function is to watch over Outliers, specifically the young ones, and keep their powers under control. They do not suffer from the usual side effects of his ability due to their similar level of oddity and instead find him soothing to be around since they naturally absorb the power he emits without issue. Null has been shadow played to be obsessed with his role, so much that he does not care for any faction. His only function is protecting Outliers. While intelligent and fully aware, he is so dogged in his duty that he can and will fall into bouts of what could be considered insanity when on a mission. The younger the Outlier, the more protective he will be.

Surprisingly, he does not mind in the slightest when his wards decide to leave of their own free will. He only acts when they are taken from him forcefully.

With that said, He can and will go on murderous rampages against anyone and everyone who tries to harm an Outlier. This has led to many sticky situations where, with the rise of the war, Null has found himself protecting Autobot and Decepticon alike. He refuses to take a badge, instead wandering in order to better care for his wards and keep them safe from harm. Even still, there have been several occasions where he has protected Tarn from a few stray missiles, Soundwave from a reign of bullets, and strangely enough, Prowl, from oncoming enemies.

(His care for Prowl raised many MANY questions. To this day, the Autobots chalk Null's behavior up to assuming Prowl's processor augments were the work of an Outlier ability.)

Null wears an Autobot badge, but kind sparks on both sides of the war have helped him with repairs he cannot do himself from time to time. They know he is a victim of the Council, and so long as he is left alone, he is a peaceful being. The only times factions have actively made use of him where during the final years of the war while it remained on Cybertron. The Decepticons lured Null in with an Outlier and actively placed the Outlier in front of an incoming Autobot assault. Null was quick to protect who he saw as his charge.

He fought well, but was overwhelmed. His injuries were severe, but the Autobots had no desire to kill him, and so placed him in stasis. He has only awoken again now that the war is over, and he is trying to return to his role in a healthier manner with the help of medical professionals and quite a bit of aid from what little data Shockwave left behind.

He's really quite a softie, albeit very very cautious of his proximity to others. Well of course, right up until someone touches one of his wards.

[puppet-strung-moon]

[Canon Event: initiated] [If anyone else wants to join in ask in chat]

The footsteps stopped in front of her nook. They lifted themself up as to not make a single sound, putting Dusk in a hiding spot to keep them safe; they weren’t going to lose their first pet in decades along with their friends. They straightened up, fixed their hair and cap, took a deep breath before opening the door. They look up at a being larger than them, the being looks down at them, its giant eye staring at her. “Puppeteer 3-06! How delightful to find you again after all this time, you’ve been busy haven’t you? Dressing up as a jester now, oh you were always the playful creative one.” They reminded silent as they glare at the larger being “No hello? Well now Puppeteer 3-06, you’ve had your fun now it’s time to return to your original purpose-“ “No. I will not.” The larger of the two blinks for a moment before laughing “Oh 3-06 you’re such a card! Now come on-“ “Still dense as ever. I said NO. I am. For the first time in my existence. Happy, not because I am forced to be but because I genuinely get to feel it” the larger being clicked their tongue; suddenly a sharp pain shoots through her body and she lets out a harrowing scream. “You’re going to be a good little puppeteer. I cannot have you running around Willy Nilly creating universe the way you do. You’re job is to puppet, control, and manipulate people, keep them on the path the universe chose” they mutter something hoarsely “What was that my dear?” She looks up her right eye glowing a burning purple “I said GO FUCK YOURSELF” The larger being gasps “Oh dear! Who taught you such manners! Well to get rid of them first, can’t have such a naughty influence like that”

Marionette Moon glared at them as its eye crescents to convey a smile “Bloodmoon…vile little creatures and they have a little helper also under their vile influence. They’re your problem 3-06. You take them out” “NEVER YOU OLD HAG!” the larger being chuckles “That wasn’t a request. It’s an Order.” Another painful shock. All is quiet until they look up with a yellow glint in their right “I will go Grandmaster Giaterra. Once I have dealt with Bloodmoon and their caravan of misfits. I will continue my original path I had strayed from” the larger being smiles with their eye and chuckles “You have your orders. Now go my creation”

……

Marionette Moon arrives at the cabin of Bloodmoon. She fights the control one last time to simply tell all her friends and acquaintances “Be prepared my friends. Keep each other safe. And remember. If you see Yellow Strings…RUN.” Then she lost to the control of the Grandmaster and knocks politely on the door. “Elara? Grim and Reaper? Are you home?”

[ @escapetheslaughter or @animatronic-assistant can go first)

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Warning! Gentle reminder about my previous warnings y’all. This part is heavy handed on the violence and mentions of blood. Also, very brief mention/implication of suicide (not any of our MC’s).

~

Part 17- Vengeance

The feast was almost over and Xi was running out of time. She had run through every possible scenario in her mind on how to get out of what was to come…what Su’ko had planned for her.

Eywa.

Help me.

She stared out at a sea of pity, losing count of how many Na’vi were scattered about the cave. Li’ona had always been a massive clan, and while they were far fewer in numbers now, there was still a shocking mass.

Whatever RDA base or ship the Li’ona people had scavenged was evident. There was a plethora of human made objects dispersed all over the large cave. Everything from rusting ship parts, to vehicle seats- their padding spilling out from its torn upholstery to even those tiny, bright coloured sticks the humans used to clean their teeth.

In her peripheral, the glint of Su’ko’s staff caught her attention. It had a sharp pointed blade which she was sure could pierce skin easily…if she could just reach it.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ her mind mocked, ‘you wouldn’t make it very far…even if you killed him.’

A frantic shout for help interrupted her thoughts. The distressed form of a man appeared, hysterically yelling about his dying father and Xi recognized him from his cloak.

He had been one of the men who’d accompanied Su’ko- one of his rouge warrior's who’d held her down as they forced her to watch her father be strung up.

Xilä observed that most of the clan merely blinked in his direction, almost as if it were a usual occurrence.

Was no one going to help his father?

Did they have no healer?

When no one came forth, she grabbed her chance. “I can help! Let me help, I am a healer!”

Well...as good as one.

All eyes landed on her, and Xilä held her breath as she waited for Su’ko give his permission. Instead, he fisted her hair painfully, titling her to face his menacing glare.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I-” she licked her lips nervously, “but I can help.”

“Su’ko…chief, please,” the man begged.

Su’ko’s gaze darted around at his clan, they were all watching in interest now, waiting for his response. Relenting, the Li’ona leader released her with an annoyed nudge.

“Go,” he ordered, tossing the end of the chain for the man to lead her away.

Deep into the cave and far from the rest of the clan, she followed when he entered an alcove. It was warm and reeked of stale sweat and urine. The rattling of the rusty chain around her ankle pierced the quiet of the dim space and Xi wondered for a split second if she’d been led into a trap.

Peering through the darkness, it took her a moment to make out a shifting lump on the ground. Said lump made her jump when it suddenly gave a loud, wheezing cough.

Rough hands dragged and pushed Xi to her knees, barking, “Do something! He’s dying!”

Xilä shot the man a foul glare over her shoulder. “My hands are still bound! I cannot work like this.”

He hesitated, but then the sound of another cough made him quickly cut the ties off her wrists.

As she rubbed the raw skin uncomfortably, she said, “I need light, water, and medicine if you have. There was supposed to be some in the sack that-”

“I’ll get it,” he snapped before dashing off, pulling the length of the long chain with him which rattled rather loudly before it tapered off, making her hastily extend her leg so she didn’t go lurching behind wherever it disappeared to.

Once the chain stopped, she shifted onto her knees and waited until another round of hacking from the ill figure ended. “Hello,” she tried.

“H’mdell, leave me.” The voice was harsh, hoarse and drenched in age.

“He- he’s gone to get a few things…I’m Xilä, I’m here to help. Do you mind- can I check your vitals? I’m a healer,” she whispered as calmly as possible.

“Xilä…I don’t know any Xi- wait…Muiä’s girl? Is that you?”

At his question she shuffled closer, wincing at the twinge in her ankle. “Yes,” she replied shakily. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Bah. I am fine. Only dying a slow and painful death. Why are you-” he broke off into another fit.

Xi pursed her lips when the elder’s breath quickened. Her brow furrowed when she took note of sweat glossing his heavily aged face yet he was swamped with what looked like three layers of worn leathers.

She reached out and pressed two fingers against the flat of his wrist, sharply inhaling when she felt his ice cold skin and faint beating pulse.

“When was the last time you ate or drank anything?”

H’mdell entered just then, bathing the room in warm light with a flame he secured into the rocky wall. He grunted a garble of words as he tossed a hefty medium sized sack at her. It was a mess of random herbs, tonics and instruments her father had stolen from the Omaticaya.

With the light, Xi swallowed her horror at the clear sight of the face staring back at her. The elder was gaunt, skeletal-like to be exact.

“He needs food, and clean, drinkable water. When was the last time he had anything?” she asked his son as she siphoned through the cloth bag, hoping it held what she needed.

“Not for days, he refuses- the stubborn fool,” the man replied with a pointed glare at his coughing father. “Do something already!” he bellowed at her, causing her to flinch and drop the container of powdered kyntser she’d been holding when he raised a threatening hand.

“H’mdell,” the elder rasped, “leave us. Su’ko will not be happy if you are late for your watch again. You know what happened the last time,” he said with a weak nod to the man’s left hand.

Xilä bit her cheek when she saw two missing fingers- only a thumb and index finger was left.

H’mdell simply grunted in response. Taking hold of the end of her shackle, he wedged it tight around an odd heavy scrap of metal that looked to be part of a machine. “Fix him. I’ll kill you if you don’t,” he threatened before finally leaving for his watch duty.

Waiting a few breaths, Xilä moved slowly as she tended to the elder who she learned was called Askadu.

Contrary to growing up in the deadlands, Xi had never really been given the freedom to roam the clan. Being overly sheltered, it was her first time actually seeing most of the unnamed faces.

The quiet and distance from the rest of the clan- distance from Su’ko specifically, gave her time to think, to plan.

Askadu stared at her the entire time, calculating gaze never leaving her face as she poked and prodded his ribs and stomach, ear pressing against his bony chest before she began to meticulously combine ingredients into a mortar and pestle.

“Why have you returned?” he eventually asked, surprising her.

“I have not returned,” she snapped, “I was taken from my home…against my will.”

“And just where is this home of yours?” he snarked. “Save the bruises, you look well kept. Sunkissed skin if I ever did see…no longer flesh and bone like the lot of us,” he commented, appraising her choice of clothing- or lack of, through cloudy gray eyes.

“The Omaticaya took me in. They are home.”

“The Omaticaya? Have you come from the Blue Flute clan then? The legendary Toruk Makto’s?”

“Yes,” she replied, pausing her stirring to frown at his genuine surprise and need of this information.

“That is not what Su’ko told us,” he muttered to himself faintly, but she heard it all the same.

Interesting.

They both fell quiet again, lost in their own thoughts as she continued to fret over him, giving him a slew of ill tasting remedies, then cleansing and treating his open bed sores as best as possible.

“What is it like?” he asked. “The forest.”

She pondered for a second before responding, smiling in memory. “It’s beautiful, something from a dream…The forest, it’s always alive, it glows, thrives and there’s forever something new to discover. I've lived there for some time now, but... I don’t think I’d ever get used to how wonderful it is”

“Hm.”

“Askadu,” she started, encouraged by his question to ask her own, “what happened to these lands? Why has Eywa forsaken Li’ona? You must know for sure. I heard it was once a place that all other clans would envy.”

The elder gave a dry laugh that ended in a fit of hacks and heaves. “Oh it was. It was,” he said as if remembering. “One could only assume my dear. I’m sure you’ve heard the theories. I’d gander it was greed and hate that brought us here, however.”

“How so?”

“Corruption,” he said ominously. “We once had all we could ever want…but then a drought came, far worse than any we’d ever encountered before. Instead of planning and conserving, we wasted…hoarded, took it all for granted by being selfish and unkind to our own. And when the lands became sparse, the evil awoke.”

“Evil?”

He fixed Xilä with a meaningful glare. “Hunger and thirst can turn any soul into an unrecognizable beast… beasts so wicked they no longer care, they no longer feel… they no longer exist… We can guess all we’d like, play the victims to make ourselves feel better, but it is no great secret why the Great Mother truly deserted us…We were our own undoing.”

Askadu breathed heavily and Xi wondered when was the last time he spoke this much, she offered him another sip of the slosh his son had brought.

It took everything within her to not rush this, to not make it obvious what she was doing, but she needed to gain his trust, and fast.

“Tell me child, has Eywa led you here to be part of our end? I can sense that our time here has run its course. You are here to join us then?”

A shudder ran up her spine at his chilling words. She shook her head slowly, grip loose on the cloth she’d been dabbing to his skin. “Eywa has nothing to do with me being here. I was taken against my will, remember? My father,” she sucked a breath, “he made a deal with your leader. And now Su’ko says he will claim me.”

“Ahhh, does he? And does he know you are already taken by an Omaticaya bastard?” he pondered in amusement, weak fingers lifting to flick at the chord of beads in her hair she’d been fidgeting with every now and again- Neteyam’s gifted beads precisely.

“Hmmm. You are tainted, but I suppose he wouldn’t care though, no? Gone were the days when one whore was enough for a man. Loyalty holds no meaning here anymore.”

Ignoring his vile words, Xilä couldn’t wait any longer. She was ready to strike, ready to put her plans in place.

With a glance behind her to make sure they were truly alone, she softened her voice, “You clearly don’t agree with the way he is doing things then. Help me, Askadu. Please.”

Askadu laughed. “Afraid you will end up like the rest then?”

“What do you mean? There were others? What happened to them?”

"They are dead," he replied nonchalantly, "Su'ko can be a...brutal lover."

Xi swallowed a wave of nausea. "Then help me."

Askadu turned angry. "I am afraid there is nothing I can do- and do not be fooled girl, I am no better than the animals out there. I will not fight for you- couldn’t even if I tried. I have already accepted my fate.. Maybe it's time you do too.”

“No. No I refuse to give up. And I don't need you to fight for me, no that's not what I'm asking. It's something else…please. Don't you want the last thing you do in this world to be something good? Help me, Askadu."

A stifling silence gave way for the grunts and hoots echoing through the walls of the cave.

“Tell me something, your mate, he is… what? A warrior?”

Xi frowned but answered all the same. “Yes. One of the greatest. He is the clan’s future Olo'eyktan,” she said proudly.

Askadu froze in shock before schooling his features. “Kin of Turok Makto… My my, see how you’ve risen,” he mocked. “He will be coming for you then? I can’t imagine having you taken away from your mate sits well with him- with the clan. How sure are you of this?”

Thumb and forefinger pressing into her beads for good measure, she nodded. “I’m sure. He’s coming, my husband is coming.” She knew it in her heart, there was no doubt.

“Very well. If I were to...help you," he bit out as if he'd eaten something vile, "I want something in return.”

Xilä’s relief was prominent. “Yes, of course. What would you like?”

He nudged his head to the medical sack. “Give me something strong to take, something that will do the trick quickly.”

Not understanding, Xi merely blinked at the bag.

Askadu rolled his eyes. “Your mate is coming for you, Xilä. Do you think he will simply walk in alone and take you without a fight? When the time comes, I will die on my own terms. So I’ll say it again. Give. Me. Something. Strong.”

~

A deep moan escaped Neteyam. “Fucking hell,” he murmured against Xi’s lips.

She giggled at his reaction, grin wide and proud. “Was that good?” she asked. “Yeeeah that was good,” she teased with a smirk, seeing his heated gaze, “I’m getting better at this kissing thing, I think.”

“Now who’s getting cocky?” he laughed in response, ducking down to suck her bottom lip into his mouth.

Her thighs squeezed his sides in response when he properly claimed her lips again, unable to help himself as his palms caressed as much free skin as they could without crossing that very thin line of inappropriateness.

Xilä, the greedy little thing, whined when he teased her in return by keeping his lips purposely closed. She bit his bottom lip in impatience, allowing for their tongues to dance passionately.

But then he was taking charge from her once more.

Neteyam tasted.

Inhaled.

Devoured.

She gave and he took.

They kissed until they were both bursting and lightheaded. Breaking apart, his lips trailed across her jawline and down the arch of her neck, desperate to stay close- addicted.

Since they’d recently started this dangerous game, it was getting increasingly difficult to stop each time.

He sucked at her pulse point, a spot he’d quickly come to realize was overly sensitive and prone to produce the most intoxicating sounds from her lips if he worked it just right.

Encouraged by her wanton moan, he did it again, and again, and again, practically feasting on her sweet smelling skin- tail happily thumping behind him while she gasped and panted as she clung to him.

Neteyam felt drunk off of her returning affections. He loved when her hips would begin to roll on their own, as if seeking more but not knowing what. He loved how her fingers would grip the skin of his back, his nape, his biceps, egging him on with breathy whines and mewls.

Only kissing.

That was the rule he’d set when they’d started this…and of course, he fucking hated it. He knew she did too. He knew that even though she was inexperienced, she was ever eager and always begging for more.

They were both fools though. The only kissing rule was beginning to blur. Hands began to roam further each time, bare skin was tasted and Neteyam, was always painfully rock hard by the end. Hiding it from her was becoming a task of its own nature.

The snap of a twig broke him from his spell, making him dart his head up and around at the forest surrounding them.

“What is it?” she asked, trying to see over his shoulder from their splayed position he'd rolled them to, but unable to since his heavy torso prevented her.

Neteyam listened for a few beats then jerked his chin. “Just a hexapede, over there, see?”

“Oh,” she gasped, “Teyam, it’s the same one we saw a few weeks ago. Look! She had her baby!”

Xi pushed at his chest so she could sit up to better see the knobby legged baby following its mother.

He grumbled, but shuffled out from his spot between her thighs to lean against a thick root of the tree they were lounging under. While she stared in awe at the two creatures, Neteyam took his fill of her. He wished he had a camera to save this moment forever.

She was beautiful, ethereal.

Skin glowing from the illumination around them, she was all soft lines, bright eyes and everything that was good in his entire world.

A sudden rush of overflowing affection that he’d never felt before made his heart leap.

Love…?

Love.

He waited for that thump-thump beat of panic over his realization…but it never came.

And then just as fast as that warmth of feeling showed itself, it was suddenly dampened by reality.

“What?” she asked with a little huff, amused when she’d caught him staring.

‘I love you,’ he thought. ‘But I’m not supposed to…’

“Nothing,” he said instead of the truth, “come here, sweetheart,” he begged quietly and albeit needy- a side of himself he’d never known existed.

‘Damn her.’

Pulling her into his arms with a contented sigh, he nuzzled her cheek and kissed under her jaw affectionately, feather light with hidden meaning, far more intimate than their usual “heated or passion” filled kisses.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her.

For now he’d take what he could get, he’d pretend that there was no deadline- no pressing demand waiting for him to deal with. But fuck if it didn’t hurt to think that he’d have to give her up.

But what if he couldn’t? What if he didn’t want to give her up? He was in love with her…soul wrenchingly in love.

‘Damn her.’

“Don’t make me do any more drills today,” she pouted as she snuggled further into his arms, thighs draped over each of his from when she’d plopped into his lap.

“No?” he chuckled, playing with her hair. “What do you want me to make you do instead then?”

“This, just this right here,” she sighed happily, hugging him around his waist as her cheek made a home on his chest. “Please.”

Another thing that made him secretly happy- she was much more comfortable with initiating physical contact now.

Recently, and on more than one occasion, she’d forgotten they were in public, and while he’d pretend to be upset and mumble under his breath to remind her, he loved when she’d light up at seeing him, loved how she’d plaster herself in his arms or seek him out- just to be close, just to be near him in any way possible.

“Alright, fine. Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her hair while his arms tightened around her in return, “whatever you want.”

Neteyam tried to force himself to reign in his desires but thoughts of “What if” ran wild in his mind.

Maybe he could try to persuade the council to give him more time?

Maybe Xi would say yes if he asked to court her?

Maybe…somehow, someway she’d become his mate, his wife?

Neteyam shook his head, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself, he’d have to figure it all out later.

But for now, out here in their own world... he could pretend that she belonged to him just as much as he belonged to her…

“Son, you should get some sleep. You’re gonna need it,” Jake advised, chasing away Neteyam’s vivid memory.

He pursed his lips beneath the thick leathered mask that hid his face as he heard his father approach. “Dad-”

“Don’t give me that. It’s been days, kid. You haven’t been eating either and it’s got your mother worried sick. You’ll be of no use to Xi if you’re sleep deprived and weak as shit. We’re gearing up to infiltrate these savages tomorrow with no clue what to expect. I suggest you get your ass to camp, eat and get some fucking sleep, because so help me, Neteyam, I will pull rank and not allow out there.”

“Yes, sir,” Neteyam muttered dutifully, reigning in his annoyance yet knowing his father was right all the same.

He tore his gaze away from the vast, crimson tinted horizon he’d been staring at for the last hour and trekked down the stony mound, back to their camp of warriors- tail limp between his legs like a chided kit.

Casted by the shadows of the night, their makeshift shelters were hidden amongst a rocky valley. They were close, and having come such a long way, they’d stop to rest and recover for the night.

By tomorrow, they would finally enter the deadlands. Norm’s trace on the aircraft had died two days ago. He prayed to Eywa that it wasn't a bad sign, but suffice to say, they had a general idea of where they were heading by now.

So much happened in the past couple of days.

They didn’t leave home immediately after their update from Stephan. Strategy meetings were held, weapons and provisions for the journey were assembled, and every seamstress, weaver and capable sewer worked tirelessly to equip all warriors who were about to set out.

And thank Eywa that they had.

The heat had been a surprise to them all of course. They hadn’t even reached the “deadlands” officially per say, but yet a simmering wave had them all scrambling to cloak and cover themselves in protective wear.

Neteyam stared at his own covered feet as he walked. They were a nuisance in his mind, but they were a necessity. Who was he to complain?

His boots were sturdy and well insulated. Sal had made them, having stayed up for almost half a night before she tackled getting Jxo’s done.

And Jxo- well, warrior or not, there was no talking the man out from going with them. Neteyam had never seen his mother-in-law look so fragile when she’d learned this. Sal had hugged him tight and begged him to bring her husband and daughter back in one piece.

Their fleet flew for what felt like an eternity to him- days of travel that had his muscles sore, tired and aching. He glanced at the mess of tangled ikrans some feet away. Buddy and Journey in particular were entwined as they slept, and if it were not for their contrasting colours, Neteyam wouldn’t know where one began and the other ended.

Journey, the poor thing seemed to sense what was wrong. She was a stubborn beast, refusing to stay behind, nipping at his feet and tail until he surrendered and released her from the enclosure he’d been trying to lock her in.

As he forced himself to swallow a couple bites of food and swigs of water, Neteyam peered around at the tired eyes of the men and women so ready to fight by his side.

They were here for him, for Xilä. He had to say something…he needed them to know how much it meant to him.

With a heavy heart Neteyam made his way to the center of their makeshift encampment. He didn’t have to do much or wait too long for all to fall quiet and give their full attention.

“I can not help but feel such gratitude in my heart for each one of you. It's not lost on me, the sacrifices you've all made– leaving behind your families, your comfort and the warmth of your own bed. And for that sacrifice, I want to express my deepest thanks. Your willingness to endure this journey with me, it speaks volumes… My Xilä, my mate. Thank you for helping me get her back home.”

“You’d do it for any one of us,” Tasam called out with a firm nod, arms folded as he stood tall.

“Xilä is Omaticaya. Of course we’d fight to get her back,” W’aote chimed in.

“She is our future Tsahìk!”

“We are with you brother.”

One by one masked faces called out to him. His heart swelled, wishing Xi were here to see. Neytiri approached him where he stood, clasping their hands together as she murmured her own heartwarming words.

Later that night, while most caught some sleep, Neteyam sought out his brother who was one of the few keeping watch.

“Hey,” Lo’ak murmured in greeting, scooching across to allow Neteyam a seat on the high, flat boulder he was perched on.

“Hey.”

“What’s up?”

Neteyam plucked out his lucky dagger to fiddle with. He smirked at its still flower patterned painted handle, he couldn't find it within himself to remove Tuk's artwork.

"I need a favor…a big one," he asked as he twirled the blade skillfully, making flips and spins with practiced ease.

“Yeah, bro. Anything.”

“Dad’s right, we planned as much as we could, but we don’t really know what we're heading into… either way, I know it’s going to be a fight, I don’t expect there’d be no blood shed…” he adjusted the heavy cloak that kept him protected from the heat- it was ridiculously uncomfortable, that and the fucking pants. 

“I’ve made up my mind on how I want this to go down. We’re sticking to the plans in place of course but… I need you to prioritize Xi for me.”

Lo’ak frowned. “Bro-”

“I want you to find her as soon as you can and get her out of there. Keep her safe. If Stephan’s ship is secure when we get there tomorrow, take her there.”

“Neteyam, the plan was that you would-”

“Please, Lo’ak… I need you to do this for me. Just get her as far from that place as possible. No matter what. I need you to promise me.”

Lo’ak swallowed deeply, glowing eyes set on his brother’s hidden profile. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged. “They fucked up. So now they're all going to pay.”

~

A miserable three days had passed before it finally happened.

And oh how it happened.

Between Xilä and Askadu, the whispers were spread throughout the clan- the truth, things they didn’t know, things that had been deliberately kept from them.

It started with a sly comment that earned her a backhand from the person who’d brought her a “meal”, someone’s leftovers consisting of rock-seed beans that had been mashed into a paste.

An underhanded comment to Askadu’s son, a sassy comeback to Vhin who had pulled on her hair hard in retaliation, and the best of best- a tear filled conversion to the cave’s known gossiper, a woman named J'ahki.

Those small seeds of doubt were planted and spread throughout the clan, creating hushed huddles and intense pockets of conversation- tension and anger building amongst the Li’ona people.

They doubted her words at first, which was naturally understandable. But the Na’vi of Li’ona were a demanding folk. They had a code- and sure they treated each other worse than shit, but they believed in their chief- the man who’d fed them lies.

Xi’s plan was simple- create chaos and wait them out. If she couldn’t fight them physically, she’d get them where she knew mattered.

Get them to turn on themselves, or better yet- Su’ko.

She didn’t know exactly how long the journey had been by the aircraft- she’d been unconscious for most of it anyway. She also didn’t know the exact number of days she’d been taken from home- from Neteyam, but she knew how long she’d been in this dreadful cave.

Three days, and now judging by the change of the guard she’d come to memorize, evening had come…evening bringing the third night.

Three days and three nights of miserable, piss poor living conditions and lack of food, water and sleep.

It was the nights that had her worried the most. Xi had refused to close her eyes in fear of anything happening to her while she slept.

Askadu had played his part too in helping her however- not just spreading rumors also. Overplaying his illness when needed so that she could stay at his side during the day was more than she could ask for. She could tell that it irked Su’ko.

The first night she’d been lucky, having the opportunity to care for the elderly man. The second night however, Su’ko had every intention of moving ahead with his plan.

And so, she’d been dragged through the clan kicking and screaming, putting up a hell of a fight until they reached his personal alcove. She scratched the fuck out of his face, kneeing him right in the balls when he'd gotten her pinned.

His roar of pain and anger was deafening when she gained the upper hand by biting down on his ear, holding firm. Xi was feral, she clamped onto the flesh until blood coated her mouth and tip was ripped right off.

When Su'ko had stumbled back, hands cupping his gushing injury, his eyes were wide in disbelief? Shock? Fear? Xi didn't care, she simply stood to her full hight, spat the tip of his ear and a mouthful of blood right at him, stance widening as she readied herself for another round.

Su'ko had gone livid, blade pulled from his hip with every intention to kill her she knew.

But as luck or fate or Eywa would have it, a land quake erupted, rocking and shaking the entire cave with a powerful vengeance. Dust clouded the air and rubble fell from the ceiling as people scrambled in screams of terror.

Xi had been abandoned, still chained and unable to escape even if she wanted to. Instead, she curled into a ball beneath the scrapped sheet of metal she’d been shackled to.

On that night, three of Li’ona’s people died.

When all went calm again, Su’ko had his ear tended to by an overly worried and all too happy to help Vhin. Then, he and many others worked tirelessly at the cave’s entrance, desperately trying to clear away the rocks and rubble that had filled their only way out- trapping them from the outside.

And then came tonight.

The night it all went spiraling.

“SU’KO!”

From what she now called, “her seat” a ledge a few feet above the rest of the clan, but lower than Su’ko’s, a shackled Xilä watched as an angry Na’vi hostilely approached the Li’ona leader who’d just entered the cave.

Xi prayed that her plan had finally worked. She didn’t think she’d be as lucky again tonight since just before he left, Su’ko had threatened to claim her upon his return, then kill her for her actions.

“You’ve been keeping secrets from us, oh mighty leader,” the man snarked sarcastically.

Su’ko and his band of warriors had just returned from their all day hunt, which unsurprisingly, by the look of things, wielded only two measly skinny dirt-vermin.

“I’d watch my tone if I were you, Balynn. What is this about?” Su’ko asked, already on the alert as he noticed the accusatory glares scattered around the cave, some not as obvious while others were blazing in blatancy towards him.

“The girl, Su’ko…Talk is,” he turned and shot her a loathsome glare with a pointed finger, “she’s an Omatikaya’s whore. She’s fucking claimed by Toruk Makto’s boy.”

“Lies!” Su’ko roared, baring fanged teeth as he dropped his kill to step forward.

“She told me so herself,” Vhin chipped in unhelpfully- hip cocked and arms folded, “what does it matter though, Balynn? Su’ko makes the ru-”

“Silence bitch. It matters. All of you. Fools!” he hissed at the leader in particular. “Don’t you know what this means? She is Omatikaya!  Taken… claimed before Eywa. They see her as one of their own.”

By the look on their leader’s face, realization seemed to dawn upon him, he caught what the man was trying to say. Su'ko fiddled with the bandage that was poorly administered to his ear, face morphing into a pained wince before he was masking it again.

Xi thought he was one tough bastard. He hadn't even taken anything for the pain.

“We should just kill her!” someone called out.

“String her up!” another yelled.

“No!” Balynn bellowed. “If you kill her, they’ll kill us all. They have a fucking army! I should know! I fought with them against the wicked ones years ago! They have weapons, demon made weapons! Faster, and far more deadly than an arrow.”

An echoing dread of silence rippled through the cave.

“Give her back,” Balynn seethed, “you have to.”

Su’ko’s jaw ticked- anger clouding his face. “I don’t like the way you’re questioning my authority, old man. You know what happens when I’m dishonored. Maybe I should string you up instead.”

“You fool. String me up all you like. But just know, it is you who will be the end of us all! They won’t let you keep her- they won’t let you keep your life!”

“Then a war will be upon them… we will fight! We will not let them enter our lands!”

A deafening roar of cheers and hoots ensued at the prospect of war, causing Xilä to swallow nervously. She didn’t want anyone from her clan getting hurt over her- especially Neteyam.

“They don’t need to know she’s here, though. They would leave if they see that. Just kill her, she is a waste anyway,” Vhin suggested, lust filled eyes falling on the man who was so keen on keeping Xilä. “Let me do it, Olo'eyktan,” she volunteered eagerly, hand reaching for the knife attached to her hip, "I could do it quickly, or slowly if you prefer-"

“No. Leave it!” he snapped. “We feast,” Su’ko ordered, clearly trying to distract and derail the conversation.

“And just what will we feast on?” a woman questioned. “Those vermin will not make a dent in our stomachs. You promised us food Su’ko, a bountiful.”

“Exactly! Where’s the rest of the food, Su’ko?” someone else demanded. “You never said that the sack you brought back was from the Omatikaya either.”

“How many other lies have you told us?!” another accused.

Su’ko blanched at the questioning, face growing enraged as the crowd grew rowdier towards him.

An uproar of agreement and disagreement ensued. Pointed fingers, bared fangs, curses and dangerous threats flew left and right. Weapons were drawn as one by one the few still seated got to their feet.

“Where’s the rest of the water and the medicine?”

“You gave us scraps!”

“Hoarding the rest for yourself, are you?”

“You’ve lied to us! You swore your truth to this clan!”

“Lies! All lies!” an elder roared. “You are no better than that bastard T'shteyo!”

It was finally happening.

The chaos…

She and Askadu had succeeded in their plan.

“SILENCE!” A man roared. “Listen…” he said ominously, ears perked as his eyes found the cave's entrance.

And in that very moment, when all had gone quiet did they all hear it…a chilling sound from the distance. The blaring call of a horn that warned of danger…grave danger.

Wide eyes and panicked expressions replaced the hostility from before, all attention falling to their leader as if he held the answer, as if waiting for instruction.

Hurried footsteps had them all tightening their grips on the handles of their weapons.

“Su’ko!”

“Su’ko!”

The entire clan watched as a panting young man- no, boy raced through the entrance- exposed face pale in fear. The teen was probably one of the last to be born of the Li’ona people.

“Chief, there are people entering the boarders,” the boy declared, fire in his eyes as if excited for the prospect of a fight. “A lot of them."

Su'ko pounded the end of his staff against the ground. "Gather your weapons, round up the beasts, we ride out before last light!"

As the clan followed his directive, he marched toward Xi and grabbed her by the face, fingers and thumb sinking painfully. "Petal, your precious beloved will die tonight. I will string him up beside your father and watch as wild beasts feast on his corpse."

Xi's eyes squinted in amusement. "You're afraid. You reek of fear," she spat through clenched teeth.

His nostrils flared.

"Su'ko! Let's go!" someone called, pulling his attention away.

Su'ko paused, untrusting eyes wavering at Xi's words. "Dhgu!" he summoned his second, "Come with me, I have a plan."

~

“Get him down from there,” Neteyam ordered without emotion.

“Ugh, he reeks!” Lo’ak’s face squished in disgust at the sight of T’shteyo’s pitiful form being cut down from a high jagged rock. “Damn, I wonder how long he's been up there. His own people sure fucked him up… Is he dead?”

“I hope not,” Neteyam muttered, causing his brother to shoot him a mildly alarmed look.

The rest of their fleet hung back while a small group had broken away to investigate “the body” a scout had spotted.

T’shteyo forcefully peaked through squinted eyes- skin burnt and raw. “Wa-water…w-water,” he pleaded through blood cracked lips.

Neteyam crouched in front of the crumpled heap of limbs, head tilted as his arms hung lazily between his thighs.

“Where is my wife?”

“W-wat-water.”

“Where. Is. My wife,” he growled again.

“P-pl-please,” T'shteyo sobbed, bloodied fingers crawling at the dirt, reaching towards Neteyam’s feet in desperation.

“This?” Neteyam asked, revealing his own personal pouch which was secured to his hip. He uncapped it, removed his mask and took a long slow drink. He gave a satisfied sigh in delight, “Refreshing.”

Tears welled in T'shteyo’s eyes at the sight.

“Tell me where my wife is and I’ll consider giving you a sip.”

The man licked his lips. “They t-took her. Su’ko a-and his men.”

“Where?”

“Plea-”

“WHERE!”

“Past the village. T-they said s-something about a cave,” he rasped. “That’s a-all I know.”

Neteyam turned to his father who nodded, words not needing to be said. At once the Olo'eyktan ordered two scouts to fly ahead and check the area.

The sound of his name being called had him standing once more. “What is it?” he asked his approaching father-in-law.

“I’ll do it,” the elder said with a jerk of his chin in T'shteyo’s direction.

“Jxo, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I have to…I need to,” he urged.

Neteyam hesitated. He’d been imagining this moment for days now- the moment he was finally able to kill the bastard who’d taken his mate. But Jxo, he guessed probably did need this more than him.

“Alright,” he relented, moving to the side so that Jxo could take his place. Curiously, he stood back and observed the elder’s actions.

Jxo tossed a waterskin and a parcel of food at the man before him. He waited patiently as T'shteyo scrambled without a glance upward, finishing both the water and the small meal within seconds.

“You...” T'shteyo said in shock, noticing Jxo for the first time.

“Me.”

“What are you playing at, old man?” he asked untrustingly. “Did you poison me?”

“Poison?” Jxo mused. “Oh no no no. That would be too kind of me, don’t you think? Too lenient…I just didn’t want you dying of thirst or starvation. Not while you and I have much to discuss.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak whispered to his brother, “what’s he up too?”

“No idea,” Neteyam murmured back as he too watched from the sidelines.

“Do you know what I do for my clan?” Jxo suddenly asked T'shteyo, gravelly voice calm and cool as he stooped and pulled out a rolled leather case from his pack.

“What?” T'shteyo was looking at him as if he were insane.

“I’m a woodworker. Have been since I was a boy…followed in my father’s footsteps actually. Anything you could possibly think of, I can create,” he said, “but you see carving, carving is my specialty,” he smiled- and Jxo rarely smiled, “lots of intricate work, detailed,” he emphasized as he unrolled the leather case to display an array of pointed and sharp tools and instruments.

T'shteyo’s face paled, realization drawing upon him at Jxo’s words. “Don’t-”

“Don’t what? Don’t hurt you? Don’t make you suffer? Don’t cause you pain?” Jxo asked. Face marring an angry expression, he leaned closer. “Xilä may not have my blood but she is my kid -my daughter. And you hurt her! You made her suffer, caused her pain…sold her as if she were fucking nothing!”

“N-Neteyam!” T'shteyo cried, pleading eyes falling to him, but Neteyam’s face was blank- void of any emotion as he watched on.

"He's not going to help you...see, like him, I know everything. Oh that's right, don't look so surprised. That's why I said we have much to talk about..." Jxo titled his head, scrutinizing the man, "You have physically and emotionally scarred my little girl since she was brought into this world. Did you honestly think you would get away with it?"

“Xi-Xilä, Xilä!” he whimpered then.

Neteyam was on the man before he could blink, knife drawing blood as it sank inches into his throat. “You don’t get to say her name,” he spat, murderous eyes ablaze, “You did this. I warned you, I even spared your life once. Not again. Now…now you pay.”

Crimson drops formed a small pool in the dirt between them and Neteyam had to force himself not to slit the man’s throat. “I’d kill you right this instant…but Jxo’s right…you don’t deserve a quick death.”

He shoved the pathetic Na’vi away, turning in time to spot the scouts flying back towards them.

When they’d been informed about the location of the cave, Jake began to round up the rest of their fleet, going over last minute strategies once more to include details the scouts were able to provide.

“You should go. I’m going to be here a while,” Jxo said to Neteyam as he fished out a sharpening stone and started to run it along a hooked-nose knife. “Page in when you get my kid.”

Hesitating for the second time that day, he sighed, “Alright then.” Neteyam signaled to three men. “Stay with Jxo while we head out. Once he’s…” he cleared his throat and averted his gaze when Jxo suddenly began to test out a flat headed chisel against a random rock- the blade sinking into it with ease, “once he’s finished, head back to Stephan’s ship. We’ll meet you there.”

“Neteyam!” T'shteyo cried again, fear crippling him as Jxo calmly tied a leather apron to his front, humming a tune cheerily as if it were just another day of crafting.

Neteyam shot T'shteyo one final blank stare. “You better pray that she’s alive… May we never meet again,” he said, before turning to stride towards their fleet.

“Bro,” Lo’ak shook his head, keeping pace with him, “remind me to never piss off Jxo, because I swear, your father-in-law is one scary motherfucker.”

~

Li’ona and Omatikaya.

Each side faced off- sixty feet between them as they glared and hissed at each other.

Neteyam and his father strode forward and met two Li’ona men half way, keeping them at a distance.

“Remember, let me do the talking,” Jake murmured to his son.

“Got it.”

There were no pleasantries exchanged, no signs of respect or polite greetings.

“You are not welcomed in these lands!” one of the men hissed. “Leave now, or we slaughter you all!”

Jake merely blinked, attention set on the second man instead- the one with the bloody bandaged ear. “My name is Jake Sully. Olo'eyktan for the Omatikaya. We mean no harm unless you don’t cooperate.”

“Jakesully, the mighty Toruk Makto…there is no need for you to be here! You and your Omatikaya filth must leave at once,” the same man sneered.

“Well we wouldn’t be here if you weren't holding one of our own captive.”

“There is none of your kind here!”

“Now that’s just not true now, is it? My daughter-in-law, Xilä, hand her over,” he ordered, once again addressing the second man.

“Why do you keep looking at him, I’m the one talking to you!”

Jake smirked behind his mask. “Because he’s the one in charge…it’s Su’ko, right?” he revealed, surprising the two men who tried to fool them. “Let’s not stall this out any longer. It’s quite simple actually. Hand Xilä over, and we’ll leave. That’s the second time I’ve asked. There won’t be a third.”

Neteyam zeroed in on Su’ko, fingers itching for the blade on his hip. The man clocked this and barked a laugh, finally speaking for the first time.

“So you’ve found me out then. Dhgu and I were just having a bit of fun. I admit you are far smarter than I was expecting Jakesully.”

His gaze fell on Neteyam again. “You must be the mate my new bitch keeps moaning on about…” He cocked his head to the side as if sizing him up. “She’s a feisty little thing, isn’t she?”

That was it.

Wait for the signal be dammed.

An audible crack broke the tension and pain bloomed across Neteyam’s knuckles from the sheer force of the blow he’d administered.

Su’ko dropped like a sack of yovo fruit, stunned eyes on the three men above him as if not realizing what just happened, mouth gushing crimson through his face covering.

With a simple press to the choker around his neck, Neteyam calmly said three chilling words that sounded through every person’s ear piece…

“Kill them all.”

And then all hell broke loose.

Both sides charged.

Jake attacked Su’ko’s goon just as Neteyam lurched toward the man himself.

The clans clashed in fits of knives, guns, teeth, fists, spares, guns, bows, arrows.

It was a bloodbath.

Brutal.

Savage.

Deadly.

Through the bodies who’d joined, Su’ko, the slimy filth, somehow managed to flee from Neteyam’s clutches.

Neteyam was intercepted when a Li’ona male threw himself at him. He fought off the fool with ease, blade piercing through his chin, sprinkling blood as it was ripped out.

Striding through the battle, Neteyam gained speed and gave chase. He was not going to let Su’ko escape.

The bastard was surprisingly fast and headed straight for a line of dead trees.

Coward.

Catching up to him, they attacked at the same time, knife clashing with spear. Their strikes were vicious in a song of snarls and grunts and curses, movements fluid and deliberate, flowing almost like a practiced dance.

Neteyam poured out every bottled up fury and frustration, vengeance flowing through his veins. He couldn’t kill T'shteyo, but this was as close as he could get.

Xilä flooded his mind.

Every bruise, every tear, every ounce of pain and hurt she’d endured at the hands of these lands, at the hands of its people.

This was his revenge for her.

He gained the upper hand when Su’ko stumbled and, lucky dagger pulled from the sheath on his chest, he plunged, and twisted.

Su’ko garbled in shock, blood trickling out from his lips and down his chin.

“For Xilä.”

Plunge.

“My mate.”

Plunge.

“Wife!”

Plunge.

“Mother of my future children.”

Plunge.

“Omatikaya’s destined Tsahìk.”

Plunge.

“And the woman who brought you to your end.”

Su’ko’s body dropped with an echoing THUD around the dead woods they were in.

Panting, Neteyam stared at the corpse without an ounce of remorse.

It was done.

~

Vhin seethed as her people were slaughtered. It was all that girl’s fault, that stupid, stupid girl!

She fled the battle and returned to the cave with only one intention.

“You little whore!” Vhin screeched, causing Xilä to freeze from her frantic task of trying to escape her chains.

She watched wide eyed as a knife wielding Vhin advanced on her.

“We should have just killed you in the first place!”

Xilä dodged her sloppy swings with practiced ease, but could only do so much as the chain became tangled beneath her. “Vhin, STOP!”

The woman laughed like psycho, reminding her of her overly disturbed father. “Su’ko is slaughtering your fucking mate as we speak! We’ll cut off his head and string him up for the beasts to feast on!"

An animalistic rage flooded Xilä’s mind where all she saw was blood. And with a roar of blinding anger, she attacked. This time not to subdue, not to block…but to kill.

In Xi and Vhin's tussle, the knife fell to the floor. The both dived for it crawling and kicking in a fit of limbs. Vhin managed to reach it first but Xi fisted her hair and slammed her face into ground.

Vhin screamed in pain as Xi wrestled the knife from her and forcefully tried to drive it into her face. They both strained and struggled as inch by inch the blade came closer and closer to Vhin’s face.

SPLAT!

Xi blinked as warm liquid speckled her face and neck. Her grip on the blade loosened, jaw falling open as she stared at the arrow embedded in Vhin’s temple.

What...?

Head snapping to the inflictor, there stood, with their bow was, “Leati!” Xi cried.

The warrior smirked, “You were taking too long to kill her.”

Scrambling away from the dead body she was still leaning over, a relieved sob escaped Xi.

Leati grumbled when Xi flung herself at her, hugging her tightly, but her annoyance simmered the instant they broke apart.

“Xilä…” she trailed off, taking in the horrifying way she looked. Shaking her head, she tugged on her wrist, “Let’s get out of here.”

“I can’t, this chain won’t budge!”

“Fuck,” Leati swore, kneeling to see if she could help.

“Leati, watch out!” Xi suddenly yelled as a rock went flying, missing the warrior’s head by inches.

“He’s dead! You killed him!” H’mdell, stalked towards Xilä. “He’s dead! What did you give my father?!”

Xi blanched…Askadu actually did it then...

Leati did not hesitate, she attacked like a flying banshee, leaping at the hulking man in sheer brutality. The two went stumbling off the short ledge in a fit of kicks and punches making Xi’s chest pound in worry.

“Xilä!” she heard someone call from a distance.

“Xilä!”

She hesitated to answer, it could have been anybody…

“XiXi!”

“Lo’ak?!”

He found her within seconds, relief etched in his eyes. “Oh thank Eywa. Xi, we gotta go, come on!”

“I can’t.” She showed him the chain, and he cursed.

“Here, stretch your leg out and block your ears,” he instructed as he lifted the large gun strapped to his chest.

With one precise shot, the chain was broken. “Let’s go!”

“Wait, what about Leati?!”

“She’ll be fine,” he assured, pulling her with him, giving her no other choice but to limp along.

They ran the length of the cave, bypassing dead bodies and still fighting Na’vi. Lo’ak led them to the edge of the entrance, tugging her behind a boulder, so they were hidden when a pair of Li’ona men came running in.

He turned towards her, ready to tell her their plan of escape but suddenly noticed. “Where’s your shit? You can’t go out there like that!” he hissed, momentarily ignoring her cuts and bruises to instead focus on her lack of boots and cloak.

“They stole it from me.”

“Oh those fuckers,” he huffed. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Xi watched as he crawled away. Then, in less than two minutes he was back, beckoning her over eagerly. “Alright, the coast is clear, in you get,” he directed, untying his cloak to open it wide for her to share it with him.

She was lifted off her feet before she could blink and then Lo’ak was moving like lightning.

He dodged past the body he had just taken out and skirted around two females who were locked in hand to hand in combat, then out into the darkness of stifling heat. Within seconds, they were in the air as his ikran came flying out from nowhere.

Xilä curled into Lo’ak and tucked in her feet. She worriedly peered down at the raging war below for merely a second before Lo'ak was pushing her head down. "Don't look," he whispered.

When he knew they were about to approach the jagged rock, he kept her firmly locked with a gentle hold. He didn't want her to see in case Jxo was still at work on her father.

Good thing too, because when he spotted them, he grimaced at the sight. From as high up as they were, the sheer volume of T'shteyo's vibrant red blood was a stark contrast to the dull, dusty ground.

Jxo was not playing around…

They made it to the ship in no time. Stephan, a medic and two guards were there to greet them. Lo’ak carried her into the aircraft where she collapsed from fatigue, adrenaline wearing off, leaving her weak and aching.

“Drink up XiXi,” her brother-in-law said softly, pressing the sprout of a water pouch against her lips.

She drank greedily.

Lo’ak’s throat bobbed as he finally observed her. She looked like she’d been through hell. He gently brushed the back of her hair when she’d finished and slumped forward to lean into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner,” he murmured.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

“He’s right,” Stephan said, butting in. He gave her a sheepish expression from his seat on the floor opposite them- head bandaged and arm in a sling. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder…do more.”

Xi shook her head, a smile peeking through to let him know it was okay. She had no words, so she hoped it conveyed how grateful she was of him.

The medic had just begun to attend to her bloody ankle when she asked anxiously, “Lo’ak, is Neteyam okay? Have you checked in with him?”

“I haven't yet. But don’t worry, he’s fine.”

“Can you go make sure? Please? My husband is-”

“Will be fine,” he said firmly.

“But-”

“Xi, I made him a promise. Me being here. I’m honoring that promise.”

“You need to stay calm,” the medic interrupted, adjusting something on the beeping machine she was hooked up to.

But worry only made Xilä’s pulse roar just as fast.

“Hey,” Lo’ak murmured softly, taking her hand in his own, “Xi, everything will be okay.”

“Lo’ak…I don’t want our people to get hurt… especially my Ne- I’m here. I’m safe. They can stop and come back now…tell them,” she urged. "Tell him!"

“I can’t do that, Xi…”

“They’re going to kill them all, aren't they?”

“What do you think? If the roles where reversed, tell me.”

She pursed her lips. “I think, I think if Neteyam was in my position…I think I’d do the same thing too.”

“Well, there you have it. Now, please try to stay calm. Getting worked up won’t help him right now. Okay? It's Neteyam, come on Xi, who do you think taught us everything he knows?”

An uncontrollable huff of a laugh escaped her. Xilä nodded, then forced herself to take a deep breath.

~

Jxo and the three warriors accompanying him were the first ones to arrive.

Xilä broke down the minute the elder wrapped her up in his arms. They were both a mumbling, sobbing mess as they reunited. Xi didn’t even care that his cloak was coated in fresh blood that stained her already filthy clothes and skin.

“What are you doing here?” she asked through a blinding grin.

Jxo shrugged and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I may not be a warrior, but I know my way around a good blade,” he joked.

They stayed wrapped up for who knows how long, seated in a corner of the cool ship until she began to nod off- body aching and begging for sleep.

Only when the early hours of the morning finally dawned did they hear the cries of ikrans.

The bay doors opened and Xilä stepped as far out onto the landing as she could, searching the crowd of returning warriors for one in particular.

Relief flooded her when Leati was spotted unharmed.

Meanwhile, Neteyam, one of the last to land, was doing the same.

Through the parting bodies, he caught sight of her instantly and a flood of emotion lodged in his chest. She was a bruised and bloody mess, and still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

In quick strides as soon as she was within arms reach, he lifted her into his arms. Legs locked around his waist, forehead and noses pressing into each other as their gazes locked- intense and reassuring.

“Baby- oh fuck. Please, please tell me this is real.”

“I’m here. I’m here, it’s me.” Xilä tugged his mask free to cup his cheeks, “Oh Eywa, you’re just as handsome as I remembered.”

They both laughed, teary eyed and choked up. And unable to stifle it, a sob escaped him.

“Please don’t cry. We’re both here. We’re both fine.”

“C’mere.” He’d barely brushed her lips when she pulled away.

“I’m filthy,” she whined.

“I don’t care.”

And then he was claiming her lips, keeping her locked with a possessive grip on the back of her neck, and uncaring of their cheering audience as their tongues and teeth reunited.

Journey squawked loudly from above them, landing clumsily as she vied for attention. Neteyam walked them out a few steps from under the ship’s covering so she could greet her ikran.

The mountain banshee nipped at Xi’s hood making her laugh.

“Xi…”

Her husband was kissing her again, pouring out every ounce of emotion he could this time.

A drop of liquid splashed Neteyam’s cheek, and then another. And another.

They broke apart, matching frowns lifting to the sky.

Rain.

With a roar, the skies opened, showering them with sweet sweet rain as thunder rumbled in the distance. Xilä’s jaw dropped, palms reaching out to feel if she’d been imagining things but no.

Eywa.

Hoods were shrugged down and grins went wide as the Omatikaya people celebrated.

“It’s raining,” she whispered in awe as droplets fell down her cheeks. She inhaled sharply when she met her husband’s intense stare. “You’re really here. You came… for me,” she murmured, index finger tracing the soft flesh of his lips.

“Always. I'd move mountains if I have to. I love you Xilä Sully. So fucking much. You should know that by now,” he whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too,” she sniffed, rain masking her tears.

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want to go home,” she said through trembling lips.

“Yeah, okay,” he murmured, “Let’s get you home.”

“But wait…Kiss me first.”

He nodded, smile cracking wide as he leaned in. “Whatever you want sweetheart, whatever you want,” he said, claiming her lips once more. 

~

I’m rushing to post this since I have an early appointment. So I may or may not come back to post a proper AN.

But as always, you know what to do lovelies :)

Seriously hope y’all enjoyed this chapter.

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife @luvteyams @isnt-itstrange @erenjaegerwifee @faatxma @ivysully @bakugouswaif

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

[lookingforhappy]

The Birth Locations/Suitcase Reveal Sucks

before you read please don't take this too seriously, I don't have a problem with people who enjoy this reveal I just wish more people would consider/analyse this as I feel like it's very half-assed and not at all well thought out

I know I've written something like this before and i'm sorry to write this again, but I think my arguments have developed and I want to explain better why I hate this decision.

I am referring to this set of posters for season 3

as the stickers on the suitcases were revealed to be their birth locations by Jeff King (executive producer and director) on instagram

the actual answer to his question is "lila's sticker" but semantics/specifics who cares (me)

why I distrust the theory/trivia as a whole

something I think should be considered here is that this is the only confirmation of this piece of trivia.

another example of TUA trivia that has been confirmed by the creators is the statement by Blackman (god ik just ignore that part for now, that isnt the point of the post & he's still a/the creator) on a reddit AMA that Grace helped the siblings choose their names based on their birth countries

however, these are both poorly researched/prepared pieces of trivia because they blatantly contradict each other

Luther's birthplace is Sweden, but Luther isn't a Swedish name, nor was is popular in either 1989 when he was born or 2002 when he was first seen using his name.

Diego is always a fairly popular name in Spanish speaking countries like Mexico but it's hardly high on the list (only statistic I can find is ranked at 31.)

Allison is neither a South African name nor is it listed as it's top names.

Klaus is Germanic (kinda fits the theme) but as far as I can see Klaus is not a biblical name which is much more typical of the Amish. Klaus is also not listed amongst the top Amish names that I've seen.

Five obviously is an outlier here.

Ben is clearly not Korean, and while I have had fun discussing the roots of his name with others (Jae-min becoming Benjamin, and Bin becoming Ben) I don't think that there's any way that the creators will acknowledge this. Ben has origins in Hebrew and is not at all popular in Korea.

Vanya (the applicable name, as Viktor wasn't yet revealed) is a male name in Russia. it's female in other countries like Bulgaria, but not Russia. It's a nickname/evolution of the name Ivan. Vanya is also not a popular name in Russia, but Ivan does seem to be. And I seriously doubt that they're going to reveal that Viktor originally named himself Ivan while he was identifying as female and then decided to change his name anyway?

which is to say, the word of the creator cannot always be trusted/believed, because that's not necessarily what will be reflected in canon or by the other creators.

there is quite a history in fandom of creators not understanding the themes/plotholes of their own creations, so i'm a little stunned at how quickly everyone integrated this into their canon without a second thought.

i have arugments as to why these locations are bad choices for the characters, but first lets take a look at what i believe these stickers were meant to represent

Placing down a read more because this became huge.

what the other stickers reference/mean

it's no secret that i think the stickers were hints to the events (related to each character's arc) of season 3.

but before i get to that let's breakdown the rest of the stickers and their meanings:

all of the umbrella's have an umbrella sticker. Lila is the only one who doesn't (so if we're playing the "who is the odd one out" game then it still falls as Lila because she is the only one without the umbrella sticker)

Luther

Luther dies in Hotel Obsidian, and never makes it physically inside Oblivion or has any part in powering it - so his sticker has the colours/design of Obsidian.

Diego

Diego is one of/the first to discover Hotel Oblivion, so he has the Oblivion colours and logo.

Allison

Allison is involved in Reginald's plot to use Oblivion to reset thte universe, so gets Oblivion's logo instead of Obsidian.

Klaus

Klaus was the one to know and direct them to Hotel Obsidian, so he has that logo.

Five

Five's revelation that he was the Founder of the Commission, and the impact of that discovery, links him to the Commission more so than either hotel.

Viktor

viktor has the hotel Obsidian logo because he has very little impact on anything to do with Oblivion and is one of the votes that decides to remain and die in Obsidian.

Lila

Lila has the Commission because she was raised in the Commission, not the Umbrella Academy.

Lila has the Obsidian logo in opposition to Diego's Oblivion logo as she chooses the opposite of Diego (I personally believe they should have swapped these two but..)

why the birth locations are more likely/appropriate as hints for the events of season 3

Luther - Stockholm, Sweden

This is probably my strongest argument: He is made fun of for having "Stockholm Syndrome" within the show

found: Season 3, episode 3, minute 13.

Luther, obviously spends all of his character development/moments with the Sparrows and Sloane - being kidnapped by them and developing "Stockholm Syndrome" for Sloane (romantic) and for the Sparrows as a whole (platonic/idealism/escapism)

Luther's mother's newpaper cutting also mentions 911 being called, but 911 is not the emergency number of Sweden, 112 is. Argentina, Canada, Dominican Republic, Jordan, Mexico, Pakistan, Palau, Panama, the Philippines, Sint Maarten, the United States, and Uruguay use 911 but not Sweden.

If Monica wasn't in Sweden at the time of Luther's birth, then Stockholm is hardly his birth location.

throughout the seasons we get a few instances of Diego, Ben and Viktor speaking their native languages, hinting that the 7 were all taught their mother's languages (with Allison at least likely learning all 7)

But if Luther is Swedish, why didn't he or Diego know what Oga For Oga meant if that's Luther's mother's language? and why was Five the only person who seemed to understand Swedish when he's not the Swede of the family? Why did Diego not at least recognise his brother's supposed second language? Or Luther for that matter?

Luther was a part of the Academy for 23+ years, longer than anyone, yet Reginald (who expects the best of his children) didn't bother enforcing this as a part of his education? his number one had a worse education than his number 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7?

Diego - Mexico

Diego apparently doesn't even get the luxury of a city, place or region. But I can confirm that his mother's newspaper cutting states that he was born in a "small town in Northern Mexico".

However, Diego's sticker could instead be a reference to the Aztecs or Mayans - his sticker has mayan/aztec pyramids on it, I believe maybe Chichen Itza specifically?? Ancient civilisations that were very advanced for their time, and that are somewhat frequently involved in alien conspiracies.

Diego is one the one to open Oblivion when he removes the harpoon, and is the first to enter it and confront the Guardians.

Oblivion is an Ancient building/place built by an Ancient civilisation of what is assumed to be aliens, and Reginald (confirmed alien) is the one to have directed them into Oblivion at first as well.

Allison - Cape Town, South Africa

Nelson Mandela is pretty famous for his part in the anti-apartheid (segregation) movement, helping to end segregation in South Africa. He was jailed in a Cape Town prison for attempting to sabotage the pro-segregation government, and then later his office as president was located in Cape Town.

an easy connection to make with Allison's arc in season 2, and the significance of it in her arc in season 3, with her dealing with PTSD, grief over Ray, and feeling alienated by her family who didn't have the same experience as her in the 60s.

Allson's mother has nothing connecting her to South Africa outside of this, as far as I'm aware.

Klaus - Pennsylvania, USA

This one I will concede is about his birth location. But in this case, it's also heavily related to his season 3 arc, as he is the driving force of the mothers plotline and literally travels to Pennsylvania.

PA is a strong and relevant hint for his s3 arc.

Five - Dublin, Ireland

Five could be connected to Ireland in multiple ways.

(there is a link between Five and JFK, "the 1st Irish American President" but I can't see the link to s3 here so honorary mention only).

A link that I understand is a somewhat touchy topic for any Irish citizens is the stereotype of drunkeness in Ireland. While there have been studies to prove that Ireland doesn't drink more than other countries such as England, it remains a well-known stereotype and the Irish people are statistically more prone to alcohol dependency/addiction.

There is also the phrase "make it Irish" which means to put alcohol in a drink, one of the more popular drinks to do this to is coffee. Which brings us back to Five - he is known for his love of coffee and for getting spectacularly drunk.

season 3 in particular features his drinking addiction in it's full glory. it's also plot relevant as his drunkness causes the murder mystery setup of the final episodes.

(also, while it's not great to have Ireland be the hint to alcohol, it's also not great to have Five, the alcoholic of the series, be the Irish representation)

Another interpretation could be the root of the name "Dublin" meaning "black pool". It was likely derived from the River Poddle which would have been stained black with peat. This could be a hint towards Five's elusive role as the Founder, as his life so far has been stained with childhood abuse, the apocalypse and his foray as an assassin, making the reveal of the Founder a shock.

One other interpretation is the Irish vs. English. Five is perhaps the most skeptical of Reginald throughout season 3, moreso than even Luther or Diego. While England has enraged many countries, Ireland is one of the most well known for it's dislike of the English, and has a lengthy history of war and altercations with England. So Five's sticker may be a hint for his re-ignited distrust of Reginald. It also works well as a predictor for Five and Lila's (English) bathroom fight.

Five's mother's newpaper cutting has several contradictions to the Ireland, Dublin location. First and foremost being that she is cited as being from both a "small seaside community" and from "county clark".

There is no County Clark in Ireland, but there is a County Clare and a County Cork. However, County Clare is on the opposite side of Ireland to Dublin and County Cork is even farther away,

Dublin, as the Capital City, is also not a "small seaside community" by any stretch of the imagination.

And the Irish police would likely not be referred to as "provincial" but instead be called Gardaí or The Garda Síochána.

Viktor - Moscow, Russia

Moscow is seen in season 1, episode 1 very briefly as Reginald arrives to adopt Viktor. You can see both the Spasskaya Tower and St Basil's Cathedral. Viktor also speaks Russian, something that none of his siblings have demonstrated.

However, this is not actually Viktor's birthplace (if we believe that the props have canon information, as most argue that Diego is definately from Mexico due to his cutting stating his mother was in Northern Mexico, etc) as according to his book Viktor was born in "small town off the Southern coast of Russia".

Moscow is nowhere near the coast and is not exactly southern either, nor is it a small town. And while this isn't exaclty specified that the "small town" he visits is the place he was born, it wouldn't make much sense if it wasn't, as Viktor was able to track his mother down via newspaper articles about his birth.

Moscow could mean a lot of things for Viktor's arc:

it could be a reference to s1, ep1 but instead of his exact birth location, it could simply hint to his mother's country and toward Harlan's involvement in the mothers' deaths - and the long reach of his powers from America to Russia.

It could also be a hint to Viktor's significance as a much more involved and aware plot driver this season as Moscow is the politcal centre of Russia as its capital city.

It might also hint at his disconnect from his family (not being a part of the Academy and not understanding the hard decisions and necessary teamwork that come with it) causing tensions, as while Moscow is the political capital, Saint Petersburg is considered the cultural capital.

Plus Moscow's history as the capital works well as a parallel to his journey with his powers, and works as a hint to Viktor developing his powers with Harlan because Moscow also briefly lost its status as the capital to Saint Petersburg, possibly a parallel to Viktor, the most powerful of the Umbrellas, losing his powers to Reginald's drugs. Moscow was later restored as the capital, paralleling Viktor's regaining of his powers.

Lila - Berlin

Lila is nice and simple, she was considered the outlier by Jeff King anyway as her suitcase doesn't match her confirmed birth place (London), and instead is a pretty obvious hint to her time in West Berlin, Germany, with Trudy and Stan.

why i dislike the chosen locations as the birth locations

in general I think it's silly to choose almost all capital cities: Dublin, Moscow, Cape Town, Stockholm, Seoul..

I know these are populous places but there must have been some variation? (aside from Klaus, who has plot armour for this point due to his Amish origins, and Diego, who is the only non-capital city purely because he wasn't given the dignity of a named city/town/village)

it's also lazy writing (and i believe somewhat racist?) to have every sibling come from the country/continent you'd expect?

the latino is mexican

the black woman is african

the asian man is asian

the blonde haired/blue eyed man is scandinavian

even Klaus, Five and Viktor are all white men from predominantly white countries.

at least try to subvert expectations?

to an extent i understand that they were trying to incorporate the actors ethnicities with Justin having korean roots, and David being raised in mexico. But the only irish thing about Aidan is his surname, and Emmy has no known connection to South Africa. I'm also pretty sure Tom isn't swedish at all and Elliot isn't russian.

it's lazy, poorly planned and honestly highly questionable writing at best

[sirfrogsworth]

So in one post you’re ranting about people on Twitter stealing jokes and in another you’re reposting other people’s art….

I think you have a deep misunderstanding of the problem.

There is content creation... Someone makes a thing.

There is content curation... Someone shares a thing someone else made.

There is attribution... Someone credits the creator of the content.

There is theft... Someone takes credit for content they did not make.

I love content creation. Artists are great.

I love content curation. There is way too much content on the internet and without people sorting through it and finding the best stuff, we would all go nuts looking at all the bad stuff just to find a few hidden gems. When I was doing this as a job and when I wasn't creating content, I used to go through about a thousand images per day just to find 5 to post on my blog. It's actually a lot of work.

I love attribution. One of the main ways I grew my following was by content curators sharing my work and crediting me.

People like the thing. They see who made it. They follow that creator.

I do not like theft. Sometimes you can't find a source for something. I understand that happens and I struggle with that sometimes myself. But people sharing something they did not create and taking credit for its creation is super scummy. Especially if they are erasing watermarks and adding their own. This will give people the impression they made the thing, so they won't even try to find the creator of that content. The original content creator will never get the benefit of more followers.

So, whenever I curate content, I always try to find the source. Especially if it is a creative work that took a lot of time and effort to make. I also try to give people multiple ways to consume that creator's content.

If you look at the art you mentioned, you can see links to several places to follow the artist.

And if I cannot find a source, what I will absolutely not do, is give people the impression I am responsible for creating the content. And oftentimes someone will recognize the creator and I am able to add attribution after the fact.

As both a content creator and a content curator, these are the best practices I have developed over years of doing this. Some people accuse curators of being just "reposters" and being lazy for not creating their own content, but they are an extremely valuable asset to artists. We need ethical curators to share our work and attribute it properly so we can build audiences.

What we don't want are content thieves and those assholes who say, "credit goes to the artist who made this."

Hopefully you have a better understanding of the issue now.

[songoftrillium]

Hi!!

I saw your reblogged ask about WtE redesigning the Get, and I'm curious what you can share?

I'm working on my own rewrite project (it's mostly a redesign of the W5 system, designed to work with either my patchwork mess of lore or with WtE lore) and I've been having some trouble with the Get, so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

I'm sharing this as someone who has always held a deep affection for Fenrir.

When redesigning the tribe I wanted to do it from a few angles at once.

What motivates a warrior? What is, what is it that makes a society one that is oriented so closely around battle prowess?

What history can do to shape a society into a society of warriors

How does the warriors outlook shape society at large?

What parts of Fenrir history can have direct parallels with minimal effort?

What key parts of the Fenrir are absolutes that cannot be removed without making the tribe unrecognizable to fans?

So, I did exactly that.

The first thing I did was I talked to scandinavian, sami, and slav people actively living in europe and got some pretty deep lessons on outlooks and culture, as well as numerous history lessons from a first-person perspective on things. I then befriended a polish-speaking pagan that was happy to teach me about cultures on sacrifice as both a literal practice and one that affects outlook. In that light, I rewrote the tribe to be one that went from 'seeking a good death' to a tribe that 'seeks causes worth dying for.'

Actually, why don't I just share with you the Get! (glyph used with permission by Feral Noesis)

Get of Fenris (see below the cut)

Dziewanik. Fenrir. Gummoš. Feriksen Suku. Vilkati. Vukarci. Legends, clothing, and common parlance from Sápmi to Carpathia speak of lupine spirits, warriors and deities all linked to the wilderness, hunting, society, and even to some of the oldest creation myths, and in each of these societies, a tribe of fearless Garou emerged. Even among a race of warriors, the Fenrir stand out as the one tribe well and truly composed of warriors from the top down. They throw themselves heart-first into a worthy cause, wearing scars with pride, howling the defeat of their enemies, and maintaining a reputation built on Glory wrought through great sacrifice and determination. Theirs is a culture of warriors whose history is etched in rocks and ancient temples deep in the wilderness.

Their origins can be traced to before the crusades, following the emigration of Germanic and proto-baltic-slav tribes fleeing the Huns both west and northwards. Regularly raided from the Carpathians, it would be Fenris’ wolves who came to find human tribes espousing their very ideals, worshipping the plants and rocks around them. Taking up the hammers and axes these people used in everyday life and now had to use to defend themselves, these became the symbols for the tribe itself—the weapons of the common man fighting alongside kin against insurmountable enemies and overcoming side-by-side.

This culture of adoption, cause, and sacrifice remains unchanged to this day. Lineage alone doesn’t make a Get of Fenris. If a cub cannot stand up to the tribe’s brutal and often bloody trials, they stand no chance against the kind of enemy the Get pursue. Fenrir maneuvers and tactics were first developed deep inside the mountains, combating the Jotunn. Long ago, these twisted and vile giants battered Fenrir around like playthings.

Since the beginning, those espousing the ideals of Fenris seek worthy causes they can throw themselves into body and soul. Their fearlessness lies in their determination weighing their strikes. To a Fenrir, nothing in life worth having comes without significant personal work to obtain, from the manner in which they maintain their spirit affinities to their very homes they always build by hand.

Heroism is not without its drawbacks. The life of a Fenrir is often short and violent. This has led to a belief that the tribe is comprised of mindless warriors with insatiable bloodlust. Those who run with the Fenrir find them to be direct, plain-worded, and espousing deep convictions for the causes they’ve dedicated their lives to.

Leadership in the tribe follows the philosophy of Fenris, that seniority has no meaning. Those most capable of leading in their position do so. Their zedakh’fa, or jarls, earn their right to rule with iron and fang; the leaders of their packs are those most capable of instilling valor in their wolves, and the leader of the household is the kin most knowledgable and skilled in navigating the specific needs and boundaries to be navigated at home.

The combat prowess inherent in every Get of Fenris Cliath is one that is hard-earned and, if they learn to appropriately harness their rage, often ascend to become unparalleled champions in their septs once they ascend the ranks to Adren and beyond — assuming they live that long.

Appearance

Extant Fenrir lineages reveal themselves to be massive gray wolves with broad shoulders and hard-set jaws. This trend, however, peters out significantly, given the diversity of their tribe members. The visual marking of their tribe members are what truly helps them stand out.

The tribe observes a skin marking tradition originating from packs among 9th century Lechites, where Fenrir, lacking battle scars for their prowess, took to their Galliards, adorning them with glyphery. These Get chronicled their deeds for all to see, with both ashes rubbed into fresh wounds to make them clearly visible. In modern times, this has grown to represent multiple kinds of tattoos across numerous cultures, with the glyphs appearing in the negative spaces between the tattoos.

To quote the late Mother Larissa: “Covered in Blood is the natural state of a Fenrir.” In ceremony, a Fenrir is nearly always marked with blood in some way, from adornments of glyphs touting their latest deeds to bearing the bloodspatter of their fallen allies (and their enemies) so as to gift the sept’s lupus with their scent.

Tribe Patron

Fenris is himself one of the original 13 Garou of the First Pack before; the one who held strength and honor most dearly in his heart. He and his wolves waged war against the ancient Jotunn, deep in the mountainous Fjords of Norway. It was here he learned how to think before acting and listen before thinking. Beyond a Warrior, Fenris was a believer in sacrifice, whose tactics espouse his own personal participation in battles. His chiminages to Gaia were of great personal loss, but also strengthened his packs.

All Fenrir espouse these values, that nothing in this world that is worth having is merely given, but gained through personal sacrifice, be it time, task, or blood, expecting no quarter, and giving none.

Character Creation

A well-made Fenrir is a fighter first and a lover second. Physical prowess matters more to this tribe perhaps than any other. Dexterity, Brawl, and Melee are great investments, with Strength and Stamina coming in a close second. A stoic tribe places very little stock in Expression; a Fenrir simply speaks their mind. Where you can however, give them a little empathy. This helps them read through those hard exteriors.

When it comes to Gifts, Fenrir are known for their unshakable will. Willpower, that is, Resolve and Composure, are key to using most of their Gifts. For other Gifts, plan to invest equally in Intimidation and Primal-Urge.

Outlook

The philosophical foundation of a Fenrir is one grounded firmly in materialism. That is, a Get will seldom concern themselves with the affairs of their afterlife and will often consider the things they will leave behind when they go. A Fenrir hero is one whose communities venerate them, whose stories are told, and whose values are upheld as philosophies by the families affected positively by a Fenrir.

The journey to finding motivation to equiring considerable effort on behalf of these warriors to make such a legacy. But, once established, there is no hesitation, no fear, when they take up arms to protect those they love most. This is where the stalwart, unshakeable resolve the Get of Fenris are known for comes to the surface, leading to the bloody tales of glory and unfettered violence that hallmark their mythology.

Spirit Affinities

Bear, Champion, Fenris, Wolf

[acquired-stardust]

Acquired-Stardust's First Anniversary!

It's the one year anniversary of Acquired-Stardust! A huge thank you to everyone who's supported us so far. Read on for some more detailed thoughts from both Ash and Larsa looking back on our first year.

Wow, so it's been a year already huh? And what a roller coaster of a year it's been, with so many more highs than lows. Larsa and I originally started Acquired-Stardust to help motivate us to experience some of the overwhelming amount of media on our backlog and to hopefully help share some enjoyment of things new to us that was deserving of it alongside stuff we already knew and loved. Two specific goals were to avoid dwelling on negativity with a focus instead on what's worth our and your time, and to avoid trying to quantify fun or quality with traditional scored reviews of things. In that pursuit I utilized some of my enjoyment of virtual photography (which started in part due to being a Tumblr user as far back as 2011), finally getting around to writing more in a public capacity and we even learned how to make gifs specifically for this blog. All that in and of itself has been really rewarding to do, but the reception that you all have given our posts has been overwhelming and far exceeded our wildest dreams.

Low points come with a silver lining. Dealing with our content (so far almost entirely visual works) being reposted without any credit or permission by large Twitter accounts has been frustrating, and necessitated the creation of a Twitter account of our own (which you can find here) to try and hopefully get out in front of stuff like that and bring more stuff that people might want to see to more eyes. The account has struggled mightily with visibility, but it's been a great reinforcement of our original choice of platform in Tumblr. Tumblr's community has an integrity and emotional depth not seen elsewhere, and the platform itself allows people to connect with the sorts of things they want to see much more organically without the heavy-handed forcing of algorithms incentivizing people ripping each other off. Tumblr users are the kind of people I want to make things for, and Tumblr is the platform I want to make things for. Sharing our journey through media worth experiencing with you has been and will continue to be an honor and a pleasure.

We have plenty more ideas for stuff to post. For one we'd like to cover anime much more frequently, though it's a crowded space with lots of very talented and dedicated people covering it. We'd also like to write more often about games and anime both, and have plenty of subjects in mind including various things of a wider focus than just singular pieces of media. We'd like to create a pinned post that has a directory of sorts with links to an about section alongside things like filters for popular posts and writing. We've also been thinking of occasionally reblogging some of our older posts to bring them to newer followers who might've missed them the first time around. Hopefully you all will continue to enjoy the stuff we make even half as much as we've enjoyed bringing it to you all.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for making this first year so special for us, and here's to many more. Treat yourselves to something nice today in our honor so you can share in our joy as well.

-- Ash I cannot believe that it has already been a year since Ash and I decided to start this blog together as a team. I suppose the saying must be true that time files when you are having fun because my time spent on this blog has a been a great experience. We started this blog expecting that our posts may never be seen by anybody and that was okay as long as the cool things we were passionate about had a chance to be seen by anybody at all even just one extra time. However, quickly our posts started to get some eyes on it and our fellow Tumblr users actually enjoyed the stuff we posted so far. My gaming background has been many RPGs, fighting games, strategy games, third person shooters, and then that extended further to other hobbies like trading card games such as "Yu-Gi-Oh!". Oh and I shouldn't forget to mention an unhealthy amount of monster taming games. It's cool to see on this community that so many of you love these things too. Likewise we have enjoyed when you all would share your feelings with us in replies or reblogs about the subject matter. Seeing what the subjects of our posts mean to you means the world to us. Personally I had never been involved on Tumblr much until this blog maybe due to my severe shyness. The platform to me always felt like something that passed me by back in the day like a ship in the night and perhaps people weren't active on it anymore. I was completely wrong in that assumption the community here is not only active everybody is almost unanimously incredibly thoughtful and nice. Sometimes the world can feel like a pretty awful place especially when you are disabled while living an alternate lifestyle. I think we all deserve some light to brighten things up in life. Thank you all for the support over the past year, it means a lot to us and we will keep working hard to keep bringing more to the blog. My goal is to keep spreading positivity and writing about more subjects to share with you. Please look forward to the future and let's all be kind. -- Larsa

[aenor-llelo]

the orphan's path team was aware of the shubble situation when she first mentioned it on her stream, and we addressed it on discord originally citing a lack of confirmation or resolution from enough parties. we wanted to see if there were more victims, if wilbur or someone else would be definitively named by shubble/himself/a source in their circle, and the possibility wilbur would be genuinely regretful of his actions as he has in the past.

wilbur and shubble have now explicitly confirmed him as shubble's abuser from last year. she and their friends do not accept his apology or how he continues to behave to other people. as such, I'm removing all instances of Lovejoy from my official playlists and the author team of orphan's path is discussing what to do going forward.

it's really disappointing to hear about this. more than one member of the author team, including myself, is a survivor of domestic abuse in some form. the experience of what has happened to the spirit of orphan's path due to the original creators is. it sours my trust for the smp/rp genre as a whole. orphan's path will, in all likelihood, remain the first and last mcyt fan creation I put my hands on.

obviously the word count alone can tell you how meaningful this work was to us for literal years. we held it and its readers in such high esteem we rewrote it twice trying to save it, but we cannot simply scrub the name of the man who so centrally wrote so much of the original story. we want to take time to find a solution that first and foremost respects wilbur's victims. thank you for your patience. we are so, so sorry that we must ask you for patience.