some words of encouragement from the gaang <3

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@braveshe
some words of encouragement from the gaang <3
If we’re so here to redeem Iroh on his past wrongdoings, then why is a clearly traumatized Native elder considered just pure evil.
[image description: a tweet from sarah montoya (@sarahcmontoya). The tweet reads, “if ATLA was written by native people, Hama would have had a happy ending because she is an elder who has been through a lot and hating her is something for white people.” end description]
09 KATARA ICONS , PART 2. free to use. free psds / border used from jaynedits to make icons.
watching the southern raiders and just. all those years, katara never knew that kya died because she said she was the last waterbender to protect katara. hakoda, sokka, and katara never knew until that day.
later. i’m gonna rewatch the boiling rock episodes and the southern raiders episode. again.
We’re on Sokka Feelings Lockdown tonight buds
@tideshe sent — “ MOM ! ” A YOUNG KATARA MAKES HER WAY OVER TO WHERE HER MOTHER WAS SLEEPING, TUGGING ON HER SLEEVE. “ MOM, THERE’S A MONSTER UNDER MY BED. ” BLUE EYES ARE WIDE AND SERIOUS, IN AN EXPRESSION THAT ONLY THE YOUNG CAN PULL OFF WHEN SPEAKING OF THREATS UNDER BEDS.
𝙝𝙖𝙠𝙤𝙙𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙨, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙠𝙮𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙖 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨. he always wakes like this — ready and willing for action. lately, his brow is more creased in worry than laughter. need demands he leave them again soon, and she knows it weighs on him. he needs to know they are alright. he needs to see, though he already believes, that kya can manage while he does what he must — while they both do their duty. “ 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚊, ” she whispers, rising from hakoda’s side, scooping up her smallest child easily. she holds her tightly, burying her face in katara’s sweet-smelling neck. when she shuts her eyes, her little waterbender — spirits help them all — is a babe once again. “ 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞? ” even with hakoda as chief, their home is small. katara’s bed is next to sokka’s, though her eldest slumbers on with tiny snores and tangled furs. kya mustn’t laugh — not with katara so distressed. she kneels down beside katara’s bed, setting her daughter on her small feet. their eyes can meet this way. “ 𝚗𝚘𝚠 — 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? ”
seeing their fathers again.
chieftans.
strength, a word that if it could conjure up an image would be her. strength is the way she carried supplies the first time he laid his eyes on her. strength is the way she was defiant in his requests when she knew they were not what she wanted. strength is the way she led by his side, equals. strength is the way she gave birth to two children, look at them now. leading the way for them to all return home. strength is the way she sacrificed her freedom, her life, without a second thought. strength is the way she is. she is strength. “ you could never be weak. ” he says without thinking before bowing his head to her ears so he could whisper. “ can i carry you ? ” at her nod, he sweeps her up, holding her close to her chest. “ you’re okay. we’ll be okay. ” and they will now.
𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨. her body fits against his, still just as perfect as their last night together. the night before the raid, she holds his hand and massages at the knots in his shoulders. their children sleep nearby, in addition to hakoda’s mother, so they do not speak. but they are near to each other, and they soothe until they sleep. she wants that again. she misses that every day — the way she can just be with hakoda, no expectations or requirements. kya will ask questions later — so many questions. for now she shuts her eyes and rests against him. she is too light, but he is as strong and sturdy as she remembers, if not a bit leaner, more wrinkles around his eyes and forehead. the years have weighed on him, as they have on her. when night falls and they are alone, she runs her fingers absently across his hand. she is clean — katara helps her — and wearing softer, kinder clothes for the first time in years, and the comfort makes her drowsy. until she feels ridges ‘round hakoda’s wrists she has not felt before. she opens her eyes, tugging him closer. “ 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞? ” they look like her scars — from bonds and harsh handling and chains.
👀👀 not gonna name names but SOME of u are sweet and kind and deserve the world and i am rooting for u
chieftans.
come home with me, it sounds like the first time they had met. he had been so eager, so immediately in love with her. he remembers the way she smiled, lighting up the entire southern hemisphere. the first time she laughed, the first time he made her laugh, the pride he felt. how it felt to lift the weight off her shoulders. she was always so strong, strong enough to survive even this war. of course she was. he always knew she was. his brows furrow, catching her when she trips, a smile to encourage her. “ are you okay, moonstone ? ” of course she is. he knows she is.
𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙, 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙. this nickname — only his, only for her. it almost makes her forget everything else. she grips his hand as tight as she can; she does not want to fall. but she still shakes — still trembles, head light. “ 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 . . . 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚒’𝚖 𝚊𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚍, ” she replies. she can never joke or smile through everything as he can. she lifts her chin and sets her jaw, and that is how she survives. she holds her family close, and she does what she must. but she tries here — she wants to keep being happy. “ 𝚒’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. ” if she says it enough, maybe she will make it true. she can’t think of anything else. “ 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. ” i’ll be alright if you take me home.
Just a reminder that I’m an Adult™ and if that makes you feel uncomfortable feel free to:
unfollow me
ask me to unfollow you
block me
I won’t get mad or anything. It’s important to make sure you feel comfortable and secure.
chieftans.
“ oh, you know, a boat. ” he grins before placing a kiss on her forehead. he looks behind him over his shoulder, seeing as the line continues to move. it’s getting close to the end. they should move fast. taking her hand, he gives it a light squeeze. “ we all are. but we’re going back now. come home with me. ” he tugs gently, desperate to get her home. warrior, you are so desperate to be loved and to love her once more. “ it’s time we all go home. ”
𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙢, 𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙚. they have barely none each other an hour when he starts — when he makes it his duty to pester her and also care for her; when he swears to her he’ll never stop. eventually, she believes him; eventually, she wants him; eventually, she laughs. and she laughs again now, though she swats at his shoulder — weakly, but a bit like her old self. there will be time to catalogue all that’s lost of her. for now, she is happy. “ 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝, ” she scoffs as always, smiling and teasing. she stumbles when he tugs, his hand in hers, but it’s not enough. she wishes she could be stronger, like she used to be. you’re stronger than me, he would say. it isn’t true now, is it?
EURYDICE (spoken) When you look at me, what do you see? ORPHEUS (spoken) Someone stronger than me, somebody who survives. EURYDICE (spoken) So why should I become your wife? ORPHEUS (spoken) Because I make you feel alive.
@chieftans what have you done to me
You know who I “stan”? My mom
It is perfectly acceptable to just write a starter for me at any time.
@warriorhe — WE NEED A HAPPY ( ISH ) THREAD
𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙣 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 — 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙣. hakoda is still fishing today — has been for nearly a week. their trips are longer these days, needing to venture out into further and deeper water, their fish drifting away from their villages, pushed out and away by the fire nation ships — the ash in the water, the disruption of their patterns and migrations, the death on the ice. hakoda will not send their men out alone, but kya wishes, not for the first moment, she had married a selfish man as she stretches quietly in the blue dark of their home. she dresses and wakes her son first, katara still too little, sleeping in the crook of gran-gran’s arms. “ 𝚜𝚘𝚔𝚔𝚊? 𝚜𝚘𝚔𝚔𝚊, 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 . . . ” she combs back his hair, whispering and placing kisses on his forehead and cheek. she wishes she did not need to wake her child — to put work on her small son, eldest though he may be — so early, but it is what they must do. and it will keep sokka busy, upset as he was to see his father and several other men of the tribe go out and leave him behind. “ 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛. ”