#Just tribe things

[theriu]

I like to think that at least once, the Avatar cycle seemed to skip the Water Tribe—like people knew it was the water tribe’s turn, everyone was looking for them, the tests are done on all the kids, but like 60-80 years go by and no avatar until some Earth Kingdom kid shows up. People wonder if the cycle skipped a generation or what, but nothing serious was going on at that time so they shrug and move on.

It’s only many many years later that someone is researching Swampbender oral history and someone tells the story of “Ol Stinky Jess, she was a funny one, could light the swamp on fire an’ all sorts o’ shenanigans! Best catfishgator catcher in the tribe, she was” and thats literally it, she just lived a totally chill life in the swamp and nobody knew what an avatar was at the time so they just rolled with that funny gal’s odd bending ways.

[talesfromthegameff14]

Cast in Ice - Arrosez

They didn’t know why they hadn’t thought of it earlier, the sword that Egg summoned had sent a chill up their spine the first time Rose saw it.  There wasn’t time to dwell on it then, not with combat singing about them and death’s promise hanging in the air.  Here though, in the halls that had fostered their love of books and learning?  Here was a different story, a tale remembered from their time as a priestess calling to them like a siren.  Rose wandered the empty halls, opening holes in the stone walls to avoid detection where a sleepy librarian wandered in the early dawn.  The rock sealed up behind them as if it never moved, more than willing to aid the Boise de Coeur on their hunt.

The architecture changed as they went up levels and then again when they walked into the rooms that housed the tomes on the devotion of Halone.  This was one of the newer appearing areas of the subterranean library, remodeled to fit the architecture of Ishgard from whence the goddess came.  The story was an often told one on Hallone’s holy days, of how the goddess walked with Oschon to see the land that he made.  Now if they could just find the right book...  It didn’t take long at all, a half dozen or so tomes later and Rose tucked into a chair in a shadowy corner of the room with the book in hand.  They were careful as they turned the pages, the preservation spells here were carefully maintained.  Even with that extra protection the pages were still delicate, a slick of aether between fingers and paper a long standing habit they had even if it wasn’t needed for these books.  A smile crossed their lips as the story was found, a content sound rumbling in their chest as their eyes slowed to read instead of skim.  The tale started at the very beginning, when the raw stuff of star was molded into a place for the life that Nophica bore could flourish. Oschon’s heart wandered the star, setting his feet upon the road no matter what else called to him.  Not even the love of Llymlaen could keep the Wanderer from his lonely road.  Once, he invited Halone to travel with him, to see the world she and her brother had been born into.  The trip was a bloody one as her ambition turned towards combat, outfitting herself with a sword and shield carved from the ice upon one of Oschon’s mountain peaks.  Every new creature the goddess came upon was challenged to combat.  With each fight her sword, Excalibur, drank deeply of the blood of the creatures she defeated.  The essence of the fallen didn’t stain the sword and shield, instead it strengthened the brittle ice until it was harder than the finest steel.  Pride shined in the goddess’ eyes, the strength of her conviction was unshakeable and it showed in every step she took.  Until she was confronted with the rage of Nophica at the wanton slaughter of her children that is.  There is nothing like a mother’s rage and vengeance burned in the blood of the Matron that another of the Twelve would cast her creations into the ravening void to drift for an eternity.  It was Oschon’s guilt at his hand in Halone’s journey that brought the solution, the last of the gods born out of fire and magma to counter the bite of Halone’s frost.  Nald’thal, the Keeper of Souls gathered up the lives drifting in the void and brought them home to the aetherical sea to be born again.  For her own penance, Halone cast aside Excalibur.  Throwing it into the magma that Oschon formed the essence of Nald’thal from.  The sword was tempered in the blood of many and despite being doused in its opposite it didn’t melt upon contact with the lifeblood of the Star.  Instead it sank into the depths of the twin’s realm, to never be wielded again. 

Rose’s eyes lingered on the pictures that illuminated the story, telling a tale of their own without a need of words for one to understand.  It was the second to last drawing that kept their attention, the majestic figure of Halone throwing a sword of ice into the flames.  There was no regret in the goddess’ expression.  Justice had to be served, even among the Twelve.  The tool had served her well, but it was best to let it and the souls it stored go, so they too could move on from this life to the next. 

At least, that is how the tale was told.  But what if the sword remained intact to this day?  The resemblance to the drawing in the book and the sword Egg held was uncanny in its precision.  So much so that Rose was tempted to tear a drawing from the book, but they couldn’t quite bring theirself to do it.  Instead they tucked the book into their robes and stood, better to steal a book than deface it.  Particularly one that there should be copies of in the Temple of the Three.  If not? They wouldn’t keep it that long.  Right?  Right! 

Keeping their thoughts focused on the moment didn’t help contain the dread that curled in the pit of their stomach at the idea of Egg being caught up in that. A weapon that claimed so many innocent lives and almost caused a rift between the Twelve is not something for anyone to touch, particularly not a mortal.  A part of them hoped they were wrong even as they resigned theirself to it being true.  It was an answer, more than they had before.  Hopefully it could put them on the path of freeing the Captain from the net he’s caught in.  Hopefully. 

[demaparbat-hp]

Their actual first meeting in the Kyoshi Warriors AU!

Katara had her Oh moment before exchanging a word with Jian Li, and while she gets over it in time (or, at least, convinces herself that she's not embarrassed by her initial reaction to him) this quasi-interaction haunts her for the first couple of days of their stay in Kyoshi Island.

It's just not fair that the place is full of gorgeous people! Or that he's not only beautiful, but also kind and awkward and respectful and dorky and—oh, La—she's in trouble.

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

To all my fellow, “Zukka in the southern water tribe” enthusiasts

[harbingersecho]

"zuzu, you didn't tell your friends about me? i'm hurt."

[hishighnesstheprincess]

Guys I'm gonna be so fucking fr with you if this turns out to be real I'm fully giving up on these movies

[wickedcriminal]

(Tfw you're the most reliable person in the roster and you're only like 12)

Httyd 2 is where the Hooligans start to think Elder may be too carefree and naive to be chief, Snotlout is too gradious to do the job right, and find that they truly appreciate the wise, diplomatic nature of Younger. Maybe we should make the little guy chief instead 💁

Bonus:

#1 most irresponsible older brother 😂

(Speech bubble text beneath readmore:)

Hiccup the Younger: If I had a gold piece for every time Gobber told me to usurp my brother for the throne of Berk I'd have three gold pieces and at this point I'm starting to think he's being serious

Little Fishlegs: Well, why not? It's a very honorable position– and you'd be great at it!

Younger: Sure, but that's Hiccup's job. It's not like I WANT it. Besides, Snotlout's the runner-up heir, not me, so I'd have to challenge him, too. I'm in Last Place, Fishlegs. Maybe it's better that way.

Little Fish: You sell yourself too short. Most of the tribe would be happy to see you on the throne instead of Snotlout. Heck, they're prefer you to Mr. Elder! All the adults say Mr. Elder is too immature. Gobber even says they're going to approach Stoick personally about lifting your rank.

Younger: Very funny.

(Silence)

Younger: WAIT— ARE YOU SERIOUS?!

...

Astrid: Shirking your heirly duties, as usual.

Astrid: You know, maybe Gobber's right, and Minicup should usurp you and take over the tribe.

Astrid: NO— YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO AGREE!!!

[discordiansamba]

the other Zuko time travel AU idea is that when he travels back in time, he ends up right back where he started a year ago when Aang came out of the iceberg... except he arrives two years early, right after the men leave the Southern Water Tribe.

and by that I mean, he lands face first in the snow, panics and ends up playing dumb. yes, he's Fire Nation. no, he doesn't actually know how he got here either (not technically a lie). no, he's not here to harm anyone and he wouldn't want to. he's working against the Fire Nation. Promise. For real.

And it's... a little hard to take the guy who just manifested in the middle of your village and faceplanted in the snow as a threat. Zuko figures well. fuck it. Aang's going to come out of that iceberg eventually. He might as well stick around here. What else is he going to do? Besides, they look like they could use the help around here... and if he's being honest, he's still feeling pretty guilty about the whole. ramming his ship into their village thing.

Hey, maybe he can even give Sokka some warrior tips- and Katara some waterbending tips. He remembers some of the katas he saw her practice. This could work out great!

(also Sokka and Katara are so small. holy shit.)

you've heard of (character) adopts Zuko. Now get ready for Zuko adopts Sokka and Katara.

[bucephaly]

It's kinda shocking to me how few people seem to know how prevalent the 'my great grandmother was cherokee' myth is and how it's almost never actually true, especially when it comes with things like 'never signed up' or 'fell off the trail' or 'courthouse burned down destorying the documentation' etc etc.

People just don't even seem to know the history like.. when the Trail happened. My great great great grandfather was 2 years old during Removal in 1838, so peoples 'my great grandmother hid in the mountains!' is so clearly wrong. And we have rolls. From before and after removal, rolls done by cherokee nation and others by the government, rolls that were not stored in one random flammable courthouse. It's not difficult to find the actual evidence of ancestry.

And just.. there are lots of ways those family stories get started. It was a practice during the confederacy to claim cherokee ancestry to show one's family had 'deep roots in the south' that they were there before the cherokee were removed. Many people pretended to be cherokee and applied for the Guion-Miller payout just to try to steal money meant for cherokees - 2/3rds of the applicants were denied for having 0 proof of actual cherokee ancestry. [We even see lawyers advertising signing up for the Miller roll just to try to get free money.] And the myth even started in some families in the cherokee land lotteries, where the land stolen from us was raffled off, including the house and everything that was left behind when the cherokees were removed. We have seen people whose families just take these things stolen from the cherokee family and adopt them into their own family story, saying that they were cherokee themselves.

If you had some family story about being cherokee and you wanna have proof one way or the other, check out this Facebook group run by expert cherokee genealogists that do research for free. Just please read the rules fully and respect the researchers. They run thousands of people's ancestries a year and their average is only around 0.7% of lines they run actually end up having true cherokee ancestry.

[guardian-of-da-gay]

simpler times

[ambriel-angstwitch]

Sokka: I have decided I want to get cremated

Zuko: Like when you die?

Sokka: No whenever just surprise me.

[demaparbat-hp]

Zutara makes a statement.

[efingcod]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

He was just Simon to you. Just a neighbor at first. Someone you waved to at the grocery store.

Occasionally, you'd catch him sitting in his window reading a book and drinking tea. He was someone you wondered about.

Always had a hello for you, but you struggled to find a foothold for a conversation.

Then he invited you over one night for dinner. His house was not what you expected—filled with books and vinyl. The walls covered in framed concert posters, old oil paintings, and watercolors. There was an album on, low enough to talk comfortably over. It was there to fill the space. You were sure you recognized the beat but couldn't quite place it.

At the time, you didn't know that it was one of his habits. Fill his empty home with a soft sound to try to drown out the quiet.

Or his thoughts.

Where his thoughts drifted to in the silence when he was alone, you didn't know. Didn't talk about it, but you could make your own assumptions. As soon as you saw the scars, you had an idea of what kind of life he led before. But he never talked about it, and you never asked.

Thanks to @ohgeesoap for the inspo! And for listening to my nonsense on discord. 💙

[dialga64bitz]

Aughhh brynth angst with a song that hits close to home.

[fipindustries]

people constantly talk about making a little middle age peasant boy try a can of monster or whatever to give them cultural shock but one thing i genuenly wonder about is how they would have reacted to modern artstyles, particularly cartoon and anime ones.

like, we can see anime girls or random fanart on tumblr and think nothing of it because we grew up in a cultural context where they were either the norm or we saw the artistic evolution from the style we grew up with into the current styles. but like imagine presenting a victorian child (whose only exposure to comics might have been the yellow kid and hasnt gotten to see the creation of the rubberhose style which would evolve into the disney style which would later inspire osamu tezuka who would set the foundations for the anime style that would evolve across half a century into moeblobs or whatever) to an image of panty and stocking or dragon maid.

would he be able to parse that this is supposed to depict people? would he think they look attractive or that they look like deformed homunculi. would this little german boy, fresh off the coal mines, be able to appreciate that characters like the powerpuff girls are supposed to look cute? that the designs of the characters in arcane are meant to be compelling and aspirational? would hans who is two months away from dying from tuberculosis, think that the simpsons look like incoherent doodles from someone who has no idea how to draw? would he understand the stylization in the way that lisa's and bart's hairline fades into their heads or think they are disturbingly mishappen? would he be able to understand that bugs bunny is supposed to be a rabbit or would the proportions of his limbs throw him for a loop? he would probably be able to understand furries, after all anthropomophized animals are something that human culture has had since the very beggining, but would he have it within himself the capacity to get as obsessed as kids today get over them? we have to remember we grew up in a culture where humanized animals, specifically depicted in a semi disney-cartoonish style, has been the main component in a little kid's media diet, but would this kid, who at 12 years of age has never seen a sparkle dog, be capable of being as enchanted by this as kids today?

these questions keep me up at night.

[hopkei]

Kentaro-senpai, please take good care of Yusei~