#absent uncle mumbo

[babysizedfics]

oh my gosh i also wrap my stuffies in a little blanket when i have to put them away😭 as for the crocheted red cardigan... i'm thinking mumbo? even if he is not a caregiver... he still has a close relationship with grian and wanted to let him know he accepts and cares about him big or little, so he made a little cardigan for grian's bear. even though it didnt turn out quite like he imagined... grian still loves it and refuses to replace it with something more polished. the slipped stitches are what makes it Mumbo's Cardigan and he wont have it any other way. -cran berri

OH ur a right genius u are

you reminded me to say ive thought abt him as part of this series already! mumbo is definitely aware and supportive of grians regression! so this is so so sweet thank u cran berri!!!

i also love bc he is a very artistic person that he is the Bad Crocheter bc he dapples in a lot of different mediums - but it is very funny to think he either

A) has never been a natural fiber artist so isnt too great at crochet and just does it to relax very occasionally. or

B) he followed a quick tutorial/learned the basics from cleo simply bc he literally just wanted to crochet this one thing for lil grian bc he had a Vision and couldnt not make this for his baby friend 😭 i like B, i pick B. also the blankie grian wraps teddy in is prob made from the same red yarn bc mumbo wanted to use the rest of it up!

im rlly happy to get to include mumbo in a headcanon :') bc i did think about it but decided i wont be using him as a babysitter in this series

the watsonian reason for this is as much as he loves grian and doesnt judge him for this - he is just a bit stressed at the idea of taking care of him in such a vulnerable state and honestly might just be a tad uncomfy with the whole little stuff. doesnt mean he doesnt support it or is triggered by it or anything, ppl are just different and he feels iffy being a big part of it. also i find it funny to imagine characters being wholly awkward with children/littles and not knowin how to act or talk around them and this is lol so that too

that bein said grian prob has been half regressed w him a few times and mumbo hasnt minded much bc its so similar to bein with adult grian! and if grian has slipped into full regression mumbo probably has been pretty stunted and nervous laughter and weird energy and knows now to just quietly hold grians hand give him a reassuring smile and walk him to a cgs base so he doesnt have to be awkward for too long

the doylist reason is i have no idea how to write mumbo and dont want too many more characters lol but i rlly like the idea of silly lil interactions w supportive but awkward i-dont-know-how-to-talk-to-kids mumbo that grian probably teases him about when big

i hereby christen him Absent Uncle Mumbo

[russeliarat]

Had this cute little prompt idea for Hylia’s Heroines about Sun and her relationship to Sky and how the other girls banter with each other.

EDIT: Part 2 is out! Part 3 (when it’s released)!

Sun plopped down on the log beside Athena, who was currently in the middle of a fierce card game with Aurora for a handful of Rupees.

“Have you ever though about marriage, Athena?” she fiened innocence.

If it weren’t for the masterful emotional suppression she gained from the War of Ages, Athena would have no doubt spluttered. It’s what Aurora and Dot did beside her. “What?”

“Would you ever like to get married?” Sun repeated. “Oh, or are you already married?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Betrothed?”

“Sun-”

“What’s with all these questions?” Aurora huffed, frustrated that she had lost her focus in coming up with her next move. 20 rupees were on the line after all. “Why do you suddenly want to know about her love life? Why not anyone else’s?” She flung her arms out for dramatic effect, careful not to reveal her cards.

“Because~” Sun dragged out her syllables, pushing one of her wrapped partitions of hair behind her long ear, “I know that Dusk spends her days worrying about those scars of hers, Lullaby is too busy dressing as a Sheikah to bond with any nobleman, and Tetra would rather be betrothed to a sack of gold.”

“An’ what about me?” Aurora jabbed her tiny thumb into the pink bodice of her dress.

“No matter how hard you try, Rora, we can all tell what’s going on between you and your Link, no matter how hard you deny it to him.”

Her cheeks went as pink as her hair, her smaller ears seeming to blend into her tight curls. Dot barked a laugh beside her, jostling the poor girl about.

Tetra, who was sat on a nearby rock, had been eavesdropping and raised her spare dagger she had been sent to clean in disapproval. “Hey! I have better things to do than chase some man around all lovesick and mushy! You didn’t even answer her question, anyways!”

“Yeah,” Dot grinned, forever jumping on the bandwagon for a chance to tease, “I, too, would love to know if this has anything to do with your own Link, Sun - uh, what did we decide to call him again?”

“Sky, you churl.” Aurora elbowed Dot in the side, eyes trained on her only four cards.

Sun stuttered, “W-who’s to say?” Athena placed an 8 of hearts onto the pile she and Aurora had collected, her eyebrow cocked all the while. “I mean...” Sun sighed in defeat,” Yeah... yes, it is. I just wanted to see how to go about it is all! Athena seems like the only one with her life put together enough to be interested in marriage...”

Aurora continued her intense staring match with her cards, “We’re all princesses, Sun. We have to go through this whole courting process and all sorts of legal mumbo-jumbo before we could even start dating anyone.”

“I think your forgetting someone.” Tetra had snuck up on the girl and spoke loudly into her ear, making her almost drop her cards across the table with a yelp. Aurora half-glared, half-pouted at the pirate. Tetra shot her a cheeky grin. “Unlike these prisses, I’m familiar with how non-royals date, and it absolutely isn’t like that.”

A finger made its way to poke Tetra at her hip, “I know how common folk get partners, too!”

“Yeah, but did your uncle ever marry, Aurora?”

“We’re getting off topic,” Dot sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her gloved fingers.

Athena tilted her head as she looked at Sun through her peripherals. “You are most familiar with your culture’s customs. It should be you to decide how you go about a proposal.”

“Listen, Sun,” Tetra sat cross-legged on the other side of Aurora, “If you think Sky’s right for you, then go for it! We’ll even do the whole bells and whistles to set it up however you want if it’ll help.”

Dot placed her head on Aurora’s shoulder, absent-mindedly pointing to a card that was subsequently placed down on the pile, “The worst he can do is decline.”

“Or stab you and take your money.”

“Tetra.” Three voices scolded in unison.

Sun giggled. With the most care she could put into the action, she took one of the blue feathers from behind her ear and twirled the tiny thing between her index and thumb. “In Skyloft, we give out partners one of our Loftwing’s feathers to propose. It’s meant to symbolise giving your beloved something precious and highly treasured - something that’s an extension of you. Nothing is more treasured in Skyloft than our Loftwings.”

“Sounds sweet,” Tetra hummed, observing the card Athena had placed onto the pile that left her with only a single one left.

“Sounds horrid for someone with a feather allergy,” Aurora mumbled as she slapped an 8 of spades onto the card pile with a smug grin.

Another giggle rung from Sun’s lips, “It’s a good thing Sky doesn’t have one then!”

“Indeed,” Athena gave her own subdued chuckle, “I’m grateful you have found someone worthy enough to spend the rest of your days with.”

“I wouldn’t ask for anyone else.” Sun hummed as she stroked the soft, blue fibres of the feather, a nostalgic smile tugging at her cheeks.

[thegoldenavenger]

IDK if im ever going 2 finish this so here's an unedited preview of an atla fic I was working on.

I'd definitely have to restructure if I want to finish it but here's what I got so far. Mostly just the gaang visiting past Zuko events

I.

"The Air Nation--"

"Nomads." Aang instinctively corrects at the same time Iroh interjects placidly.

"--must have something pointing to the Avatar's location."

"My nephew, when would they have had time to--"

"The cowards must have planned the Avatar's disappearance. There has to be something!" Zuko, because the small, bandaged child was Zuko, stomped through the Western Air Temple pushing open doors and sweeping dust from murals in aggravated gestures. 

Iroh sighs heavily but follows the boy. He walks like a shadow behind Zuko, hands folded into his sleeves.  Sometimes his gaze catches on a mural or shadow, but it never settles on Aang or his friends, no matter how they shout or call for attention. 

"What are you planning on finding here, Prince Zuko? The Air Nomads were peaceful people, they do not have a war room full of intelligence, nor a Lord's office of correspondence, especially not after 100 years."

Zuko whirls around to give his uncle an irate glare, not nearly as effective as the ones he would give three years in time. The bandages cling to the left side of his face, and if Aang squints he can see some kind of spotting through them. Zuko is breathing heavily already. 

"I will find something! Anything!" His hands fist by his sides as he snarls. "Father trust-- Father tasked me with finding the Avatar and I will." Zuko turns sharply and his fists tremble. 

"Of course, Prince Zuko. I merely wanted to know your plan of action." Iroh approaches Zuko gently, like a wild animal, carefully places his hand on Zuko's right shoulder. "This place is remarkably well preserved. If there is something to recover, you will find it." 

Zuko doesn't say anything, just nods once. His shoulders are drawn tight around his ears still. Iroh looks down at Zuko, tenses, and says more mildly than Aang thought possible considering: "Your bandages need changing."

"They can wait." Zuko says, shrugging off Iroh and heading into one of the Western Temple's many hallways. 

"This is weird, right?" Sokka says as Iroh follows Zuko away. 

"Why are we even here?" Toph asks, "This is the Western Air Temple, my feet don't lie, and we weren't anywhere close to here before..." she trails off. 

"Where were we?" Katara asks. Her hands have been hovering by her waterskins. 

"The better question is where are we," Sokka says.

"The Western Air Temple!" Toph huffs.

"No, I mean, yes, but Iroh and Zuko acted like they couldn't see us, and you know Zuko would've made a big deal out of us being here." 

"Not to mention Zuko is like, four years younger than he should be!" Aang says. 

Sokka and Katara turn confused faces towards him. 

"This Zuko is my age," Aang clarifies, "He should be..." and the thought escapes Aang, how old Zuko should be. Aang just knows that it isn't this. 

"Don't tell me this is some more Spirit Mumbo Jumbo!" Sokka throws his hands up in the air. 

"Maybe," Aang allows, "But it doesn't feel like the Spirit World." 

"Whatever, we aren't going to figure anything out by standing still." Toph marches towards the hallway Zuko and Iroh had disappeared in and, belatedly, the rest of them follow. 

As soon as Aang's foot touches the tile past the threshold, he is no longer in the Western Air Temple. 

"Okay, yeah this is weird." Sokka says. 

Aang has to agree. They're in the Dragon Palace just as suddenly as they were in the Western Air Temple. 

"Great!" Katara hisses, "We're in the heart of the Fire Nation! And for what--" 

"Shut up!" Toph interrupts. They all quiet and soon voices come into focus.

II.

"Please Uncle!" That... sounds kind of like Zuko. "If I'm going to be the Firelord one day, I should know what goes on in the War Room!" 

"I have already said no, nephew."

Iroh and Zuko round the corner, and once again they don't seem to notice the out of place group hovering at the edge of the hall. 

"But Uncle! I don't--I need the experience. I'm already so far behind, this will give me a real foundation! My tutors are..." Zuko trails off.

"He doesn't have his scar!" Sokka exclaims, pointing. 

"Sokka! That's rude!" Even though her hands still hover by her waterskins, Katara doesn't pass up the chance to berate her brother.

"What, they can't see us, apparently."

"Scar?" Toph wonders, and Aang opens his mouth to inform her but looking into both of Zuko's troubled golden eyes stops him. 

"Yeah, Zuko has a, uh, scar... doesn't he?" Sokka starts. 

"Well." Katara says, looking at Zuko with the same intensity Aang feels. "He doesn't have one now."

Zuko's face is unblemished and smooth as porcelain. His eyes are wide, his brows upturned. He's still Aang's age, which shouldn't matter but-- 

Iroh has stopped walking, and Zuko beside him. Zuko bites his lip and looks away and Iroh puts his hands on both of Zuko's shoulders. "Okay, okay. But you have to promise to stay quiet. No interruptions."

"Yes! Of course! Thank you, Uncle!" Zuko bows, quickly, obviously excited by the turn of events and the two pass by the gang without taking notice of them. 

As Zuko passes a shadow covers his face, falling over his left eye and Aang can't decide if it reminds him more of bandages or a burn. 

Zuko and Iroh pass through a door, and this time none of them hesitate to follow on their heels. 

Once again the moment they pass the threshold they are in a new place. 

"Oh, yeah that's a scar!" Sokka says. 

III.

Zuko ignores him of course, stomping his way down the gangplank of his ship into a port Aang doesn't recognize.  He's scowling, like always, and Iroh is conspicuously absent from his side.  He marches onto the dock work, catches sight of something and ducks behind a thick wooden post. 

Aang knows his friends are as surprised as him, and Zuko seems to be surprised at himself too, because he shakes his head and stalks forward again as if hiding had been instinct, not choice. 

Aang surveys the docks, tries to find what had startled Zuko, but a voice rings out before he catches sight of anything. 

"Zuko! Fancy meeting you here." The voice fills the space like oil on water and Aang turns to catch Zhao striding towards Zuko like he owns the port. 

"Zhao." Zuko says, begrudgingly, folding his arms across his chest. He catches himself and puts his arms to his sides. 

"Commander Zhao," the man corrects as he sidles up next to Zuko. Zuko rolls his eyes and continues forward. 

"I knew those two were in cahoots." Sokka points, rudely, at the two.

"Cahoots?" Katara asks.

"What two? Who's Zhao?" Toph asks, and Aang looks at Toph who has her arms crossed over chest, defensively. Aang blinks and slows his pace--because they're following Zuko, of course--so her shoulder brushes his when they step. 

"He's a jerk!" Katara says. 

"Yeah, he sieged the North Pole and killed, uh..." Sokka trails off, his face a picture of confusion. 

"I think... the moon spirit?" Aang offers, but he can't quite remember it. 

"I don't need an escort---Commander Zhao," Zuko yells, his voice cutting into their conversation. 

"Please. What trade do you think a banished traitor would be able to get without me here?" Zhao's voice was still oil-slick as it weaved through the conversation. 

"This is a neutral port!" Zuko hisses, "And our stipend is good enough--" 

"And that's why you've had to make twice the stops you normally do, or do you just like the view?" Zhao asks, and Aang sees him turn a grin towards Zuko. 

Zuko fumes, taking two steps away from Zhao and turning the full force of his glare onto him. "So you've been stalking us!" He accuses. 

"Keeping an eye on you, like I was asked to." He says, closes the space between the two of them again. "Listen, I'll negotiate a fair price for your supplies." He says, ducking his head closer to Zuko's like he's sharing a secret. 

"I don't need your charity!" Zuko yells and tries to put space between them once more. 

"And who's pay are you going to cut this time?" Zhao asks, "Surely your own budget can't take much more... restructuring. Maybe the navigator's. If it's enough to make him jump ship, then I'm sure you can step in and compensate. Well, not that he'll be able to find a posting elsewhere, serving on the Wani had become quite the black mark on your resume I hear."  Zuko's fists tighten, and he loses the fight to keep them by his side and crosses them over his chest. 

Zhao takes this as a victory, drapes his arm over Zuko’s shoulders like an old friend and starts steering him in a different direction. “Have tea with me, Zuko, we can look over your finances together.” 

“Tea sounds lovely, Commander,” Iroh’s voice cuts through the conversation as easily as the man himself inserts his body between Zhao’s and Zuko’s. Zuko’s startled face fades away as they step across the dock.