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starry-bi-sky · 6 months

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Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well:

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents.

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill.

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.)

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one.

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself.

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.)

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.)

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe.

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal.

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking.

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter.

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind.

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous.

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own.

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t.

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward.

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”)

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell.

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his.

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it.

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now.

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own.

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother.

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten.

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands.

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely.

It is a fast dream.

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods.

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him.

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal.

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train.

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.)

—---

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again.

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person.

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.)

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird.

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is.

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off.

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom.

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.)

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

-----------------

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #amnesiac danyal al ghul au #songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart #musician danny has my heart and soul #yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks #implied good mom talia al ghul #danyal is a momma's boy send tweet #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc prompts #dp x dc au #dp x dc fanfic #danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au #no beta no edits we die like danny fenton #poc danny fentons #i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on.#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense #ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later #morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it #since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous #phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:].#danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨#danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪#am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe #not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him

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turnaboutstar · 6 months

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autistic people when there's collectable things with tv shows with multiple generations of them:

#my litte pony friendship is magic #mlp #teenage mutant ninja turtles #littlest pet shop #lps #collectibles #toys #mainly talking about those things but if anyone wants to add other things please do!!#autism #self diagnosis #pls dont take this as generalizing I just really love collecting stuff based on my personal special interests but people who dont #are still autistic regardless also splatoon fixation has returned because of side order but still haven't played it bc I need to finish #the main story mode also got a tiny metal locker bc of splatoon from kmart for 9 dollars and its pink and cute also said kmart bc it still #exists in australia lmao idk about other countries but maybe also nz but not sure!!#edit: i have played some of side order!! its so funnnn

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dailyloopdeloop · 3 months

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DAY 97: CONGRATULATIONS, YOU WON!

#codacheetah #isat #loop isat #isat spoilers #twohat spoilers #isat act 6 spoilers #TEEHEE #god im so close to 100 days and this is what. the third human loop ive drawn? maybe? can you tell where my interests do not lie #also. im so close to 100 days drawing loop and i've drawn very little actually related to twohats. what the helll #i think it'd be so funnay if loop didn't stop in time. great job champ! you won!#fuck you looking crazy for!#anyways they get to have underclothes as a consolation prize since i didn't want to duplicate the cloak. siffys still under there lol #you all are spared from Regretful Loop Cleavage. sorry or you're welcome #i don't know where your interests lie #EDIT: IF U SEE THE UNEDITED VERSION FLOATING AROUND. NO U DONT

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maxedes · 2 months

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german terms of endearment for your fanfics

i‘ve recently stumbled across some fanfics about german drivers (mainly nico & seb if we‘re being honest) and quite a few liked to use german terms of endearment. thing is, that they mainly use words that aren‘t really used in germany & sound a little strange. like „liebchen“ which i have never heard anyone say irl & which frankly just sounds like bad german from an american n*zi movie. or „mädchen“ which just means girl & can be used as „mein mädchen“ (my girl) but does kinda sound like something your weird toxic first bf would say. so to make everyones lifes a little easier: some german pet names that actually get used with a little context:

Schatz (treasure)

probably the most commonly used term in german. everyone & their mom uses it for romantic partners. can be used in any situations. i think there are people who forget their partners name because they just call them Schatz. to make it even cuter you can say „Schatzi“ but use carefully since that could easily sound condescending. same goes for „Schätzchen“ which in theory makes it cuter but actually mainly sounds like a guy talking down on you.

mein Herz (my heart)

emphasis on the „mein“ just calling someone a heart is a strange thing to do. you can also say „Herzchen“ but same problem as „Schätzchen“

Liebling (my beloved, my dearest)

this is what everyone thinks liebchen is. from personal experience i‘d say it‘s a word more often used by older people but could work.

Engel/chen (angel)

actually alright. maybe also use „mein“ in front of it. „mein kleiner engel“ → my little angel

Baby / Babe (same as english lol)

gets used rather frequently. same implications as in english

Hase / Hasi (bunny)

not inherently romantic/sexual. a cute one.

Maus/i (mouse/little mouse)

has been vERY popularized by the kids™️ and i mean that in the sense that quite literally everyone & everything gets called „maussss“. maybe to the point where it‘s been a little overused.

Schnecke / Schnecki (snail)

or schnegge. but with that your easily in a little creepy territory. schnecki is kinda cute though. i think my mom used to call me that so it doesn‘t have to be romantic. also no, i don‘t know why you would call someone snail as a cute little nickname and no it doesn‘t have to relate to their general speed (walking, driving or thinking)

Spatz / Spätzchen / Spazl (sparrow)

i don‘t know what germans have with this bird but it is popular. the last version „spatzl“ is mainly used in southern germany. it‘s what my parents call each other so if someone tried to call me that my toenails would curl up and not in a good way.

Dicker (fatty)

not to be confused with digger/digga which comes from the word but is more used like „bro“ (yeas i know what it looks like a first glace, pinky promise thats not what it is). only fun if used endearingly.

Sonnenschein (sunshine)

for my seb girlies (gn). it‘s a pretty long word though so probably not something to call someone on a regular basis

in conclusion: most of them are still bad and maybe even a little icky. i think the real way to go would be an inside joke or just a shorter or cute version of their name. german really isn‘t the language to be romantic in, in spite of what göthe might what you to think. i literally couldn‘t think of any more so i googeled & saw some of the most disturbing pet names imaginable.

#i am so not the right person to do this oof #tbh i hate being called most of these so idk #but i think they work #feel free to ask questions or add you own #imo the best nicknames are still personal and maybe inside jokes #i should have done curse words & insult i am much better at those #and boy do i have a selection #might do that next #it it 2:30 am so this will probably get edited #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #nico rosberg #sebastian vettel #f1 rpf #fanfic #fan fiction #german

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khaotunq · 1 month

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One Year of Only Friends: Episode One Original air date August 12th, 2023

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jade-len · 9 months

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i adore how mxtx sorta flipped the idea on the whole top/bottom thing with svsss, and just BL relationships in general.

making bingqiu very open to switching, not making the "bottom" super feminine and actually leaning more to the handsome side compared to the "top", how luo binghe is manipulative sensitive and cries easily, etc. one of the main themes in svsss is literally about sexuality (and possibly even about gender roles).

as a queer asian man myself, i absolutely despise the "yaoi archetype" and it was one of the reasons why i avoided consuming BL media. hell, years ago when i first saw heavens official blessing, i mentally groaned and went, "ugh, let me guess, the bottom is super feminine and innocent, while the top is masculine and experienced." of course, that's not the case now, but it's disappointing how that thought was there purely because of the god awful way fetish-y media portrays homosexual people and couples. because, believe it or not, we are not assigned male/female typical gender roles just because one likes to top/bottom (and even then, it's not even like that! some people have preferences, sure, but it's not so strictly "i'm top/bottom")

so, while i absolutely LOVE the english novel designs (especially luo binghe's cute curly hair, gongyi xiao, etc, and personally believe a lot of the takes from the western artist on the designs are an improvement), i am greatly saddened by people subconsciously assigning shen qingqiu as someone more delicate and feminine and luo binghe as someone super masculine and muscly. like, if you're going to have luo binghe depicted as the western design (i believe this stems from binghe being applied to more western ideals for men, and, admittedly, i actually really love his design), at least don't make shen qingqiu feminine and delicate? don't have his appearance play into the stupid yaoi thing?

i get that people have different takes on svsss, especially how the western version depicts it. but, people just... seem to very over exaggerate the top/bottom roles when it comes to bingqiu (again, these two are, canonically, VERY open to switching).

it's weird, it's uncomfortable, and it comes across as, "so, who wears the pants in the relationship?"

so, can we please have more canonically handsome shen qingqiu? canonically beautiful and pretty boy luo binghe (they literallly state that binghe looks EXACTLY like his mom, su xiyan! while a more handsome woman, is still very beautiful!! plus it is stated several times that binghe is slim, and that shang qinghua made him that way!) or at the very least, a BL couple who actually look like normal people (ok thats a little hard considering binghe is literally supposed to be perfect) and not just a stupid fetishized version of themselves.

and no, i'm not saying that queer men shouldn't be feminine or men who are feminine shouldn't be in a relationship with guys who are masculine, etc.

TLDR: please stop twinkifying shen qingqiu and going against what mxtx defied for us queer men (the stupid yaoi roles). and for the love of whoever you believe in, do NOT think that i hate the english design or people's personal interpretation of characters, i just hate the subconscious assigning of gender roles to bingqiu and how media portrays and fetishizes LGBTQ+ relationships in general.

edit: also i love teardrew's (check them out on twitter!) interpretation of shang qinghua. while i do really like the the eng novel design's tiny scared hamster vibes, teardrew's version just radiates "up to no good, paranoid but suspicious looking bitch" rat man and i love it so so so much. i'm not gonna repost their art bc i don't know how they feel about that but perhaps you can search up "svsss designs" on here, you'll see it pop up eventually lol.

edit 2 (1/16): i just saw someone reblog a post (that im pretty sure was referring to this one because, well, if you saw it i think it'd be a little clear kahxj) that was about how bingqiu switching and completely eschewing traditional top/bottom dynamics was a fandom idea or smth? so now i'm wondering, since i swear i remember that they were open to switching, but it's just that sqq preferred to bottom and/or was just a little too lazy to top. plus, sqq is a pretty unreliable narrator who says he doesn't want something one moment and then he does. how could he say no to bingbing? esp if he seems to wanna try bottoming too. perhaps i'm mixing things up though, idk? so if anyone can find that passage that says he only and strictly wants to bottom or whatever please show me! but i think the point of this post still stands haha (i wanted to ask about it, actually, but when i clicked on the og post's user it turned out that they blocked me ? so that was a little surprising oops. hey if ur somehow reading this, im... sorry for making you want to block me bc of this post? akdhxjj)

#JOIN THE 'STOP TWINKIFYING SQQ' GROUP #did i make sense? i have no clue i just wanted to rant about this #i really pulled a cucumber bro there huh #this also applies to GL #thinking about it more #there should be trans men and women bl and gl #and not in a fetishy way #of course luo binghe is still the big strong protag and taller than sqq but come on #i dont believe luo binghe is a twink exactly?? maybe?? but just feminine in a historical chinese male ideals way #for edit 2:#i was just saying how it made me happy that mxtx didn't follow the yaoi archetypes and how i lov her for it <3 #never said bingqiu was never done before and COMPLETELY flipped it over skdhjx #but i do believe that bingqiu did a good job providing variety and such :)#same goes for mxtx's other works as well i love her stuff sm #svsss #mxtx svsss #the scum villain's self saving system #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #luo bingge #shen yuan #luo bingmei #bingqiu #luo binghe x shen qingqiu #danmei

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janadoesstuffwrong · 7 months

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Thinking abt the air nomads:

What if, after the war, once the dust has settled a little, Aang goes back to travelling, hoping that maybe he can find at least some trace of surviving airbenders. As an added bonus, he gets to do more of the exploring and wandering that he had to put on hold.

Toph goes with him ofc. She only just got a taste of real freedom and it was overshadowed by ever-present impending doom. While she's on speaking terms with her parents, she isnt quite ready to be back under their roof on a permanent basis. The rest of the gaang have their individual homes and responsibilities that they get back to, though they join for the odd field trip or adventure when they can.

So anyway, they're touring all over the world and over the years they notice just how displaced so many people have become. EK citizens who barely escaped the blaze but lost everything; FN military now decommissioned with no idea how to carry on; people looking for a new start in the hard-won peace. Maybe it starts with Toph heading back to Earth Rumble, where a group of young runaways scrounge for cheap fights to make a little money.

At each turn they find more and more people with no homes to return to and no family to protect them; runaways escaping the roles the war forced them into. Gradually, Aang and Toph start to see that they aren't so different from themselves. They just want a new start.

So they decide to give them one. They clean up the temples and set up villages in the surrounding areas (helps to be master earthbenders), where people can arrive and stay as long as they need. Travellers and refugees pass through in droves, sometimes choosing to stay and rebuild their lives there, sometimes continuing in their wandering with a guarantee that they'll always have a place to return to should they have the need.

Over time, the lemurs grow in number and even some flying bison calfs (hybrids with a relative species maybe?), can be seen in the skies. Whenever the founders visit, it isn't the same but Aang feels a little more at home.

The first time someone asks Aang to teach him his philosophies, and expresses his desire to become a monk, how can he refuse? Maybe it's a former soldier, somebody who's done terrible things, looking for a path to redemption. So Aang teaches him, and then he teaches others. And though they may not be airbenders, they are as earnest and faithful as any nun or monk Aang knew before. The temples become filled with new faces: Firebenders, Earthbenders, Waterbenders and non-benders all wearing Air nomad orange and yellow.

Aang always feared that it would be his responsibility to have airbender children, and the idea of forcing that on someone he loved terrified him. Maybe that's why he waited so long before acting on his feelings for his best friend, his travelling companion, his fellow-village builder and temple-restorer. How could they have a truly happy relationship with this pressure hanging over them? He wishes he could be content with the new way of things that he and his friends have created. But he knows that he can't be the last airbender forever...

Nobody knows why some children can bend the elements and others can't. Is it blood? Is it blessing? Is it the land in which you're born? Or is it the simple allocation of fates decided by the values and norms you're raised believing in? Is it enough to be surrounded by the culture and beliefs of the Air Nomads? Nobody knows...

All they know is that nobody sees it coming when the six-year-old daughter of two non-bender villagers from the Earth Kingdom and Northern Water Tribe sends herself flying twelve feet into the air with a sneeze.

#oops it became a taang au how did that happen #i just think it wld be neat if the air nomads worked more like irl monks/nuns #not necessarily celibate but still made up of people who choose to follow the way of life #instead of the iffy implications of all monks/nuns having no choice because they were born airbenders #i dunno it's iffy to me #taang #my posts #atla #atla headcanon #do we need to rewatch Ice Age 2 ppl??#repopulation is not a good reason for two people to be together!#avatar: the last airbender #i do also think that given them being nomads the fire nation probably want able to wipe the air nomads out completely #bu they just had to survive in hiding/ in a very diluted form #maybe like the sun warriors do #airbender!Ty Lee my beloved #also wld reflect the themes of unity vs division well if there were more than just airbenders among the air nomads #like how a waterbender can be a ruler of the Fire Nation or a Firebender can run a tea shop in the Earth Kingdom #toph x aang #edited cos someone got upset at my introduction and while i reckon they were willfully misreading i didnt want anyone to misconstrue #to clarify -> any child of aang's wld be an air nomad but there's no guarantee they wld be an airbender #esp if he had a child with an earth or waterbender #and we see how this had a negative effect in canon #hope that clears things up xx

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midnightclover · 8 months

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Summon Night: Swordcraft Story (ATLUS, 2003)

#my actual posts lol #haha what if i made a daily diary post thing like nico #..i was just thinking #today was a good day #and i thought of this song #ive been playing summon night swordcraft story a lot as of late.. though none today actually #its still on my mind though #i considered using dweller empty path's song flying through a stary sky instead.. but this is what i thought of first #i think it fits best to use it #i actually had to jump through some hoops to upload music!#cus my tumblr app is kinda old.. i cant properly upload music. i could only put a link #which isnt exactly ideal #so i tried in my web browser.. but maybe its cus i havent updated it in a while or maybe just cus its tor.. it didnt work #so i downloaded firefox and did it on there lol #now im editing it in my drafts back on the app #dont ask why im not just doing it on my computer... shes having some technical difficulties. we're working on it #but not today #...#today was pretty eventful.. even if not very productive. but ive never been a very productive person #we went and saw some light festival thing! it was rly nice.. a little simple at times but it was fun #we went and got some yummy snacks earlier too! tho ive already eaten them all hehe #and i started up animal crossing new leaf. i hadnt played it in ages! its startling how much better it is than new horizions.. imo at least #only problem is i couldnt make it the same as my island.. and i didnt remember why i named my last town #we searched for a while for some reference or somfin to name it after.. but we ended up just going with ''faraway''#cus i liked the idea of being asked where im going.. and just saying far far away #and as beth said it has a kinda fairytail vibe!#...only after i named it did i realize i accidentally named it after the town in omori. oops!#...im about to hit the tag limit. so whoevers still listening i just want u to know..#i love you. ok?#goodnight

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eri-pl · 8 days

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A portrait from the days of bliss

There is a portrait of Feanáro with his three sons, painted very shortly after the Silmarils had been finished. Maedhros was an adult already, Maglor was what in human terms would be a teenager, and Celegorm was a toddler. (Nerdanel and Finwë were away, visiting friends for a couple weeks)

There is, of course, the version of it that up to this day hangs in Tirion, after being taken from the abandoned Formenos. The official, well-composed, well-behaved painting.

But there's also another version. For, you see, it was in fasion in those days, to paint portraits that looked spontanous, as if somehow capturing a moment, intimate and unplanned. They often were composed of many moments, many expressions of personality that occured during the painting.

In the painting, as it was planned by Feanor, he is in the back, towering over his sons (Maedhros isn't much taller than his father, but isn't much shorter either, so a step was used to achieve the composition. The room is dark, but obove the prince there is a window, letting in the bright radiance of Laurelin, so that Feanor is in parts bright like a flame, and in parts covered in deep shadows. This is true for both paintings.

But in the unknown portrait his face is angry, captured mid-sentence as he was probably berating his sons.

Only Maedhros is well-behaved, standing calm in the front-center with his left hand at Maglor's arm (assuredly? threateningly?). The truesilver circlet bearing the gem (all three have such circlets) sits properly on his head, and his hair is well-braided, tied high with a crimson ribbon (who made it?), braids falling like lava a cascade from the top of his hair. The only spontaneity here is his right hand raised to fix the hair, the ribbon caught by a gust of wind, raised up, twirling at his wrist, messy and breaking the composition, the other end of it falling on his forehead, dying the light of the Silmaril red.

Maglor is standing there turned half to the side, rolling his eyes and clearly unhappy to be in the portrait. His hair is a wavy mess, half-braided, falling onto the circlet so that the light piercing through is dark, almost greenish even though his hair is dark brown.

Little Tyelco has a bird in his hand (how did he get a songbird into the portrait without his father noticing is not known), had the circlet in his other hand and very clearly tried to eath both, but at the moment captured by the painter the bird has just pecked him, the circlet is falling down (with droplets of saliva sparkling in the air) and Tyelco has the peculiar expression of a child that is just about to cry.

The other portrait shows them all standing proud and smiling and, to be honest, this is what they did for most of the time (first tyelco got pecked, some time after Maglor got visibly bored, and their father started berating him for complaining)

There is a portrait of Feanáro with his three sons, painted very shortly after the Silmarils had been completed, by a painter who had, to be honest, more foresight than manners. But not many have ever seen it.

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