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Rebels Georg

@kanerallels / kanerallels.tumblr.com

Christian, deep lover of Kanera and SWR but in a crap ton of other fandoms, fan fic writer when I'm not working on my book series. If you want to be on my tag list, send me an ask or a DM! If you're into an obscure book series, send me an ask, I might have read it!! (If I haven't, it'll end up on my TBR) Always happy to talk to new people!!! Absolutely NO NSFW YOU WILL BE BLOCKED
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muffinlance
Anonymous asked:

Kidnapped Zuko? Rescued by Gaang who dont know who he is and he has to hide his identity.

Okay, so. There’s already a teenager down in Commander Muttonchop’s brig. This fact is so far past concerning it’s wrapped around to let’s-not-think-too-hard-about-this hilarity, and Sokka finds himself grinning, and offering the guy a good ol’ fashioned Water Tribe wrist shake through the bars. They’re neighbors, after all.

“Hello, Fellow Prisoner. What are you in for?”

“I, uh,” says Fellow Prisoner, who is clearly undersocialized from his time in here. He’s looking a little grimy around the edges of his all-black outfit, and the bruises on him have had time to get newer, fresher bruises on top, which is just. That is all kinds of reassuring. Oh, and the giant fiery facial scar. Also reassuring. Though at least that one’s a few years old. So… inflicted when he was, what, Aang’s age?

So reassured, is feeling Sokka, for the Fire Nation’s upcoming hospitality.  

“Uh,” repeats Fellow Prisoner, who is uncoiling a little in the direction of Sokka’s offered hand. As if Sokka was trying to coax him out, and hadn’t just sort of forgotten he was holding it there while his thoughts were doing their downward spiral. But hey, one man’s desperate attempts to keep his cool were another man’s offer of friendship. Fellow Prisoner grasped his wrist and shook it, in both the most technically correct and least experienced Water Tribe wrist clasp Sokka has ever experienced. 

“Zhao thinks I was stealing military correspondence,” the guy says.

“Were you stealing military correspondence?” asks Sokka.

“Only his,” scowls Fellow Prisoner, to whom Sokka takes an immediate liking. “...What did you do? To get arrested. But not killed. He doesn’t usually…”

So, so reassured.

“Oh, you know,” Sokka says, continuing to shake wrists, because it is becoming clear that Fellow Prisoner has no idea how long this is supposed to last and Sokka isn't going to be the one to stop him. “The usual. Found the Avatar. Became traveling companions. Got captured doing something definitely heroic that did not in anyway involve excessive screaming of an unmanly pitch.”

“...The Avatar?” says Fellow Prisoner, who clearly knows how to focus on the important points.

“I’m bait,” says Sokka.

“For the Avatar.”

To be fair, Sokka is still a little stuck on that point, too. It’s been a few weeks, but he still wakes up too-hot in the night and wondering why the stars above him aren’t quite right.

“Yep,” he confirms.

Fellow Prisoner’s face does a thing. A sort of processing, processing, processing thing that involves progressively more scowling. “The Avatar left you? I knew the old man must be a coward.”

“So,” Sokka says, “about that.”

Fellow Prisoner drinks up Sokka’s story like a man who’s spent three years in a desert searching for water. 

- - -

(It’s been two and half years.)

- - - 

Their escape involves a significantly higher swords-to-escapees ratio than Sokka had anticipated, which is distractingly epic. 

Also, the last-minute bison save is both the stupidest thing his little sister could have possibly done and very welcome, which means that Sokka is going to catch his breath and let some of his adrenaline fade before channeling his inner Gran-Gran for a lecture. 

Fellow Prisoner sheaths both his swords. And kind of stares, rather than sitting down, so Sokka pulls him over before the bison turbulence (read: catapult dodging) can do the job. This does nothing to interrupt the staring. 

“Hi,” says Aang, looking back from Appa’s head. “I’m Aang! What’s your name?”

“...Li?”

Under the sunlight, Fellow Prisoner’s eyes glint gold. He is… very Fire Nation-y looking, now that there is enough light to see him. And he is warmer against Sokka’s side than anyone not feverish should be, even in the ridiculous heat these northerners call ‘winter’.

“Are you a firebender?” asks Aang, like that question hasn’t spent decades earning its status as an insult.

“Uh,” says Li.

“Great!” says Aang, who has already figured out Li-speak. “I need a teacher!”

On the deck below them, Zhao has gone from shouting to laughing. 

Sokka continues to be reassured.

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more?

pls?

So it was possible, maybe, that they should have listened when Li advised them—and by advised, Sokka meant at maximum volume—that, when being pursued by a naval commander, maybe they should consider not following the coastline on their giant white highly-visible-from-a-distance sky bison.  

In Sokka’s defense: following the coastline was the only way he could tell at a glance that, yes, they were going north, and not towards more giant koi and/or sea serpents of questionable ridability, Aang.

In Li’s defense: catapults. So many catapults. They’d flown out over a bay that had looked really small on their map, but felt much larger when filled with an actively shooting naval fleet. 

“On your left!” Sokka shouted. “Your left! Are you blind?”

Li growled something unintelligible yet uncomplimentary, and jerked the bison’s reigns. Aang was not steering, because Aang kept leaping in the air to blow giant fiery boulders of death off course. Katara was not steering, because she was wiggling her hands and trying to magic up some thicker cloud cover for them, with mixed success. Sokka was not steering, because someone needed to be hanging over the side of the saddle to yell where the next projectile was coming from, because he was really starting to think that Li couldn’t see well up there.

“What happened to them?” asked his dear sister.

And yeah, that ship was… kind of on a collision course with another ship. Multiple other ships, given how nicely they’d lined up this ambush-blockade. Said ship was smoking from the back, and was also distinctly smaller and frumpier than all the newer models it was barreling towards. Had some out-of-favor captain pushed their rust bucket too fast, trying to get in on the glory of shooting an endangered bison and a group of children from the sky?

Suddenly, the fleet below was a lot more concerned with scattering than with shooting. 

Aang floated back down to the saddle, breathing hard, and joined Sokka in the leaning-over-the-side crew. He stared down at the smoking ship. A portly old man on deck stared up. Aang waved. Sokka whapped his hand, but not before the old man waved back. 

“We do not—” Sokka started, only to notice that Li was tentatively raising his arm, too. “We do not wave to the enemy!” 

Li tucked his hand back at his side, and did not meet Sokka’s gaze. They kept flying. 

* * *

“Getting a little far out to sea, bud,” Sokka said, through a yawn. “So unless you’re trying to steer us straight to the Fire Lord…”

Li tugged at the reins, face flushed. 

The third time it happened, Sokka dragged him back to the Team Avatar Sleepy-Time Pile and took over.

Coastlines. Sokka had a reason for following them.

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reblogged

An OC ask to Fletcher: who's your favorite of the extended Fairbrew clan (besides Corli, of course) to hang out with? Do you have one you think you're closest to?

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Fletcher:

Yeah, I have a favorite: anyone but Vos.

*pauses, looks around, then continues*

…I “hang out” the most with Clo. She started it, back when we were kids. I was just sittin’ at a table, mindin’ my own business, and down sits this green-skinned girl, chowin’ down like there’s no tomorrow, talkin’ about how glad she was that I’d taught Vos a lesson durin’ Sneakery trainin’ earlier that day. Next thing I know, she’s draggin’ me along anytime she goes to town or to pick medicinal herbs or whatever else, she’s chewin’ me out anytime I get a paper cut, she’s buggin’ me to eat better and get some sleep and stop bein’ such a “grumper”- her word, not mine. It took me a while, but I finally figured out this was her way of bein’ friends. And it’s been that way ever since. Feels like she basically kidnapped me into it, but I gotta admit, some days I’m…kinda glad for that kidnappin’.

…Don’t think I don’t find her naggin’ annoyin’, though. And don’t tell her I appreciate it, ‘cause I don’t, and she does it too much as it is.

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I forgot I made a couple of mini vine compilations when they announced the end of vine

i don’t know how vine so perfectly encapsulated the best of humanity but that was a weird time

It was a better time

Vines were infinitely superior to TikTok.

Brevity is the soul of wit.

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