#hes so done with her

[maysrinn]

Hi I have another question but who is president in the other universe where Coriolanus stayed with Lucy gray in district 12, and if snows a peacekeeper in this au dose that mean Lenore dove gets into more trouble cause her uncle busts her out.

Hi welcome back!

1. I never really thought about who would have become president if Coriolanus had stayed in District 12 with Lucy Gray. One thing’s for sure: I wouldn’t pick any of the characters we already know, or even one of his classmates. Snow was uniquely sharp, but not uniquely evil, in my opinion. Anyone could have been just as cruel and power-hungry if given the chance. Maybe Dr. Gaul would have found another protégé after Coriolanus failed his little district test and never returned to the Capitol. The new president would likely be someone we don’t know, just as ruthless toward the districts, but without Snow’s sharp mind.

__________

2. By the time Lenore Dove is born and raised by the remnants of the Covey, Coriolanus isn’t just a Peacekeeper anymore, he’s the commander of District 12. And Lenore Dove? She’s a constant headache. She always manages to get herself into trouble, because really, what’s he going to do? Scold her? Put her in time-out? He tries, lecturing her endlessly and keeping her stuck in his office for hours, forcing her to listen to another one of his “valuable life lessons” about freedom, discipline, and responsibility.

But deep down, he’s exhausted. Lenore Dove reminds him so much of Clementine Auburn, wild and stubborn, and he had been genuinely relieved when his own daughter eventually grew out of that rebellious phase. Now it’s happening all over again, and Coriolanus knows he’s far too old and tired for this kind of nonsense. Half the Peacekeeper unit probably knows Lenore Dove by name and exactly where to find her when she’s once again caused some kind of chaos. Some of them have even made a game of it, betting on how long she can stay out of trouble before someone has to drag her back to the commander’s office.

Coriolanus: Tell me, Lenore Dove, what great threat to district society did you commit this time?

Lenore Dove: I sang a song. Technically, that’s called culture. Covey culture.

Coriolanus: You sang The Hanging Tree in front of the mayor. During the remembrance ceremony. In front of children. I thought we talked about this-

Lenore Dove: Children singing! Oh no! Next thing you know, they’ll be thinking too.

Coriolanus: Freedom without order leads to chaos. Chaos leads to rebellion…

Lenore Dove: here we go again…

Coriolanus: …Rebellion leads to ruin. I was there, You know this. We have spent decades building a fragile peace on the ashes of war… and you choose to sing it anyaway?

Lenore Dove: hmm It’s a good song. Catchy. Real earworm.

Coriolanus: The foundations of civilization are built on respect. Discipline. Stability. Not nostalgia for anarchy and bloodshed!

Lenore Dove: … we had a hanging last week… Sooo… no requests for The Hanging Tree at the Hob? Got it.

Coriolanus: This is not a joke!

Lenore Dove: you’re right, it’s a balled.

Coriolanus: I’ll inform your aunt-

Lenore Dove: so she can rip u a new one? Like last time?

Coriolanus: oh yes, perhaps I’m really into that-

Lenore Dove: whoah! to many information, I’m not trying to mentally picture something…

Coriolanus: *sigh* …One day. Just one day without paperwork because of you. That’s all I ask-

Lenore Dove: …admit it I keep u young, and in that case I’m here all week!’Commander’

Later that night he’s ranting and venting to Lucy Gray about everything while Lenore dove is sleeping safe and sound in her bed 🪿

[sapphicathenas]

anyone else thinking about effie spending 24 years watching haymitch completely fall apart. effie, who met haymitch by accident, who knows exactly what kind of person he is, who sees him every year on his birthday for 24 years and each year he’s drunker, each year he’s angrier, each year he’s faster to give up. and then they get katniss and peeta. peeta, who is kind and open and understanding, who refuses to give up on haymitch. and katniss, who is so much like haymitch at 16 that it hurts. and over the few days they’re together, effie watches haymitch come back to life. watches him try. watches him have hope. and then they get to keep not one but both of those kids. they get to come home. and then, less then a year later, effie pulls haymitch’s name at the reaping.

[humming-fly]

I love how Gerald was trying to keep Shadow from spoiling anything about the future meanwhile literally everything Shadow says and does around Maria is the biggest death flag ever

[blaithnne]

Live Mel reaction

[hinamie]

growth // decay

[abandoned-quiche]

I LOVE ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS BTW. I DO NOT WANT TO SEE YOUR HATE FOR THEM ON MY POST

[chloesimaginationthings]

Pomni and Gummigoo reunite in TADC!

[eighteenthofoctober]

When your Dad's boyfriend cheats on him with... Santa Claus!?

Merry Christmas Ace Attorney nation!!!!

[muffinlance]

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.

[t0bey]

“Reunion at Dawn”

happy 5th anniversary, three houses!!!

[thebreadmantm]

Post coffin Daisy my fucking fav

Drawing her so much thinner with the mussel atrophy almost broke me

[lazylittledragon]

i said that gale and cyra have disaster romcom energy and now it's all i can think about

[hinamie]

green

[swordmaid]

back to the shadows 🌑

inspired by the storm by pierre auguste cot, shri’iia and astarion running away from the sun bc he’s a vampire and she has sunlight sensitivity.

please zoom in to see the details! 🥹🫶

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Gregory easily could of defeated Chica like this

(Based of @/CenoCrocodile post)

[ditzyblues]

this was scarily in character for Casey and Foot Lieutenant. audio from TTG