Sliemon_Floof
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“I see.” Zuko closes the scroll. “Is the Water Tribe sending a replacement?”
“Uh yeah,” Sokka gestures to himself dramatically. “You’re looking at him.”
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Bookmarked by Sliemon_Floof
08 Jun 2026
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When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.
Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.
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Bookmarked by Sliemon_Floof
07 Jun 2026
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Arthur grins at him, waves his chubby hand. "Father!" he says, because he knows he should be formal with his father. There is no Pa here, no Dad or Da.
There's something shiny on his father's head. He points to it. "What's that?"
"Prince Arthur!" hisses the woman holding him, but his father only chuckles. The woman relaxes, just slightly.
"It's a crown, my son. One day, you will wear one just like it."
Arthur tilts his head, curiously. "What colour is it?" He thinks it's grey, just a shade off of the silver of the swords. It's the same silver-grey as half of the household's shiny jewelry, a not quite true silver. He doesn't think he likes it.
"It's gold," says his father. "There's a lot of gold here in Camelot, my son."
Arthur nods his head, and labels that silver-ish colour gold in his mind.
(Or: in a world where you can't see the colour of your soulmate's eyes until you meet them, Arthur can't see gold, and it makes his life as a prince much more difficult.)
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Bookmarked by Sliemon_Floof
31 May 2026
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Duke Ben-something-or-other clears his throat and looks Merlin up and down. “Apologies, my lord, I have not introduced myself. I am Duke Benedict Earl James the Fourteenth." He stands and bows.
“And I’m Merlin.” Merlin scratches his armpit.
Arthur rolls his eyes. “He means your title, idiot.”
“Oh. I’m the Court Jester.”
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Bookmarked by Sliemon_Floof
31 May 2026
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A hunting trip. A bad feeling. An ambush.
An arrow, straight through the chest.
Merlin is dead. Until he isn’t.
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Bookmarked by Sliemon_Floof
31 May 2026