we_are_made_of_star_stuff



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    And herein lies the issue:

    Percy isn't as human as he once used to be.

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    30 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Based on the question in the post-campaign wrap-up about what would have happened if Scanlan hadn't destroyed Percy's gun. What if Orthax was still around during the Chroma Conclave arc? A canon divergence in which Percy's trying to walk a very fine line while maintaining control...

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    16 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 46

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    Sometimes there are moments like this one, where her future seems to mock her more mercilessly than others. They cannot know how effortlessly guilt will smother any love that gets too close, like flames leeching off available oxygen, or understand the cold resignation of a future of your own choosing, one that ends on the wrong side of a firing squad.

    They cannot know how much it aches, at every single moment but especially this one, to have the one thing you’ve always wanted always close enough to touch but forever just out of your reach.

    -

    or, a series of forbidden touches and what-ifs.

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    15 May 2026

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    “How have you been?” his doctor asks him after a moment.

    “Fine,” Roy responds, calmy.

    He is, really. Mostly he feels numb. And tired. And his scars hurt, sure. On the whole, nothing out of the ordinary.

    “Have you been experiencing any pain in the areas with scar tissue?”

    Every waking moment. But it’s fine. Really.

    “Not much.”

    Harris frowns. “I want to help you, you know,” he tells him.

    “I know,” he brings himself to say. His doctor sighs heavily.

    “How are things at work?” Harris asks, after a minute.

    Roy has to look away, suddenly. It doesn’t take long for the numbness to wash over him again though, thankfully.

    “Fine too.”

     

    (Or, Roy's still healing wounds, excessive work and an argument with his Lieutenant slowly take their toll on him.)

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    04 May 2026

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    A realization that’s been lapping at the edges of Sokka’s mind all night finally crashes over him in a wave. “You really hate yourself,” he says slowly, as the cold understanding sinks in.

    Zuko’s glare could melt glaciers. “You wouldn’t, if you’d done all the things I’ve done?” he says, which would be fair, except — it’s not just about the things Zuko’s done, is it? It’s also about the things he hasn’t. Zuko hates himself for things that are his fault, and things that aren’t. For who he is, and who he hasn’t managed to be.

    And Sokka can see, with sudden, sharp clarity, that if he were to plot the strength of Zuko’s self-hatred alongside the strength of his bending over time, the two lines would hug in almost perfect sync. Which leaves Sokka with only one question: whether someone’s self-loathing could run so deep and unrelenting that it sustains their bending for the better part of a decade.

    The night before going in search of Sun Warrior ruins, Zuko starts to doubt that hatred is the source of his bending after all. Sokka helps him figure out what it really is.

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    28 Apr 2026