#also spontaneously decided to give her another scar. this one is on the back of her right hand

[raichett]

I posted 572 times in 2022

That's 572 more posts than 2021!

69 posts created (12%)

503 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@elytrans

@elytrians

@cocoabats

@the-final-sif

@bdoubleowo

I tagged 572 of my posts in 2022

#mcyt - 431 posts

#grian - 262 posts

#fanart - 252 posts

#goodtimeswithscar - 215 posts

#hermitcraft - 147 posts

#double life - 115 posts

#third life - 90 posts

#hermitcraft season 9 - 86 posts

#desert duo - 79 posts

#lmao - 75 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#the nature of the traffic smps make it so that this kind of greek tragedy storytelling happens spontaneously viscerally and heartwrenchingly

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Grian is not giving up his flat for anything: not the strange sounds, not for things going missing, not for things appearing that weren’t there before. Nah-uh, not happening. 

Not even for the elven king coming in through his closet. Don’t you know what rent is like nowadays?

129 notes - Posted July 19, 2022

#4

A Special Concert

This flash fic is inspired by a comic strip done by @0xeyedaisy, which can be found here. Thanks for ripping so many people’s hearts out.

The song Ariana sings is Dark Dance by Burn The Ballroom, which is an absolute banger and can be found here. This is my agenda for getting more people aware of this incredibly underrated band.

This flash fic can also be found on AO3 here.

Content warnings: canonical character death, canonical suicide, it’s the Third Life finale, you know what that means. 

---

A SPECIAL CONCERT

Scar’s still alive when Ariana stumbles to his side, falling to her knees in the sand. It’s dry under one knee and wet under the other, the sand turning red as Scar leaks blood in a steady flow, spreading around him. Her trembling hands hurt. She thinks one of her knuckles might be dislocated. Scar clumsily takes one of her hands and she lets him, gripping tight with her bloodied fingers. Ariana’s heart doesn’t feel like a heart where it beats inside her chest; it feels like an empty space rattling about inside the cage of her ribs. Broken, she thinks, distantly. Once, she would have turned that thought and image into a lyric.

She wants to move, wants to close her eyes, block out the sight of Scar – Scar – dying in front of her of the wounds her hands gave him. She wants to be a coward for once in her life as the reddish haze lifts from her mind. It’s a bit like waking up from a nightmare into another nightmare, this one worse, this one real.

She swallows and stays at his side instead, keeping her eyes on his, red on red as red pools around them. It’s the least she owes him. The spectators are still chanting, but quieter, now, their murmurings wordless like how the voices of the crowds from her shows became wordless in the roar of pure overlapping noise. She misses those days, back when her greatest worries were about stage equipment and travel logistics on tours, not – not death and destruction and the curse that has claimed all of them and won.

“Hey,” Scar says, softly. His breathing isn’t right and it’s making his words hard. Ariana can see where her fists broke his ribs by the dents and lumps on his chest. She forces herself not to look away. “Before I completely pass out and die…” It’s so matter of fact, is the thing. A scream burns in Ariana’s throat, unreleased, as she leans in a little to listen to Scar’s last request. “Could you sing me a song?” Oh. “I never… got a chance” – he pauses to cough, turning his head to splatter more blood on the sand – “to hear you… sing…”

Ariana’s grief writes itself across her face. “All right,” she says, forcing a smile as she holds back tears. Her sharp teeth have never made her look traditionally pretty, and most of her old promotional posters had her with a close-lipped smile, but Scar has never flinched at them. It was the first thing she decided she liked about him, back then, when she grinned unthinkingly and he did nothing more than blink and grin back. “A special concert just for you.”

She starts to sing, one of her older songs, the ones she wrote without her agent reviewing them and nitpicking the lyrics. More alternative rock than the pop rock of her most famous hits, but it comes from the heart, and she can give nothing less to Scar to take with him to whatever comes next.

Scar finally closes his eyes as she gets to the end of the second verse; “I see your face in the firelight, I know that it’s fine,” – she stares right at his face, grey and going greyer – “‘cause in the dark of the dance here, you’re already mine…”

Overhead, the late afternoon sun is blazing down on her back, her shoulders and arms and neck burning even more. She’s already got sunburn, skin peeling at the edges from the lack of care being Red brings, the way it’s everything and nothing, neglect and passion in a double-edged blade.

The chorus escapes her throat too easily, old muscle memory keeping her singing as Scar starts to go still. “Sing with me in the dead of night, a break down beat keeps my heart in time.” She stops leaning over him, slumping her weight back on her aching legs, even as her eyes remain glued to his face, his almost-peaceful face. “I love about what I love about you, angel…”

She ends the chorus with another repetition of its two lines and then, her voice wobbling, finishes the rest of the song. By the time it’s done, Scar’s hand has started to cool in hers. Her fingers trembling, she lets it go, carefully placing it to lie limp on the sand.

And that’s the end of the show, goodnight everyone! she imagines herself saying, as she’s said so many times before, holding out her microphone to her screaming crowd late into the night, body flushed and aching with the high of the performance, trembling with adrenaline and ready to crash backstage from tiredness. Goodnight, goodnight! And have a safe trip home!

She rises to her feet. In a way, tired and shaking and jittery as she is, the murmurings of the spectators surrounding her – one voice louder now, she thinks deliriously – it’s almost familiar. It’s almost like the end of a show.

She raises her head mechanically from Scar’s body to the edge of the cliff, just beyond the cacti ring. She knows just what the final song should be. As she takes her first steps towards the cliff, the spectators get louder, seemingly in agreement with her. Her fingers twitch, her hand curling around thin air as though she were fiddling with her microphone, a nervous habit she developed when she first stepped foot on the stage.

“Goodnight, everyone,” she whispers when she’s on the ledge, staring at the setting sun as its rays bleed gold and orange across the ground. The spectators chant. The imaginary crowd roars applause in her ears. “… Goodnight.”

140 notes - Posted September 2, 2022

#3

with all the excitement about the rift I just feel like we forgot that the entity literally has flesh inside of it far too quickly lmao

149 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

#2

Heartbeat

Here, have some Scarian flash fic. It’s not long enough or developed enough for me to post as a oneshot, but I guess if I collect enough of these I’ll probably make an AO3 series for them.

[tosses this and runs]

EDIT: can now be found on AO3 here.  ---

HEARTBEAT

Scar’s bedside clock is fully into the moon half of its display, maybe close to midnight, and he thinks he might be slowly coming undone. 

The warm dark of his bedroom flitters around him, broken only by the glow of the clock in the illuminated item frame and the spots on his ceiling from the glowstone streetlamps outside seeping in through the gaps at the top of his curtains, and he cannot fall asleep, not with his soulmate’s fingertips touching where they are.

Scar mirrors them, his mysterious soulmate, who he so often feels press against his neck as they are now, checking his pulse. He feels the flutter of their own heartbeat under his fingers, a double echo to his own, naturally faster, and wonders.

Are they both lying like this, in bed, their fingers to their pulse and each other’s heartbeat filling their ears? Or is his soulmate somewhere else, sitting or standing – heck, maybe it’s even day on whatever server they’re on, not night-time at all – and paranoically checking for signs of life as they fiddle away with a redstone mechanism or brew up some potions or stare thoughtfully at a block palette set or do any other mundane thing in their life far away from him?

A skeleton rattles about outside, proof that he’s once again missed a spot when lighting up his base. Scar barely hears it. He breathes in tandem with his soulmate, their lungs expanding and contracting together, breath in their noses and their throats. It’s indescribable to explain how it feels to be breathing together with someone.

It’s probably his fault they check he’s well so often, what with his habit of dying all the time. They must feel it, surely, though, when he respawns with nothing but resigned humour at his own bad luck, or at worst annoyance at the inconvenience or the loss of his items. They would know not to worry too hard over Scar. It doesn’t stop them, though, and often he’s felt their stomach dropping or fear clench inside of them when he has one of his moments. So often, he’s wished that their bond was a different type, like mind-link, or dream-sharing, but then moments like this happen, and he’s reminded why he would never switch the touch-bond they have for any other kind.

Scar feels his soulmate’s fingers smooth over his neck, creeping up to his face – their face, really – and then the unmistakeable sensation of a palm cupping his cheek gently has him aching as he lies there in his bed, staring up at the lights on the ceiling and wishing they were the stars between worlds, streaks of light slipping by as he travels towards his soulmate. His heart yearns.

Scar moves his own hand, bringing it up to his face – but this time he doesn’t mirror his soulmate. Instead, he places his hand over his chin and mouth and nose and kisses his own palm. The twitch and tremble of his soulmate’s fingers against his cheek has him smiling as he does it again, and again, and again. He thinks he can feel their heart flutter in his own chest, rabbit-fast, maybe bird-fast, and he grins against his palm, knowing they can feel the movement of his lips.

A pause, and then the back of his other hand, currently resting on Jellie as she purrs lazily, curled up and dozing beside his hip, has a gentle pressure against it, warm and hesitant, but careful and earnest.

Scar would be a fool not to know that he’s being kissed back.

153 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So, I’ve been thinking a fair bit recently about how the Hermitcraft servers, in-universe, actually function on a social and micro-cultural level. 

A list of real life facts:

1. They have unlimited respawns on Hermitcraft. Death is generally either funny or an inconvenience, and pranks resulting in death are very much allowed, even fairly common. Scar, for example, in his Hotguy persona, literally goes around and shoots people with his bow for fun (and it’s considered a little rude to not die if you’ve been Hotguy’d). 

2. Hermits are invite-only and it’s a rather exclusive server; if a (rare) guest is whitelisted, it is only temporary. Many new Hermits are suggested and supported by an already existing Hermit, and there is a phase where a potential new Hermit is researched before any invite is sent. Once you’ve received an invite, there’s no taking it back, and there’s no probationary period. Hermits (and potential Hermits) are not obliged to either accept nor to stay, however! Many former Hermits have left amiably, and some have even come back after missing a season or two, like Keralis.

3. When it comes to server-wide decisions, everyone has to agree or else it won’t happen. It’s quite literally all-or-nothing on Hermitcraft. And everyone has a say and everyone’s voice is weighed the same, no matter how long or short they’ve been there. 

4. Many Hermits are pioneers or big names in their field (Doc and Tango in redstone, Grian and Scar in building, etc.), or else have been around in MCYT circles for a long time (e.g. Etho and Xisuma). This is not true for every Hermit, but there is distinctly an element of this in the line-up as a whole. It is also very common for Hermits to ask for help/opinions from other Hermits whose specialities are different from their own.

5. Mega-builds and mega-projects are the norm on Hermitcraft. It’s generally expected for a Hermit to take months and months on creating a starter base, then a mega base, at least one shop, usually a mini-game or two for server-wide events, etcetera etcetera. Not every Hermit does this, or does this every season, but most do.

6. Hermitcraft has very, very few rules: griefing is allowed, stealing is allowed, etc. No, really! You can do just about anything on Hermitcraft - so long as you’re prepared to deal with the consequences, and to make reparations if you actually hurt someone’s feelings.

7. It does, however, work on what are called “gentleman’s rules”: that is, if you make a mess, you clean it up, basically. If you prank someone, expect a retaliatory prank, which you have to take in good humour. If you destroy (by accident or design) someone’s items or builds, you’re expected to replace/reimburse/help set it to rights. The entire Hermitcraft economy (the shopping district) works on an honesty box design. Good sportsmanship is the name of the game on Hermitcraft. In the words of Grian himself: “We prank hard, but we clean up harder.”

8. As touched on before, no one on Hermitcraft actually has authority over anyone else. Some people have admin access (Xisuma, Tango, Joe Hills, etc.) but everyone’s voice weighs the same, even if some people have stepped up to take the lead when it comes to the engineering minutiae of maintaining a very popular server.

9. Every Hermit in the current line-up (Season 9 at the time of writing this) is an adult. I can only think of one person who was not an adult when they joined Hermitcraft and that is Mumbo Jumbo, who was 16 or 17 at the time, I think. Most of these people have life experiences and careers before MCYT. Some of them have only recently ceased to be part-time youtubers/streamers and change to full time as they quit jobs to pursue it (e.g. Cleo, Impulse, etc.). 

So, what does all this mean in-universe? Well... 

- Death is temporary, and very little weight is assigned to it, save that if you kill someone for a prank, expect to be pranked fatally in return. There is very little angst to be mined here.

- The Hermits’ expectations of other Hermits generally boil down to “good sportsmanship”, “willing to lend a hand/their expertise if they’re open to doing so” and “willingly accepts consequences for their own actions”. If you don’t follow these expectations at least most of the time, you’re not really acting in a way that is considered acceptable to the rest of the server, and you’re not fitting into the community on Hermitcraft.

- No Hermit takes on any particular authority figure role, neither in the sense of a boss or manager who looks after things on a professional level, nor in the sense of someone taking on a parental role for anyone else. Friendships are certainly encouraged, and Hermits have varying social relationships with each other, but there really is no “mum friend” or “dad friend” around, excepting the occasional joke, there really just isn’t. And there aren’t any Hermits who seem to want to take on this role.

- The closest I can describe the micro-culture of Hermitcraft in real world terms is “university/college dorm full of mature students (mature students = people not fresh out of secondary school/high school)”. They are all busy with their own massive projects, and then on a social level are out to have a good, slightly chaotic, time. They’ve generally got a good sense of identity, or are blossoming into the kind of creator/person they want to be, because they’re in an environment that encourages growth and ambition while (contrary now to the university/college metaphor) not punishing failure. 

- Hermitcraft is a place of “healing” only in the sense that it is a place where people have a fresh start to dedicate themselves to massive projects and become a part of an exclusive but generally helpful and kind community. The only expectations are that you take responsibility for yourself and your own actions, and if you dish out something you’d better be prepared for it to be volleyed back to you; all of these are fair, in my personal opinion. Some people absolutely thrive on such an opportunity! Some others do not.

- Hermitcraft is exclusive, and not everyone who visits the server gets to stay there. To be offered an invite to become a Hermit requires you to be a good fit for the server and its community, and for everyone to agree on that. If even one Hermit doesn’t want someone there, they won’t be invited. That being said, the Hermits are mature individuals, and if you’re not a friend, then you can at least be a colleague. But if you can’t even be that... well. Hermits don’t offer invitations quickly, due to the fact that there is no probationary period; you’re either in or you’re not.

- LARPing is fairly common, wars are games, and everyone there is just out to have fun at the end of the day. If you don’t want to be involved in whatever “storyline” is currently being acted out on the server, you’ve got to manually say so and tap out. You can just say “sorry, busy with my mega-build, have fun at the war” and be left in peace. And these play-pretend games are not necessarily server-wide, either. Not everyone wants to be involved, and those who don’t aren’t pressured to be. But they do very much happen, and pretty frequently. 

And... yeah, that’s about it. Hermitcraft is a world where a bunch of people are basically running wild and free, able to create huge projects and have fun with their friends (in that distinct adults-who-don’t-have-to-go-to-work-and-are-free-to-be-who-they-wish-to-be kind of way), and while the in-universe reality of any storyline can be up for debate in fandom (e.g. in Season 5, was the jungle actually possessing people or were they just LARPing that?), at the end of the day, most of what happens is in good fun and good sportsmanship. And that is what it means to be a Hermit.

1,107 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dawnedon]

Dawn flinched and squeezed her eyes shut, ducking just in time to avoid getting domed in the head by a flying glass. Her arms tightened around Emperor, her Piplup that she had gotten hardly an hour ago, shielding him from the raining glass. She felt fortunate she had a heavy coat on protecting her body for the most part, lest her skin get cut by the shards of glass that had exploded outwards.

She had thought that she could show her mom how serious she was about her goal by bringing her Piplup home so that she could see, but instead it had turned into an all-out screaming match. One that Dawn began to regret as her mother’s behavior grew violent and erratic. All of Dawn’s bravado was snatched away in an instant, and all she could do was try to keep her distance. The last time her mother got aggressive, she had gotten a hard slap to the face. One that had stung for hours, even after sitting outside and holding snow to her cheek.

“Hikari,” her mother’s voice was pleading, borderline hysterical, “enough of this. Why don’t you go put on the dress you got today for your birthday? I can help you pick out a good contest moveset for Emperor!” Dawn stayed huddled against the back wall, protecting Emperor still the best she could with her body.

She didn’t realize how badly she was shaking in the moment, both from anger and genuine fear. It took a lot to shake the young girl, but her mother’s erratic, unpredictable behavior always threw her for a loop. Dawn had glossed over the fact it was her birthday entirely as well, putting on a fake facade upon seeing her gifts were, of course, contest-geared. She hadn’t even tried to ask for anything for her birthday, just like the past several years. There was no point; Dawn was never going to get what she wanted. It was always what her mother wanted, trying to force her into the perfect, ideal daughter.

“No. I dont want to.” Dawn replies, bravery and will finally coming back to the surface. “I didn’t even want that stupid dress. You wanted it... I didn’t ask for anything you’ve ever-” She was cut off again, as another object went flying inches past her face. Close enough that it ruffled her hair, even. Dawn flinched again, holding Emperor against her tightly.

“No more of these games Hikari! I am your mother. You WILL do as I say. Wasting your times on these silly dreams of being a trainer, of being Champion. You are ruining all of your potential.” Dawn shifted in place, boots crunching broken pieces of glass and porcelain.

“I hate you, I hate you.” It was all Dawn could say for a moment. “You never cared about me! You only care about continuing your stupid contest legacy and I don’t care. I don’t care about contests, I don’t care how badly you want me to do them. It’s never going to happen!”

There was a long silence that hung between them, and all hell would break loose. Any object Ayako could get her hands on was hurled at Dawn. Between dishware, glasses, the TV remote, they all would be flung towards the young girl. Dawn would duck out of the way, feeling shards of glass rain down on her heavy coat. She had to get out of here. There was no reasoning with her mother, and she was only going to get hurt if she stuck around.

A glass collided with the front door as she reached for the handle, a shard slicing through the back of her hand. Blood pooled out of the wound instantly, soaking into the end of her sleeve. Dawn swiveled to face her mother one last time, deep blue eyes meeting one another.

“I HATE YOU.” Dawn screamed, at the top of her lungs. “I WISH that you had disappeared instead of dad! It would have done EVERYONE a favor.” Her eyes had the rare burn of tears behind them as she wrenched the door open, and slammed it hard behind her as she left.

Tears spilled down her face as she left Twinleaf as fast as she could, a few flurries of snow beginning to fall from grey skies above. Emperor rest a tiny flipper over her still bleeding hand, making a tiny noise of concern at his new trainer.

“No, Emperor- you’re just going to get blood on you, it’s okay, I’m fine.” Dawn sniffled, using her shoulder to wipe her eyes. “I can get it looked at in Sandgem, I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m sorry, that- that must have been scary for you too. I shouldn’t have had you out of your ball, that was so stupid.” More tears well up in her eyes as Emperor hugs her arm with his flippers the best that he can, Dawn stopping in Route 201 to sit as snow begins to fall a bit more heavily around them.

“I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt, I... I’m sorry. I’ll get my hand looked at in Sandgem, I just- I don’t want anyone to see me like this.” She let out a shaky breath. Her heart felt broken, knowing that her relationship with her mother was effectively over, but she also felt much freer knowing she never had to go back home. Dawn didn’t know how she was going to survive, as embarking on a journey through Sinnoh at the start of November was practically suicide, but she would find a way. She always did.

“We’ll prove her wrong, won’t we? We’re going to become the best we can together and take down the whole League and Cynthia.” Dawn wiped the last of her tears away, the cold air making the wetness on her face sting. Emperor put his flipper over her uninjured hand this time, the Piplup giving her an affirmative nod.

“Let’s go. No more wasting time by feeling sorry for myself.”

[genuine-firefly]

Sk8 the Infinity Fic Recs

I had an itch to make a fic rec list. I’ve never made one before and atm I’m super into Sk8 the Infinity. It’s not in any particular order or anything. There’s a lot of omegaverse on here, so take notice if that’s not your jam. Also mind the major warnings. Here we go!

“Wind” by a_bit_batty (WIP)

Rated: E

Words: 22,900

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-con

Summary: Langa's upstairs neighbours are LOUD, and he has work early in the morning, so he pays them a visit intending to give them a piece of his mind. But the man who answers the door looks almost... Scared?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30425268/chapters/75014250

    “Not All Surprises Hurt” by Anxious_Valentine (WIP)

Rated: M

Words: 57,240

Summary: Kaoru wasn't always so cautious or a planner, but certain events throughout his life knocked the spontaneity right out of him and made him fearful of the unknown. He assumes that's why he's maintained his long-standing friendship with Kojiro, even if he was an obnoxious, thirsty gorilla most of the time. But recently, something's shifted between them, something Kaoru's never experienced before, and he's at a loss for how to respond to the changing circumstances.

Kaoru's about to learn though that not all surprises hurt, and even some can be a catalyst for a life he never thought would be possible for a person like him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31679624/chapters/78403592

    “Fragile Things” by dia_dove (WIP)

Rated: E

Words: 27,570

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-con

Summary: In one night, everything in Reki's life falls apart.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30220290/chapters/74466492

  “Fading Scars” Series by DrearyBanana (Complete)

Rated: M, E

Words: 129,999

Major Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Summary: Reki is trying to get his life back together after crossing Adam and spending three years suffering for it. With the support of his family, he's getting back on his feet and rediscover his passions. The mysterious skater with light blue hair who skates in the park near Reki's house starts to reawaken his interest in skateboarding.

Langa has stumbled his way into being a pro skater after moving to Okinawa, but his heart has never been in it. Everything feels like something to pass the time, and all he wants is to feel that joy he used to get from snowboarding. Slowly, the mysterious redhead who watches him skate starts to make Langa feel like he might be able to get back to that heart-pounding feeling after all.

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2307053

    “You Make It Better” by i6uooh_uiw (complete)

Rated: E

Words: 7,112

Summary: after kaoru's race with adam, he and kojiro have some things to talk about. at least, kojiro would really like to talk.

(or: kaoru doesn't like facing his feelings, kojiro and kaoru can't stop bickering, and kojiro's dick is really very large)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028944

    “The Makings of a Home” by Insertsomethingwittyhere (WIP)

Rated: E

Words: 10,112

Major Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Summary: A drunken night and missed medication leave Kaoru between a rock and a hard place. He had always been careful to keep his dynamic known but out of the way. What better way to prove that being an omega wouldn't affect his performance then to rub his success into the face of an ex thus proving him wrong about his dynamic? Unfortunately, it only takes one too many drinks at Sia la Luce for his world to take a turn into the wacky and stressful -and that's with Adam still at large- as he steps into the uncertainties of parenthood, not with the rag tag pack he'd become part of, but with a child of his own. A baby born of him and Kojiro who he'd always had a crush on, but knew who could never love him back.

Of course now with a baby on the way he only has so much time to decide what to do. So the worries start to pile on.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30696920/chapters/75748676

    “The One with the School Festival Trope” by LaurelNymph (Complete)

Rated: T

Words: 26,534

Summary: The good ol’ School Festival is here, and Reki gets to use his handyman skills to help his class pull off their event. They’re impressed.

Especially the girls.

Langa is Not Happy about that.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31745821/chapters/78577891

    “All Was Golden (When the day Met the Night)” by MissLightBright (Complete)

Rated: T

Words: 113,642

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: Reki was just a beta. He was boring and unappealing. He had no chance with Langa and he knew it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29303079/chapters/71960559

    “Local Skate Dads Adopt Three Sons and a Hooligan” by miyaji_08 (WIP)

Rated: M

Words: 79,779

Major Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Summary: Cherry and Joe are NOT parents, thank you very much, and they would appreciate it if you could remember that the next time one of their idiots get in trouble.

Or: They don't mean to adopt all these kids, except for the part where they very much do.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30478317/chapters/75158904

    “Summer Twilight Ricochet” by mousapelli (Complete)

Rated: E

Words: 10,439

Summary: Being almost but not-quite boyfriends with Langa is fun, but Reki's ready to move it along, if he can just figure out how much of it Langa's ready for. (Alpha Langa, Omega Reki)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30378327

    “Sunrise Eyes an Sunset Hair” (Baby, We’re a Pretty Pair) by Orphan_account (Complete)

Rated: E

Words: 9,600

Summary: "Kaoru," Joe moans and even though it sounds so breathless, he doesn't grant himself the pleasure of fresh air in favor of kissing Cherry again and again and yet again. "Kaoru, Kaoru – what are you doing to me?"

If he could, if only his brain worked in synch with his lips and vocal cords, Cherry would probably ask the same question, turn it on him and demand an answer so desperately because he knows he won't last much longer with this uncertainty in his life. It's already a lasting decay in his mind, he doesn't need it rotting away at his body too.

Cherry is certain Joe will just make him another number in his hook-up statistics if he gives in to his feelings.

Joe is certain he's in love with Cherry.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32388481

    “Nothing has to Change (but What if I Want it to?) by p_istachio (WIP)

Rated: NR

Words: 17,068

Summary: Langa is the mildest alpha in every sense of the word, and Reki is the most unreserved omega you’ll ever meet. With secondary genders being the last things on their minds, it’s no surprise that both of them are convinced that the other is a beta. How will their dynamic change when they inevitably find out the truth?

(Aka an unconventional ABO au bc renga heals my soul)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30692324/chapters/75735359

    “Summer Fox and Winter Wolf” by RoseLoveBunny (WIP)

Rated: M

Words: 10,404

Major Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Summary: Langa an artic wolf alpha just moved with his mom back to her home country of Japan from Canada after his alpha father died last year. After his death Langa refused to pick up a snowboard something that they both enjoyed so when an fox omega came running after him to take back his skateboard maybe he can try something new with someone else.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947413/chapters/73716159

    “Kiss the Rain” by SKayLanpher (WIP)

Rated: E

Words: 122,373

Summary: When Langa takes a trip to visit family in Canada, both he and Reki find themselves despairing at the distance. Though neither is apt to admit their true feelings for the other, they miss each other desperately and so start exchanging texts whenever they can. Texts that turn rather scandalous when Reki accidentally sends a nude that he knew he never should have taken in the first place.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31294271/chapters/77367743

[levihantrash]

Not Hange, But Zoe

For @levihanweek Aug 2021 Day 4 prompt: childhood (one-shot)

Summary: After the war, Levi gets to meet Zoe—Gabi and Falco’s new friend in school. A leap of faith comes in the form of a small child with an abundance of questions and acute compassion for a person they just met.

note: kind of fluffy kind of sad (a hopeful ending tho)

cross-posted on ao3 🤪

-----

For Gabi and Falco, returning to normalcy meant returning to school, in a part of the world that hadn’t been completely crushed by enormous, fiery giants. Strangely enough (to Levi), they decided to stay with him and Onyankopon for the time being.

“What’s your new friend’s name?”

Levi enjoys being a part of the children’s lives. They adapt more quickly and play with more abandon. Even when the weekly nightmares that bring them to huddle into his bed, he is more assuaged that the pain, with time on their side, will recede. Even if the memories never quite disappear, children don’t hold on to them with the steely desperation that many more adults do; afraid that without pain, they might have nothing left.

Falco hesitates, but Gabi barges in, overwhelmed with excitement and lacking inhibition. “Zoe! Their name is Zoe!”

“Zoe…?” Levi nearly stutters, grip tightening on the wheelchair armrests. Even Gabi registers his shock, faltering a little. Instead of keeping quiet, Gabi elaborates more, in hopes of soothing Levi’s inexplicable reaction.

“Zoe is so smart! I do a bit better than them at math, though they don’t seem to care about getting good grades.”

“Gabi I think Levi doesn’t want to—”

“It’s okay.” Levi stops Falco’s interruption with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Go on, Gabi.”

Spurred on by Levi’s go-ahead, Gabi goes on in detail. “Zoe has been reading a lot of history books lately, but the teachers won’t tell her where to find books about the war.”

“You know, the war we were in.” Gabi swallows, finding comfort by clenching Falco’s arm.

Falco chimes in with increased confidence. “I think Zoe would love to talk to you! They’ve been asking a lot of adults. Nobody wants to talk about the war… for good reason… I suppose.”

-----

Onyankopon sits across Levi at the dinner table, hearing what Levi had to say about his conversation with the two kids after they bid them good night.

“They want me to meet this kid called Zoe.”

“An unfortunate name…” Onyankopon muses sombrely.

“Who knows?” Levi contends, casting a quick glance at the tabletop where a photo of Hange Zoe sits. They had insisted on taking a picture together when they arrived at Marley. For the memories! To find out a camera works. An arm draped around Levi, they gave a peace sign as he stood stiffly, gazing sideways at the grinning commander. Levi remembers the flash of the new technology caused him to instinctively reach for the knife in his back pocket, before Hange promptly caught his hand in theirs.

“That’s the camera flash, Levi. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” Levi grumbled.

“Oh, I’m sure you weren’t. I just wanted to hold your hand.” Hange chuckled, about to let go of Levi’s hand before he clumsily squeezed back. A tense moment is shared, dissipating into a calm intertwining of fingers. A subtle smugness spread across Hange’s face.

“Very smooth.”

“You said you wanted to hold hands,” Levi said, unable to look at Hange.

“You’ve definitely got my hand in a choke-hold there.”

Loosening his grip, Levi mumbled a quick apology. Hange only got bolder, tucking Levi’s hand into their coat with what seemed like a practised gesture.

“Will you meet Zoe?” Onyankopon asks, dragging Levi back into reality.

“What do you think?” Levi often asks Onyankopon for advice.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Onyankopon says measuredly. “Even if it’s Gabi and Falco who are the ones asking. I know you have a soft spot for them.”

“Who says so?”

“You literally let Gabi manically push you around in the wheelchair on a bumpy grass patch and let Falco climb into your bed at night when he gets nightmares.”

“They’re kids. What’s the point of getting mad?”

“Exactly my point.”

Levi sighs, staring out of the window and the darkening sky. “I’ll meet them.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” Onyankopon says, remaining concerned.

-----

“Hi, I’m Zoe!” Dressed in a loose t-shirt and an equally loose pair of shorts, the bespectacled child thrusts out a hand in greeting. Gabi and Falco stand around them in anticipation of the long-awaited meeting (they waited a whole day).

“I’m Levi,” he says in kind, shaking the hand, quietly amused by the enthusiastic formality.

“What’s that?” Zoe points at Levi’s scarred eye. He lets out an unsteady breath. The sweat that has begun to accumulate at his pits tells him he isn’t sure if it had been a good idea to impulsively meet an uncanny reincarnation.

“Is it from the war?” Zoe helps him by asking more questions, seemingly not minding if they got responses or not. As though giving Levi a choice, a way out of the hard ones.

“Yes.”

Without missing a beat, Zoe pursues another train of thought.

“Gabi tells me I look like a commander that you used to know.” Zoe, for the first time in the whole exchange, almost looks nervous, shuffling between their two feet.

Maybe Falco and Gabi told them what happened. Words elude him if he were to try to explain anyway. For that, Levi is grateful for the straightforward manner of children.

Levi pulls out a photograph from his shirt pocket and hands it to Zoe. It’s a copy of the one back at home, printed in a smaller, carriable version.

“This is the commander. Hange.” He leaves out the surname, as Zoe observes the photograph of the two of them carefully.

“Did you two fight the war?” With that question, Levi confirms for himself that Gabi and Falco probably didn’t tell Zoe the whole story.

“Yes.”

“Did you win?”

There is a difficult, necessary silence that accompanies Zoe’s inquiry. “I don’t think anyone did.”

Zoe nods, eyeing the photograph again.

“Is that your best friend?”

Levi never quite thought about the nature of his relationship with Hange, so he pauses, eyes flickering towards the photograph—at the hand hidden in Hange’s coat.

“Like Gabi and Falco?” Zoe asks, making Falco blubber in denial, which he does so whenever someone associates him with Gabi as a pair.

“Yes.” Levi decides. The best of many friends.

“Your friend looks cool!” Zoe hands the photograph back to Levi, peering at him with wide-eyed intensity.

“Will you tell me more about the war?”

Placing his cheek on his palm, Levi bends closer to Zoe. “What would you like to know?”

-----

As the day draws to a close, Zoe still has questions. The sunset closes in on Levi and his small, attentive audience.

“Can I talk to you again tomorrow?”

Though fatigued, his body worn out from the unexpectedly long exertion, Levi finds himself agreeing.

“Yes.”

“One more question, please?”

Levi obliges.

“Do I remind you of Hange?” Zoe asks, a frown forming within the wrinkle between their eyebrows. Levi registers the suspicion, unable to figure out its source.

“Sometimes.”

“Which part?”

“Your curiosity,” Truthfully, there was not much he could garner from a one-day spontaneous meeting. Zoe’s curiosity, however, was blatantly obvious. Nonetheless, plenty of children are interested in many things—it was not anything special, Levi internally assures himself.

Zoe pouts slightly, a troubled expression now apparent. “But I’m not Hange. I’m Zoe.”

“I know,” Levi says unconvincingly.

“Do you miss them?”

Levi doesn’t answer the question, preferring to gaze over their shoulder.

“I’m not Hange. But do you want to be friends?”

Raising an eyebrow, Levi tries not to sound too sarcastic. “A kid like you wants to be my friend?”

“Gabi and Falco think you’re very cool. They also think you could do with more friends.” Falco has the decency to avoid eye contact, preferring the scenery of his shoes.

“You don’t go out that much!” Gabi says, hitting the nail on the coffin.

The familiarity of Zoe still stings him in the gut, where the similarities make it appear like the universe is playing an awful, blessed joke on Levi.

What did Hange tell all of them, that day in the sweltering sun?

Let’s meet them ourselves. If they don’t understand who we are, we just have to teach them.

“I don’t really fully understand who you are and why you look so sad. But I hope to learn more from you, Levi!”

A leap of faith comes in the form of a small child. A spunky, talkative child with an unsatiated thirst for knowledge and acute compassion for a depressed man they just met.

Straining his hip, Levi reaches out to ruffle Zoe’s wisps of stray hair, tightening the rubber band that kept their ponytail in place.

“We have a lot to learn from each other,” Levi says softly, allowing himself this leap. Only this once.

Zoe gives him the brightest of smiles, revealing an open, toothy grin.

[azucanela]

Dating korra would include

BEING KORRA’S S/O[GENDER NEUTRAL]

BEING ZUKO’S S/O | BEING SOKKA’S S/O

SUMMARY: life with korra from confession to marriage

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

WARNINGS: no major spoilers 

A/N: SOMEONE WITH T A S T E, i hope you don’t mind but i kinda just did the same thing i did for my zuko headcannons so feel free to scroll straight to the during the relationship bit if you just want dating korra h/c :D 

also i have 300 followers now what, i literally had 200 like yesterday hi everyone <3 um i really need to start pulling out all the stops

GETTING INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

she’s a simp.

that’s it. thats the headcannon. she has literally liked you since she met you and has said nothing, but you probably know since she’s so damn OBVIOUS ABOUT IT

korra is very in tuned with her emotions so when she realizes she likes you she’s pretty okay with it, a little more flustered during your interactions, but after a while her goal is to make you feel how she feel which is flustered.

she has no shame though, she knows she is hot and she wants you to know she thinks you are hot

lots of flirting on her end, so naturally you kinda begin to think she is joking and think nothing of it

this was not her intent, and now that you are desensitized to her flirting and not reacting flustered like you did when she first started she is frustrated™

you were not understanding that she very much likes you

stupid

she hasn’t said anything outright to you about it though, which is the main reason you are like lol this is a joke, my crush fake flirts with me i am okay

spoiler alert: you are not okay with this it hurts ow

so now shes getting ridiculously affectionate with you, which, tbh, she always was, but not its RIDICULOUS, korra is out here throwing an arm around your shoulder, randomly grabbing your hand, kissing your cheek

shes trying really hard to get her point across like really really hard

like painfully hard

if she likes you its probably because your fun, like you really spice up her life and introduce her to new things and go on really dumb adventures and really important missions with her and you put up with her and wow now korra is simping oops

you’re also probably forcing her to stay healthy, since i honestly think that despite having such an appetite, korra will forget to eat and take care of herself sometimes.

she is so bad at drinking water i swear to goD

there are two situations here

situation one is where korra finally realizes that you CANNOT READ SIGNALS AT ALL and decides she going to be upfront with you about her feelings

she’s either going to just flat out kiss you next time she sees you or spill all her emotions, of both in no particular order

you’re like reading in your room in the air temple, just vibing, and you see her coming towards you with a determined look on her face and you’re like ??? lol okay

you go back to reading only to have her hand reach under you jaw and she brings you into a kiss and now you’re like LOL OKAY

you honestly think that this is just another one of her stunts to get you flustered and means nothing

stoopid

and then she pulls apart and just starts spilling her feelings and you’re like :O omg me too 

and she’s like, “great, we’re dating now.” and suddenly she’s kissing you again, and between kisses you’re like, “im sorry what?”

“you heard me. do you have a problem with that?”

you just kiss her again

situation two is where you get sick of her and realize woah she may or may not be in love with you and so you confront her, and now there is a lot of yelling because you are frustrated™ and like screw you korra

you honestly think she is either madly in love with you and just doing this as a joke, and you genuinely think the latter is more like so you lowkey start crying and korra immediately begins to panic

she’s like, “why would i ever joke about that! i’ve literally been trying to get that through your thick skull this whole time!”

this time you kiss her first and korra is throwing a party in her head but she also feels really bad for making you cry oops

DURING THE RELATIONSHIP

okay so korra happens to be very much a simp

and you happen to be very much the mom friend™ it doesn’t matter if you are a boy girl or none of the above, that is your trademark my friend

she’s very affectionate and now that the two of you are dating she is at a whole new level.

important meeting? you are in her lap she does not care. war meeting? she is cuddling you as you explain the plans of attack and DAMN DO YOU LOOK GOOD DOING it

since being the avatar is MUCH more a political position now though, she does try to keep your relationship slightly on the down low, even before you were dating, you both had reporters constantly asking about your relationship and she doesn’t really like that

they are nosy and she does not approve. korra understands wanting to know about her avatar duties, but anything outside of that in regards to her personal life annoys her

loves kissing you, and when she does it tends to be intense and passionate. after a particularly tough day though, her kisses can either be slow and sensual because she just wants to have a nice soft and domestic day with you

OR

they can be harsh and almost brutish, she will get rough with you because she is highkey pissed at everything that day and making out you with is her stress reliever

really likes cuddling and anything domestic in general. she’s really happy with you, and she kinda has all the love languages

she seeks validation when the press is particularly harsh since being the avatar is HARD and as much as she wants to, she cannot please anyone, so please tell her she is doing amazing

so many acts of service up in here, she will randomly do stuff for you, spontaneity is kinda her vibe ya know

very vocal and expressive about her feelings, communication is key with her

arguments aren’t a rarity tbh, but when they do happen they tend to be more of debates over little things like what’s better, pineapple pizza or no?

major fights tend to end poorly since she can be a little stubborn when it comes to such things, but she will admit she was wrong and apologize IF she was wrong

if she wasn’t wrong but the argument got out of hand, she’ll apologize for that but will affirm her correctness

kiss her scars, she has them, and she is proud of them but 

support her at her pro bending matches and she will DIE, so happy, literally sososososososo happy, hugs you, loves you, yes

treats you as an equal no matter what, even if people think that as the avatar she should see herself as something more than

very protective of you.

like if someone flirts with you, she is clingy x10. if someone hits on you despite your protests, she HITS them. if someone threatens to hurt you, she promises to end them. 

MARRIAGE N STUFF

WELP

she’s gonna realize she wants to propose when she almost loses you, or in the middle of a battle. when the reality of potentially losing you hits her she is gonna realize she wants to live out the rest of her life by your side, protecting you

situation one is where she literally, in the MIDDLE OF BATTLE, without a ring, just proposes. you are being a baddie, bending if you are a bender, fighting the opposing enemy, looking MIGHTY FINE while doing it

“marry me.”

you falter, nearly getting hit as your head whips over to her and you’re like, “ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

and she throws a giant rock at the opposition, temporarily indisposing them, “yes?? why wouldn’t i be.”

Someone comes up behind you and you elbow them in the face and ram your foot into their knee, knocking them down, “RIGHT NOW?” 

she throws a whip of water in your direction and you dodge it, allowing her to take out the enemy behind you, and you throw a whole dagger at her to do the same. “that was close.” she narrows her eyes at you bc you lowkey look like you wanna kill her rn as you two hide behind a barricade for cover and an explosion washes over it, “you could’ve killed me.”

“you just about gave me a heart attack when you PROPOSED two minutes ago, need i remind you.”

korra raised a brow at you, “is that a no...?”

“do you even have a ring?”

korra gives you a look that gives you the answer and you groan, “i cannot believe you.”

“you really should’ve expected this.”

“i know.”

“i get to pick the ring then?”

“you’re probably going to plan the whole wedding.”

“alright.”

theres a boom from beyond the barricade you two have hidden behind as korra looks to you, “alright?”

“i’ll marry you.” you elaborate, giving her a bright smile.

situation two is more depressing lol

you have been SHOT oops, don’t die pls because korra CANNOT handle it after everything that has happened to her, so if you die she’s done

she’s kinda just sitting at your bed side and it hits her that you could die basically any day now, and she would have so many regrets

she wished she kissed you more, told you she loved you more, held you longer, spent more mornings with you and your bedhead, she wished she learnt to cook so that she could surprise you with a meal when you get home from a long day of work, she wishes she did a lot of things

she wishes you two were married.

korra is now having an existential crisis, and everyone is telling her that she has to go home, get some rest, you’ll wake up eventually, you’ll get better, but you don’t wanna wake up to korra being a mess

she knew they were right, you always scolded her for not taking care of herself, so she decided to follow some of their wishes

Korra cannot bring herself to go home, there are so many reminders of you that it hurts, and she kinda just decides she’ll stay in a hotel and wash up and such.

besides, you are her home.

after leaving the hotel, she ends up going the jeweler and buying the ring she believes screams you

when korra returns to the hospital, she contemplated proposing right then and there, before realizing that you’d probably yell at her for choosing such a ridiculous time and you already had a lot on your plate

once the two of you return home and you are in the midst of recovery, she did learn to cook, so you wouldn’t feel the need to do so, and given your situation she fears you’ll injure yourself further in the process.

you two are eating dinner and you’re babbling on about something you’d read, and she suddenly decides to get up and walk over to you, leaving you like ???

then she gets down on one knee and you are like :O

she’s like, “marry me.”

naturally, you start crying and nodding because wow this is such an intimate moment and just happiness

kissinggggg after that 

the wedding is, under NO CIRCUMSTANCE public, the most private and intimate wedding ever. korra hates reporters after her life as the avatar, she doesnt want strangers at her wedding.

any and everyone she has ever fought beside is there though, its wholesome and nice

definitely cries when she sees you at the altar

her vows are MASTERFUL AND TEARJERKING 

its a pretty basic wedding though, unless you prefer something over the top, the food is nice a mix of both your cultures and favorite things and there’s beautiful lighting

definitely done on air temple island, and tbh tenzin would probably walk you down the aisle because i said so

married life with her is even better, she lives for he domesticity of it all, especially lazy sunday mornings with the light filtering in and you just looking all pretty and having a lil fun

iykyk

honeymoon in the spirit word lads

bolin is your number one supporter

life with korra is a 10/10 i do recommend it

A/N: im kinda in love with korra lol this requests made me happy

[haikyuulovercompany]

Hii! May I request a scenario for Kuroo and a character of your choice? Whoever you feel like writing. Could it be angsty? Their s/o has a very big, visible scar on their face, which they got when they were younger. They don't seem bothered by it unless someone asks for the details, in which case they get defensive. And when people who knew them before what happened go like, "You used to be so beautiful back then" they get insecure. Please feel free not to write it if it makes you uncomfortable♡

So, I was unable to make it really angsty... so i did more of a comfort piece that i hope that whoever feels a insecure on any degree, feels a little bit more loved... and since you let me choose one character, it was obviously my boyfriend Tendou ! Hope you enjoy (: 

-----

Tetsuro Kuroo

Meeting the family of a new partner was always nerve-wracking. For Kuroo it was, at least. He was spending the weekend at ______’s hometown ready to get to know better the person he had happened to fall in love with more than seven months ago. Kuro had met ______ on his second semester in college. It was supposed to be an early night for him. He was supposed to have a couple drinks and then leave. However, as soon as ______ had appeared, he decided he could stay a couple more minutes. They had happened to be friends with his friends, and it had been a coincidence for them to choose the same bar as them. Kuroo didn’t believe much in coincidences, and started to believe in fate. What could’ve been the odds? Those few minutes became a couple more hours, and he had ended up walking ______ to their dorm at five in the morning.

The chemistry had been spontaneous, and he hadn’t let them go ever since that day. He genuinely saw a future with ______, and giving their parents a good impression was in his best interest.

______ rubbed his arm reassuringly as they stepped out of the taxi. Kuroo took a look at the house, and breathed in. “It’ll be okay. They’re nice,” they said. He nodded, keeping his cool.

He followed them down the graveled path leading to the front door. ______ rang the bell a couple times, and flashed him another smile. He fixed his jacket as if there something he could do. They had hopped off from an airplane, and he looked exactly like that. His hair was slightly more disheveled than usual, and he was sure he didn’t smell that nice either. He hoped his personality could make up for it.

The door opened showing two shining smiles. ______ went straight for a hug. While their father hugged them, their mother pulled Kuroo inside the house. “It’s so good to meet you,” she said cheerfully. “He’s such a handsome boy, ______. Where did you find him?”

“Lost in the streets. Like a stray cat,” they joked. Their parents rolled their eyes at them.

“Well, lucky you,” their mother told ______, and winked an eye at Kuroo. “Go and get comfortable. Dinner is not ready yet.”

“Yes. I’m dying for a shower,” they claimed, heading for the stairs without saying anything more.

“Thank you very much,” Kuroo made sure to say, never losing his manners.

“Oh, it’s our pleasure. Go ahead.”

Kuro nodded, and shuffled a little on his place before joining ______ on the stairs. They chuckled at him and shook their head. Neither of them said anything else until they were in the safeness of the bedroom they were using for the weekend. It was ______’s childhood bedroom. Kuroo’s curiosity perked up. He chose the bookshelf first, inspecting what kind of books they had collected through their early years. “Do you want to take a shower first?” they asked, sitting next to their

“No, go ahead.”

“Okay. Knock if you need anything.”

They locked themselves on the bathroom leaving Kuroo alone in the room. He continued going through the shelves. It was easy to tell which books had been for school, and which others had been bought for a personal preference. He stumbled upon a couple of photo frames. Standing with ______ were a couple of people he had never seen—their friends from their old school most probably. The first one was from somewhen around high school. The second one was different for one special detail: there was no scar on ______ face. They were much younger than in the previous photo, way before the accident which caused the scar on their face. He continued inspecting the room, not putting much more attention to it. Once he was done, he laid down on the bed, and scrolled through his phone, waiting for his turn without a hurry. He was grateful he could rest a little after the trip.

Within half an hour both were ready. While they hadn’t made a big effort on their appearance since they were staying home for the rest of the day, Kuroo combed his hair anyway. He wouldn’t dare to go down to have dinner with his hair in a complete mess. “Looking fine,” ______ teased him.

He smirked. “I’m trying to give a good impression.”

“I see that, thank you.” They stood on the tip of their toes and kissed him on the cheek. It meant a lot to ______ to see Kuroo taking the trip seriously, and he knew this. It also meant a lot to him. He had been excited when ______ invited him to meet their parents. It was taking their relationship to a more formal ground, and he was in for it. He wanted nothing more than to solidify his commitment to their relationship.

______ exited the room first. He had never been a shy guy, but he preferred to stay behind and be cautious with his actions. No matter how much ______ and he were alike, their parents could be another story. It wouldn’t be the first time an apple fell too far from the tree.

As they approached the first floor, they heard a third voice. ______ frowned, immediately turning to see their boyfriend with a worried face. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“That’s my aunt. She’s… kind of careless with what she says.” They huffed. “I didn’t know she was coming.”

“You parents probably told her you would be here and wanted to see you.”

“Yeah, probably. I wished they didn’t to be honest. Whatever she says don’t take it personal, okay?”

“No problem,” he assured her with a casual yet confident grin.

The table was set for five people, confirming ______. Their aunt was staying for dinner and they hoped she didn’t make things too awkward. She came into the room as soon as she heard the pair, a big smile spreading across her face. She hurried to their side, embracing one at a time in a tight hug, almost taking the air out of the two of them. Just like their mother had done, she complimented Kuroo on his looks. He pretended to be shy, but they knew he was enjoying all the attention deep inside.

They helped to bring the food to the table, falling into casual conversation. ______ relaxed. Their aunt seemed to be on her best behavior. No imprudent comment had been made yet. They weren’t worried about what Kuroo would think. They worried on how awkward the night could be turned thanks to her.

They were in the middle of their food when their aunt cleared her throat as she wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “For how long have you two been together?”

“Eleven months to be exact,” Kuroo answered.

“Wow, almost a whole year. That’s so sweet,” ______’s mother commented, giving the two a tender look.

“It is, right?” Kuroo answered with a slight grin. They exchanged glances with him briefly. ______ held back their giggles. Kuroo could never turned off his confident personality. They would never admit it out loud, but they adored that part of him. Admitting out loud would cause far more teasing from his part.

“You’re such a cute couple,” their aunt followed. “Had they showed you pictures of ______ before the scar? They used to be so beautiful back then.”

______ stopped chewing right then and there. It had taken them years to feel at ease with the scar across their cheek. It had been years of trying to cover it, failing, and having to accept it. Their parents stayed quite—everyone was trying to realize what to say next. “I need something to drink.” They stood up, quickly disappearing into the kitchen.

Kuroo cleared his throat and with a polite tone said, “No, actually no. I don’t there’s need to, to be honest.” ______ eyed him.

“I mean, they’re still as pretty as ever of course,” the aunt continued, a little bit ashamed of her comment. She wasn’t getting any sympathy, though.

“For sure, they’re a beauty,” Kuroo stated before standing up and following ______ into the kitchen, knowing well what they must be feeling. ______ was resting on the counter with their eyes on the floor. A shiny tear hung on their chin. Kuroo silently and swiftly approached them, swiping the tear off from their chin. “Are you okay?”

“I told you she was kind of careless,” they murmured, avoiding to meet his eyes.

“But she is wrong. I don’t think you were more beautiful than now.”

“I know that’s not true.”

“I say is subjective,” he offered.

They finally looked at him, a soft frown on their faces due to the confusion. “She thinks you’re not, but I think you are.” He received no answer, and he concluded it was best to take it more seriously. He hugged them with the intentions of keeping them under his hold as much as they needed it. ______ hugged him back. That was what they needed. Unconditional love.

Five minutes later, they removed themselves, drying their face. “Is it too obvious that I cried?”

“No, don’t worry.” And he wasn’t lying. ______ had spilled a couple tears. They hadn’t been enough to swell her eyes.

They went back to the table together. Kuroo pulled the chair out for them, and then took his seat. The dining room was in complete silence. Their parents stared worried. _____ gave them a faint smile. It didn’t mean everything was okay. It meant they were handling it.

“So, if you have embarrassing pictures of ______ as a baby, I’m up for that,” Kuroo said out of the blue, surprising everyone. ______’s father laughed first. Kuroo slipped a hand under the table and rested it on their leg, giving it a soft squeeze.

“We have many,” their mother assured him.

“I’m impatient,” Kuroo declared.

The tension slowly dissipated. ______ looked at their aunt. She had her eyes on her food, and they could see the shame in their factions. ‘Good’ they thought. It was nothing against her, but she shouldn’t be meddling in their business like that. It was their scar, their story, and their decision. They had showed many pictures to Kuroo prior to the accident, but it had been in a moment of intimacy where they had felt comfortable to talk about it. And in an incredibly gracious way, Kuroo had shut the situation down. ______ smiled to themselves and continued eating as their parents now asked Kuroo about him a little bit more. They would make sure to thanked him properly later.

Satori Tendou

Meeting new people was always exciting for him. He was expectant to see what type of person they were or how fast he could read them. It was interesting to him. Meeting his new partner’s friends was turning out to be an interesting situation, to say the least.

______ stayed on the edge of their seat, trying to find when they could add something to the conversation. The other four people—the “friends”—wouldn’t let them say a word. They talked all over ______, and ignored when they managed to complete a sentence. It was clear they were dismissing them. Tendou had his eyebrows raised, wondering why ______ would consider these people their friends. He hadn’t tried to join. He was seeing enough for him to grow highly uninterested on the group of people. It meant something to ______ for him to be there, and that was the only reason why he was staying there.

“It is Tendou right?” one of the boys asked. He had a buzzcut and moved his tongue inside his mouth like he had crumbs stuck on his gums.

“Hmm-mmm,” he shortly responded, lazily tapping his fingers on the table.

“How did you meet ______?” a girl asked. They made it sound as if it was unbelievable for ______ to actually meet someone. He didn’t like the tone of their words. It had a mean undertone. He knew because he had used too to discourage someone on the court. He despised the idea they were trying to bring down ______ right in front of him—their boyfriend.

“At a party. He is my cousin’s friend,” they explained.

“Make sense. One day you suddenly had a boyfriend. It was supper random,” another boy pointed out. He had shaggy hair, and it wasn’t the type of messy that could be cute. The guy needed a haircut immediately.

“I guess,” they said, sounding a little bit more nervous. Tendou wasn’t participating at all in the conversation, and he was aware he was being rather quiet. He wasn’t comfortable with those people. It reminded him of elementary school. The vibe was similar, keeping him on the edge, expecting an insult at any moment.

And it did.

“Do you want to see ______ before they had the scar on their cheek?,” the same girl asked with eagerness, like she was ready to play her favorite game. Tendou felt them tensing under the arm he had kept across their shoulders. He could physically feel their emotional stress growing rapidly inside them.

“Not really,” he answered stoically. He squeezed their shoulder, and stood up from his sit at the pretty cafeteria they had met. “Come on, ______, we’re going to be late to have dinner with my parents.”

______ nodded, and got up quickly. They weren’t having dinner with anyone. It had been the first excuse that came to mind to leave the place. He wasn’t staying, and he wouldn’t leave ______ there. He had to get the two of them out of there before something bad happened—and he meant snapping at any of them, and god knew he could be vicious if tempted.

Tendou intertwined his hand with theirs, walking out of the establishment without looking back. They went down the street for a couple minutes before he heard the tiniest of weeps. He stopped on his tracks, and with one swift motion pulled them into his chest, wrapping his arms around. People moved around them as ______ cried under his shelter. Tendou felt his heart wrench. It had not only been humiliating for them, but that girl had touched the most sensitive nerve in them.

______ raised their head once they were able to stop crying. It had felt like a nightmare. Their scar wasn’t a joke or a toy they could use to entertain themselves. Tendou’s long fingers were soon on their face, rubbing their cheeks with the kindness they needed in that moment. “Are you better?”

They give a little tired grin. They loved Tendou didn’t expect them to simply be okay, but instead they hoped for them to feel better whenever those type of situations happened. “Just a little,” they admitted.

“I hate to say this but your friends suck.”

The little grin turned into a sad chuckle. “I know. But back in middle school they were the only people who wanted to hang around with me, so… I guess it was better than to be alone.”

“You don’t have to anymore, you know?” he asked rhetorically. “The older we get, the less it matters,” he finished as his finger went through the scar on their face. It was true. The older the people, the less noisy people were. There were adults were absolute assholes who had no sense of decency and would make the same tactless questions and comments, but they were just a few compared to a crowd of fourteen-year olds.

“Yeah, but it’s still hard.”

“It is, but we’re going to make it easier. I promise you.” He bent down giving them a quick peck on the forehead. “If you ask me, you’re the cutest thing around.”

They snorted, trying to hide the blush on their face. Tendou understood them from a deep part of himself—a unique type of understanding. ______ hugged him, nuzzling their nose on the crook of his neck. It was the place where they felt the most accepted… in his arms.

[misslilli]

Thank you guys, for going on this adventure with me 🥰 I'm having such a blast reading your comments!

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 13 - Fantastic Mulders And Where To Find Them

[ DS ]

“Well, little lady, you’re pretty young and inexperienced, you’ll learn to distinguish when it’s appropriate to call in parents and when it’s clearly not necessary.” Stunned, I stare at the father of a girl in my class sitting across from me, trying to control my flaring temper. ‘What a misogynistic, condescending asshole!’

“I can assure you, sir, when a child comes to me with a concerning story from home, I will always want to clear it up with the parents. Now that we’ve cleared it up, I think we’re done here. Thank you for coming.” I get up and hold out my hand, hoping to end this nightmare of a conversation on a positive note.

Once he left, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, anger boiling in the pit of my stomach. There’s not much that I hate more than being belittled and I yank my book bag off my table angrily, spilling the cup of pencils in the process, scattering them everywhere. I want to scream. Okay, now I’m Pissed. Royally.

I pick up the pencils and shove them back into the cup before turning off the lights and leaving for today. As I head outside, I notice a small gathering of women down the front steps and they’re giggling and laughing at something Fox Mulder had said. At the sight of him, my heart skips a few beats. ‘Oh that’s just great. I’ll keep my head down and walk by quickly, I’m in no mood to be dragged into a conversation with the PTA brigade.’

I try to pass them by inconspicuously, walking briskly down the stairs and keeping my head down, but I’m stopped with a hand on my arm and a “Miss Scully, do you have a moment?” I turn to him trying to hide my exasperation. ‘Ugh, why do you have to be so damn handsome. And please, get your hand off my arm before I burst into flames. Victim: Dana Scully, cause of death: Spontaneous human combustion from being touched by Fox Freakin’ Mulder. Try and put that on a headstone.’

My mask of professionalism only slips for a brief moment, though, and I smooth out the frown on my face. “Yes, Mr. Mulder?” ‘Why is your hand still there? And why is it so hot all of a sudden, it’s freakin’ September.’

“I was hoping you could give me another opinion on something.” He leans into my personal space conspiratorially and I raise my eyebrow in a silent question. ‘Mmmh he smells really good too. Why, God, why? Ugh, that low tone of voice is driving me insane.’

“Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?” The women around me giggle and I blink at him slowly. ‘What the fuck kind of question is that?’ I draw myself up to full height - don’t you dare laugh - thankful that I wore my heels today and gather the few braincells I have left that are not occupied with wondering how that broad chest would feel under my fingers.

“Logically, I would have to say No. Given the distances needed to travel from the far reaches of space, the energy requirements would exceed a spacecraft’s capabilities.” I can tell that my answer somewhat surprises him but he’s not done yet.

“But there are obviously unexplained phenomena out there, now when convention and science offer us no answers might we not finally turn to the fantastic as a plausibility?”

‘What I find fantastic is your ass in those jeans…’. “What I find fantastic is any notion that there are answers beyond the realm of science. The answers are there, you just have to know where to look!” The other moms watch our argument as if they’re watching a tennis game.

He flashes me a wry grin. “That’s why they put the ‘I’ in FBI.” ‘Huh, so he’s with the Feds? I wonder where he keeps his gun. Well, I know where I’d check first but… Okay that’s enough. I wonder how many Hail Mary’s Father George will make me say for what’s going on inside my head.

Felix comes running down the stairs at this moment and wraps his arms around his dad’s legs. “Well thank you for this fantastic point of view, I’ll see you tomorrow ladies. Miss Scully.” He tips his imaginary hat to us and walks Felix back to the car. The little boy turns and waves at me, briefly. I smile and wave back.

My mood has miraculously improved during this odd bit of conversation and I bid the PTA moms goodbye as well, walking over to my bike to head home.

----------

[Felix]

“Hey dad, what did you and Miss Scully talk about back there?” I need to know. Please don’t let it be something embarrassing. Dad smiles at me in the rear view mirror.

“I asked her if she believed in aliens!”

“Noooo DAD, please tell me you didn’t!” ‘This is even worse than I thought. Can I give him up for adoption?’Dad shrugs his shoulders.

“She was having a pretty bad day, I just wanted to cheer her up. I think I did a pretty good job, too, she did smile at the end didn’t she?” Okay that is kind of sweet and yes she did, maybe I’ll keep him after all. I decide to change the subject.

“Dad, can we go to a soccer game sometime?” I just found out at recess today that our school has a soccer team and I really want to see that game. There’s another reason, too, but I keep this bit of information to myself.

“Sure, just tell me when!”

----------

[ FM ]

During the week, I’m treated to various stories from Felix’s school day on the car ride home, but his favorite daily segment of the Felix Show is “Dad, Do You Know What Miss Scully Did Or Said Today?” I’m bat-shit crazy about her too, so I get where he’s coming from, but he’s downright obsessed and I worry that this kind of attachment is not healthy for a kid.

I talk this over with our therapist on Thursday, in a one-on-one session and she thinks that maybe because he lacks an emotionally available mother, he looked for a suitable substitute and found it in his teacher. I shouldn’t worry too much about it, she’s sure when it’s too much, that the teacher is capable of handling the situation. She also promised to talk to Felix next time, to maybe tone it down just a little.

Our time is up before I can tell her about my own concerns about this situation. How I’d like to ask her out on a date but I don’t know if I should because I don’t want my son to get hurt in the process. I’m too inexperienced in dating to know the proper ways to handle this and frankly, the thought of getting back into dating terrifies me a little too. Okay maybe a lot. Felix is not the only one who has been scarred by the divorce.

----------

[ Felix ]

“Dad! Do we have any glitter glue in the house?”

It’s Thursday night and I’ve been working on my project for hours, wanting to get it just right. I had asked dad to write out a text for an invitation for me and I copied it onto the paper carefully. Pleased, I look at the two invitations I made, I can’t wait to hand them out. I really really hope they’ll accept the invite. My dad’s voice is getting louder while he talks, he’s coming upstairs. He enters my room and looks over my shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s in one of the drawers in the office. Tell me again why you’re making extra invitations when we had official ones made this week?” For someone who spends the whole day at work getting into other people’s heads, he’s not very good at understanding people.

“Because I reallywant them to come, dad! They’re my special guests!”

“Well, if there’s glitter glue, they won’t be able to say no! You did a really good job, Felix.”

“I hope so, dad. I’m pretty sad that mom’s out of the country and grandma can’t make it either.” He strokes a hand over my head.

“I know, son. I’m sorry!”

Chapter 14 - Last Chance For Spotting A Rainbow

Notes:

I stole some lines from the pilot. Please don’t sue. They’re just too good. Asdldlgdf

Also, the scene in the beginning is not entirely made up, a version of it happened to me last year.

[ikleesfiction]

Will you follow through if I fall for you?

Fandom : One Chicago Word count : 2,276 words Author Notes : Rated M Disclaimer

Previously on this fic : Part 1 🞂 Part 2 🞂 Part 3 🞂 Part 4

Part 5

Jay didn’t text or call you further until the next day. You feel your phone vibrating on the desk as you are working with your headphones on. You see Jay’s name on the display before you pick it up, “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N! I’m downstairs. Let's do the dinner date now. You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?” Jay spontaneously announces.

It was just past 7 PM. You have been working since 1 PM and didn’t notice the time goes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Couldn’t you give me more time to prepare?”, you sound annoyed but he can hear the smile in your tone.

“Don't want you to accuse me of bailing again. So I have to be sure I can make it”, Jay says grinningly.

“Why don’t you come up and wait in my living room?”, you let Jay know your apartment number and buzz him up before you disconnect the call. Soon you hear knocks on your door.

“Hi, come on in”, you usher Jay into your place. “Sit wherever you like, make yourself at home. If you’d like to drink, feel free to take it from the fridge. I’m gonna go get ready”, you tell him.

As you turn your back to leave, Jay grabs your wrist gently and turns you around. His hand then cups your face tenderly and he leans to kiss your lips. You freeze up for a tick before melt into it. Your hand moves to his chest, palm over his denim jacket.

Jay pulls away after a while, “Hi. I miss you”, he murmurs. You just blink owlishly and stay speechless.

“Now you can go get ready”, he commands you with a smile. You voluntarily follow his order. Jay shakes his head, amused. He was being honest when he said he misses you. For the whole day, he was hoping the unit wouldn’t get any urgent cases. Once it’s time to clock out, Jay quickly moved out of the district. The kiss though been something that he wanted to do since he met you at Will’s place. When Jay saw you opened the door before, he thought you’re cute with faded pink shorts that were drowned by an oversized white t-shirt. He just felt like it was the right time to properly kiss you.

As he waits for you to get ready, Jay looks around at your place. It’s an open-plan apartment. He can see almost every corner of it from the living room. A flat tv was hanging on the wall, in front of a cozy couch and a simple coffee table. On one corner, there is a small desk table with a mismatched but comfy looking chair. A laptop, headphones, and a microphone are sitting on the table. Next to it, there are an electric keyboard and a guitar. Cables plug and scatter around messily. He figures that’s where you do your work.

Jay walks to the kitchen to take a bottle of water from the fridge. You don’t have a dining table. Only a kitchen island with chairs on its outer side. On the fridge door, he can see a training schedule and some recipe cards. There are no pictures or drawings. Actually, he cannot find any family photos or even band posters around the place. The place looks kind of bare without any personal decoration. Jay wonders how long you’ve been living in this place.

Fifteen minutes later, you come out of your room in a cream-colored blouse and skinny blue jeans. Because Chicago weather always feels chilly to you, you put on a black light-jacket that fell slightly above your wrists. “Okay, I’m ready”, you fluff your hair a bit. You don’t have time to style it the way you like. So brush and fingers should do.

“You clean up nice”, Jay compliments you. He offers his hand for you to take.

“Well, thanks for the heads-up”, you respond jokingly as both of you step out of your place after you lock it down.

You and Jay casually chat while he drives. “How was your day?”, you genuinely want to know.

“It’s good. Any day without getting shot at is actually good. The gang told me to say hi to you, by the way”, he informs you.

“Really? How many people are there in your team? I was lowballing for breakfast the other day. I hope it’s enough”, you tilt your head curiously.

“No, you were great. No one was left hungry. Let’s see, there is my partner, Hailey Upton. We got Ruzek, Olinsky, and Dawson. Hank Voight is our boss. Who else did I miss? Hmm…Oh, Burgess and Atwater! So there’s eight of us”, Jay counts.

“And Sergeant Platt at the desk”, you remind him.

Jay lets out a laugh, “Right, that’s sweet of you to remember her”

“Well, no one can go in 21st District without her permission. So I have to take good care of her”, you humorously explain your reason.

Soon Jay parks his car. “The restaurant is just around the corner”, he shows you as you step out of his car. You walk side by side to the restaurant.

“Dawson told me this place is good but I’ve never been here before”, Jay informs you when he opens the restaurant door for you.

“Great, I like unknown places”, you cheerfully comment.

There is a friendly-looking older guy greets them at the door. “Hola! Welcome! My name is Carlos. Are you looking for a table for two?”

Jay gives him an affirmative nod, “Yes, please”

Carlos then guides both of you to a table. He lets you settle down and gives menu cards to review. A few minutes later, he comes back, “Ready to order?”

Jay looks at you questioningly. “Ah, can you tell me more about this one?”, you ask Carlos, pointing out an appetizing picture of a dish on the menu. The discussion is certainly longer than normal, but Carlos happily explains it to you. Finally, you pick your choice and so does Jay.

“I’m sorry. It must’ve been annoying to listen to”, you apologize to Jay once Carlos left.

“Not at all", Jay brushes it off. "It is actually interesting to see. The guy was ready to narrate all the tales about each dish when you ask”

“Yeah, thankfully he’s patient about it. Other places might have kicked me out before I can decide”, you snort a laugh. “That happened before. We were in New York. My best friend, Alex is a DJ. He was scheduled to play a gig at a club there. We planned to have an early dinner before going to the club. It was a fairly fancy restaurant. I remembered asking at least three questions for each dish before the waitress lost her patience, accused me of pranking her, and kicked us out. We were too shocked to say anything”, you giggle through your story. “Whenever we try new places now, I’m not allowed to order anymore”

"You're not just being polite when you mentioned you like unknown places", Jay remarks after laughing at your story.

"No, I truly like it. When we travel for work, we like to try places recommended by locals. Sometimes they do well, sometimes they don't. That's the fun in that", you justify.

"Is that why your place is rather bare? Because you travel all the time?", he pries.

"Ah no, not really. I.. I haven't been staying there long. Two months now", you hesitantly unfold.

"Oh, where do you live before?", he continues to probe.

"Amsterdam", you quickly respond, wishing he doesn't ask more about it.

"That's far. What made you move here?", Jay intrigues, unaware of your discomfort.

Before you can reply, a waiter comes with an appetizer and wine. He pours the wine into both of yours and Jay's glass, then leaves the bottle on the table. You softly exhale your relief, grateful for the distraction.

“Hmm, this is good”, you say after sipping your wine and tasting the food. “This place is very nice", as you look around the restaurant. "A good recommendation you received here, Jay”

"Yeah, Antonio rarely stirs us wrong", Jay agrees with you.

"Antonio is Gabby's brother, right?", you ask him.

"Yeah, you know her?", Jay returns with a tad surprised.

"Uhuh, Met her at Molly's", you answer shortly. It is not exactly a lie, but it is not the whole truth either. You did come to Molly's the night before the incident where Firehouse 51 saved you.

"Seriously? I can't believe we never met before. Our unit is a regular there! Even Will also frequently goes there", Jay baffles. You just giggle in response.

Easy conversation flows during dinner. Both of you certainly enjoy it. Soon the meal is finished and dessert is polished. While Jay settles the bill, you compliment the staff for the nice meal. Carlos bids farewell at the door with a small package of dulce de leche cookies. "Hope you enjoy the rest of your night!", he wishes you and Jay goodbye.

“What if we take a walk for a while, sober up from the wine?”, Jay suggests to you after leaving the restaurant. “Okay”, you readily agree.

Jay holds your hand when you both stroll along the sidewalk. The sky is quite clear. Even though you cannot see a lot of stars, the moon shines prettily. Both of you glance at each other a few times. Until you lock eyes with him, Jay stops his walk and turns to look at you. “Gosh, you’re gorgeous”, he states before kissing you tenderly on your lips.

One kiss turns two and another and another. It got more intense for each kiss. You’re not sure how long until you have to take a breather.

“Might be better if we go back now?” you sigh to his lips. He steals another kiss before replying, “Okay, we’re going now.”

◢◤

Your hand is shaking when you try to open your apartment door with Jay’s hands wrap around your waist. His body presses on your back while his lips nibble on your neck. Once you get in, you lead him to your bedroom. Jay sheds his and your clothes one by one in between kisses along the way. Both of you are topless when you reach your bedroom. You push him lightly to your bed and straddle him on his lap. The make-out session keeps going for a while. His hands then move from your ass to take off your jeans. He rolls on top of you and starts to peel your jeans from your legs.

You suddenly realize that he’s going to see the scar on your left leg, a souvenir from the incident. Jay can feel you stiffen when his knuckles graze your scar. “You okay?”, he tentatively asks you.

“Ah, yeah. I don’t know how I could forget about it. I’m sorry. I could cover it so you...”, you falter.

“What? What are you talking about?”, Jay confusedly interrupts.

You sit up and pointedly look at your left leg. There’s a long jagged line that goes along your left hamstring. Jay delicately touches it, but you jerk your leg away in reflex, “Sorry! Am I hurting you?”, Jay sounds worried.

“No, you’re not”, you fall back to your pillow and avoid looking at Jay. He moves to your right side and leans on his left elbow, facing you as he waits for you to speak.

“There’s was an incident, a couple months ago”, you begin to fill him in. “Alex was playing a gig at a nightclub on Fulton River District. I assisted him behind the stage”, you shudder as you recount the nightmare.

“One moment everything went alright, but then I saw the stage started to wobble. It collapsed quickly. I pulled Alex out of the way but I moved too slow...” Jay stays silent but holds your right hand and kisses the back of it.

“I was trapped under the rubble. My leg got pinned. Until Firehouse 51 pulled me out of there”. Jay instinctively squeezes your hand. “Torn the ligaments, got some nerve damage too. Been working on it ever since”, you unreliably conclude your story.

Jay is quiet for a while, but his hand moves to caress your face. “I’m gonna buy drinks for the whole 51 next time I see them at Molly’s”, he declares and then closes the gap to your lips. “For them to save you, so I can have you here, with me, right now”

He continues to kiss your neck, down to your shoulder, on top of your breast, your ribs. His lips keep moving south until he gets to your thigh. You try to pull your left leg away, but he is just not having it. He peppers your thigh and knee with soft kisses. “You don’t have to do that”, you whisper. “I know it’s off-putting”

“That’s where you are wrong. I see this as a beautiful sign that you survive” Jay fiercely says. “I got scars too, Y/N. Some even invisible. Are you appalled about my scars?”, he questions you.

“Of course not!” you exclaim.

“So you understand that I am not revolted by it”, his eyes look at you sincerely, before he puts your left leg on his right shoulder to kiss your scar.

Soon, he takes off his trousers and underwear, follows by pulling yours off. When he crawls back on top of you, you circle your hands around his neck and pull him down to kiss his lips passionately.

"I'm so glad I got a chance to meet you", Jay says before continues the night to make love to you.

Next on this fic : Part 6

+x Taglist +x

@shipshipshipau @itsdesiree86 @thevelvetseries @annaallicce

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Boys are raised to be men. Part 3 - Breakfast, lunch, and a shattered vase

Series Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: Things are different outside the city. When Bucky moves out of the city to live closer to his father’s best friend, Steve, he meets a peculiar girl from a strange family. She’s loved by everyone in the village and like him, she’s missing a limb. And, to Bucky’s surprise, she’s determined to make him part of her life.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 3368

Warning: This chapter contains a panic attack.

Author’s note: I am not disabled and I couldn’t ever imagine what it’s like. If you have anything to not about that aspect of the story, please send me a message so I can fix possible mistakes or misunderstandings in upcoming chapters. Also, let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates.

Light peeks through the small gap in the curtains in Bucky’s bedroom. He stares at the stream of light and the small dust particles dancing along it. His sleep hadn’t been peaceful. When he first laid down, he couldn’t get his head to rid of the thought of Y/n in his bed. When she implied he’d be good at pleasuring a woman, he had to run. He walked home with the dirtiest images in his head. This beautiful woman looked so ethereal and seemed so innocent, but had such a dirty mouth on her. His mind was playing games with him, making up scenarios of what she’d say and all the little sounds she’d make. But the picture that kept reappearing in his head was her laying on her back in his bed with her legs spread and him between her legs. Such a dirty, dirty image. And then, when he finally got to sleep, a nightmare hunted his dreams. He woke up in a cold sweat and opted to take a shower but that didn’t work. He couldn’t fall asleep again. Groaning, Bucky gets up from his bed. With a sigh, his hand gazes at his missing limb. Most mornings, it feels like it’s still there. A psychologist told him it’s called a phantom limb. It’s a horrible experience. Like your own body is rubbing it in your face that you’re not normal. Sometimes it hurts terribly. Like someone is stabbing a fork into his nonexisting limb but he can still feel it. He grabs the nearest pair of pants and puts them on, not even bothering with a shirt. Today, he’s just not going to put any effort into it. With his lack of sleep even putting on a shirt becomes the most annoying task there is. He’s happy the pair of pants he grabbed was sweatpants because he honestly didn’t even want to bother with a zipper. It takes too much time. While he’s still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he makes his way down the stairs slowly. It’s almost as if his brain wants him to count every step down and wants his bare feet to feel every cold step he touches. He finds himself in the neat kitchen as he quietly thanks his former self for swallowing his pride and hiring a moving company. Time for an easy breakfast. Coffee and cereal. At least this morning isn’t taking too much out of him. Or is it?

The doorbell rings, pulling him aggressively out of the peace he created in his kitchen. Panic takes over. He isn’t wearing a shirt and he’s supposed to open the door. What if they find his scars off-putting? What if they think he’s a monster? What if they think he’s disgusting? His kitchen doesn’t feel peaceful anymore, it feels like a panic room. The doorbell rings again. He puts his coffee down, only now realizing he had been holding it near his face. Should he open the door? No, why would he? He doesn’t have to. He feels cold sweat working its way down his back and his hand starts to tremble. A panic attack, great. The ringing continues. Shit, is he contemplating opening the damn door? He used to be a sergeant. A fearless soldier. What the hell is wrong with him? He grabs into his fruit bowl, taking out a lemon and biting straight into it. The sourness spreads in his mouth and all his thoughts focus on it. There’s a calm washing over him as his thoughts slowly fade away. It’s fine. Everything is fine. Yeah, tell that to his shaking hand. ‘Bucky! It’s just me! Y/n!‘ Y/n? What would she be doing here so early in the morning? He feels himself relax a bit more. At least she won’t think anything if he opens the door like this. ‘Are you home?‘ Oh shit, but he does have to open the door. He quickly throws the lemon in the trash and wipes the sour juice off his lips, hoping she won’t see how disheveled he was mere seconds ago. ‘Hi, sorry I wasn’t quicker,‘ he says, opening the door just a little bit with his shaky hand. Enough for her to see his face but not enough to see his full body. ‘That’s okay. I just came to ask if you’d like to get some breakfast together.‘ He watches her smile and her figure. She doesn’t look fully rested either but she did take a conscious effort to get dressed. Well, she got dressed. She’s wearing flared corduroys and a thin, sheer sweater with a sports bra underneath that is visible through the fabric of the sweater. That’s more than he managed to do. ‘I’m just having breakfast,‘ he tells her, a bit taken back by her spontaneous question, ‘and I’m not dressed.‘ ‘I can see,‘ she grins, ‘well, that’s alright. I’ll see you around then?‘ She starts to leave but Bucky doesn’t want her to leave. He doesn’t. ‘You got plans for lunch?‘ She stops in her tracks and turns back around with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes. ‘I don’t.‘ ‘I’ll pick you up at twelve?‘

Why? Why did he do that? Now he has to get dressed. He just wanted to spend the day in, hopefully, take a nap sometime today to make up for lost sleep. Now he can’t even sit down. Nerves are rushing through his body. Why was it so easy to interact with her yesterday? Was it that one image she put in his head that did it for him? Really? All it took was her suggestion? Bucky stares down the clothes in his closet like they’ll decide what to wear for him. He doesn’t want to do this at all, but at the same time, he does. Is this what it’s like to have a crush? If so, he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like the nerves, the cold sweat, and the sleepless nights. He already had those, this is only making it worse. Should he engage in these feelings? Is this really the best for him? But on the other hand, there are his therapist’s words. “James, you should try to engage with people. It’d be good for you to make some new friends.” Yeah, sure. She had also suggested moving away from the city to have a change of pace. Maybe he should call her. Ask her what he should do. Or he could go to Steve.

Steve’s house is what you would expect from a loving, old man. Carpeted floors, a big comfy couch, a reading chair, a few standing lamps next to the couch and chair, a stained coffee table, and old people smell. Their house is cozy. There are pictures on the fireplace, the windowsill, the desk in the corner. Everywhere. Bucky and Steve are seated on the big couch while Peggy works on a flower arrangement in the kitchen. She told Bucky it was to put on the dinner table and coffee table, but she might have too much so she’ll give him some as well. ‘Let me get this straight,‘ Steve says as he puts his coffee cup on the coffee table, ‘Y/n asked you to get breakfast, you said no. And then you “accidentally“ asked her to get lunch together?‘ Bucky nods. ‘That’s great!‘ ‘What?‘ ‘She’s a wonderful girl, you’re a nice lad, you-‘ ‘I don’t have a crush.‘ ‘But she does,‘ Peggy calls from the kitchen, ‘she never has breakfast with friends. She always eats breakfast with her family and if they’re not around, she eats breakfast here.‘ ‘She never eats breakfast alone?‘ Bucky’s eyes dart between Peggy and Steve, deeply curious why this girl never seems to be alone. She’s halfway through her twenties and she still lives at home while all her friends seem to either live together or alone. ‘It’s a long story,‘ Steve chimes in before Peggy can tell him everything, ‘and it’s not our story to tell. But I think it’d be good for the both of you to spend a bit more time together. I think you’ll be able to understand each other.‘ ‘How? She seems so happy-go-lucky while my head makes every breathing moment agony,‘ he admits to Steve. A concerned frown appears on Steve’s face. ‘I thought you were doing better?‘ ‘I was,‘ Bucky says quietly, letting his head hang. Steve puts a hand on the man’s shoulder to comfort him. ‘Talk to me son,‘ Steve says with a reassuring look on his face. A sting goes through Bucky’s body. He had tried to hide it but he really can’t. Steve will find out either way. ‘The kid,‘ Bucky silently tells him, tears filling his eyes, ‘he didn’t make it.‘ The kid. Steve knows who the kid is. Of course, he knows. Bucky used to talk about him often. That he was recovering, his brain activity went up, his wounds were healing. Words suddenly seem useless. Steve pulls Bucky into a comforting hug, wrapping his arms around the man. He starts to hear soft sniffling against his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know,‘ Steve whispers to Bucky, ‘but don’t force yourself into anything if you’re still mourning. You’re allowed to feel sad.‘ ‘I know,‘ Bucky silently replies, ‘but I want to move on. That’s the whole reason I moved.‘ The two let go of each other. Bucky wipes his tears away. ‘I don’t know why but yesterday was so easy. Stark invited me in like I’d known him forever, talking to Y/n felt so normal, and the people around here don’t seem to care that I’m different.‘ Steve smiles proudly. ‘But it’s like my body isn’t allowing me to move on,‘ Bucky explains further, ‘I have all these thoughts and feelings. I mean, I had a panic attack when the doorbell rang this morning. And it doesn’t seem fair that I get to live. I’ve done such horrible things.‘ Steve straightens up. ‘Now you listen to me sergeant James Barnes,‘ he states, ‘you followed orders and did the best you could. You’re alive because you pushed through. No one thought you were going to live and yet, here you are. You were given another chance and you will take it. You have to. For the kid.‘ The rough words make Bucky straighten up again. He wipes his tears and takes a deep breath. ‘For the kid,‘ Bucky repeats.

You stand in front of the mirror in your room. You look at yourself for a second. Why do you feel so nervous? It’s just Bucky. You know, the man who ran towards her when you fell on the grass, the man who insisted on walking you home, the man who got awkward when talking about sex and ran away. You have known this man for a mere two days. With a sigh, you look yourself up and down. You didn’t change much about your appearance after going out this morning. You just changed your sweater and sports bra. You’re still wearing your corduroys but you simply changed her sweater for an emerald blouse with short sleeves. You like this look. You wear it a lot. It makes you feel comfortable because it almost looks like you have two normal legs. You know you shouldn’t think like that. Like Tony always tells you: “It makes you Y/n.” You smile at your reflection. You’re literally going out for lunch with a man who is missing an arm. Why should you care about your leg? Your movements come to life. You know you have a black skirt that would look great with this blouse. You shimmy out of your pants and put on the skirt, tugging at the annoying zipper that never likes to work with you. It just enjoys getting stuck. With one last pull, it goes up all the way and you look at yourself again. You used to wear this skirt all the time. Black, silk pencil skirt that just covers your knees with a slit up your left leg, your bad leg. Your heart sinks to your stomach. No, this is not it. Maybe you shouldn’t. It just doesn’t look the same. But let’s be honest, nothing looks the same when you lose a leg. You know what Tony would say. “Your mom used to love that skirt on you and I see why. You look stunning.” ‘I do look stunning,‘ you smile shyly at your reflection, ‘I just don’t look the same.‘ The ringing of the doorbell pulls you out of your staring contest with your reflection and a wave of nerves flushes over you once again. ‘I can do this,’ you promise to yourself and you finally step away from the mirror. The whole walk to the front door feels a lot longer than it usually does. You feel each of the grooves and scratches in the wood on every other step of the stairs, notice every single creek of the wood as if it’s whining for you to step off. You hear the pitter-patter of your own foot on the hardwood floor and feel the carpet under your foot as you scurry through the living room before the pitter-patter sounds again. Every step closer to the door flushes a new tingle through your body but at this point, it’s not nerves anymore. It’s excitement. You open the front door and see Bucky standing much smaller than he did yesterday. He looks about as nervous as you but he’s holding a bouquet. Did he bring you flowers? Did he actually bring you flowers? That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. ‘Hi,‘ you shyly say as a smile creeps onto your face. Your smile seems to work its way over to him as he feels a thug on the sides of his lips. ‘Hey, these are for you,‘ he says, holding the flowers out to you. ‘Thank you so much,‘ you smile even brighter as you take them from his hands, ‘they’re beautiful. I’ll have to put them in some water.‘ You take a few steps back from the door and open it fully. ‘Do you mind coming in for a second?‘ He nods and follows you inside. He closes the door behind him and suddenly notices you’re barefoot. He looks at all the shoes in the hallway and realizes they’re a “shoes off inside the house family.” ‘Do you want me to take off my shoes,‘ he questions loudly as you have already gone into the kitchen. You peek back to the hallway. ‘No, that’s fine,‘ you assure him, ‘I still have to vacuum.‘ He feels hesitant to step into the room. ‘You don’t have to come inside if you’re not comfortable,‘ you call over to him, ‘it’ll just take a second anyway.‘ He hears some movement in the kitchen and suddenly a loud crash, like glass shattering on tile. Without thinking twice, he moves. He steps into the kitchen seeing you standing, staring at the mess you’ve made. ‘Are you okay?‘ You look up at Bucky, shock still visible in your face. ‘Yeah, I’m fine,‘ you throw him a small smile, ‘just dropped it, that’s all.‘ He walks over to see what kind of mess you’re in. You’re surrounded by glass with no way out without slashing your feet open. ‘Do you need help?‘ ‘Ehm, yes, could I, like, ehm-‘ He takes a few steps closer, crushing the glass under his boots. ‘Hold onto me,‘ he says, holding his arm out to you. You do as he says and wrap your arms around his neck. He puts his arm around your waist and easily carries you over to where the hardwood floor meets the tile, where he thinks it’s safe. You chuckle. ‘Gosh, I’m such a klutz,‘ you say to yourself, ‘let me get that cleaned up.‘ You move before he realizes you are moving. He quietly walks over to the couch and has a seat. ‘Can I help you with anything?‘ He asks when you return with a broom and dustbin. ‘In a minute,‘ you tell him, ‘if you could grab another vase when I’m done. Wouldn’t want to knock over another one.‘ ‘For sure doll.‘ ‘Doll?‘ A rush of nerves goes through his body, but when he looks at your face he doesn’t see any discomfort or awkwardness. ‘Yeah?‘ ‘Cute,‘ you grin and go to work on the glass. “Cute?“ You called him cute and smiled at him. And not in a condescending manner at all. He watches you clean the kitchen and only now notices you’re wearing a skirt again though you were wearing pants this morning. Are you doing that for him? So he doesn’t feel left out? He noticed you had changed yesterday too. No, he must be imagining it. ‘Bucky, could you help me out,‘ you call over after disposing of the broken glass. He stands up and walks over to you. You point at the vase at the top of the cabinet but you don’t move away. He stands behind you, grabbing the vase with ease whilst trying to keep his distance between their bodies. You take the vase from his hands with a grateful smile and move it to the sink. He watches your gentle movements as you cut the flowers and put them in the vase that you filled halfway with water. There’s a comfortable silence between you. ‘Okay, done.‘ you put the vase on the dinner table with a proud smile. ‘Where’d you get these?‘ ‘I was at Steve’s earlier and Peggy got too much of them at the market,‘ he explains to you, ‘she suggested I should take them home but I thought you might appreciate them more.‘ ‘Thank you,‘ you smile. In your mind, you’re planning to bring him flowers the next time you meet. Just for the fun of it. To see how he reacts. ‘Should we get going? I’m starving.‘ ‘Yes, of course.‘ Bucky walks back to the door before you, opening it for you. You quickly slip into some sneakers and grab a light jacket before following him outside. ‘Say, do you even know where we should go,‘ you ask in a teasing manner, grabbing his arm as you catch up to him. He feels himself flinch when you touch him and he feels you loosen your grip. He doesn’t want you to let go at all, so he pulls his arm towards him to cage your hands against his body. ‘I don’t.‘ You move closer to him, wrapping your hands further around his arm with a smile. You know what he was doing. ‘Okay, so let’s get some lunch, and then I’ll show you around if you feel like it. Sound good?‘ ‘Sounds great.‘

.

.

.

.

.

Tag list: @nickkie1129​ @healy-facedown

[cloveroctobers]

• TALIA NASCIMENTO•

IG info/bio: @/callmetalia333 | 524k followers | Journalist | TALIA. but u may have formerly known me as user: brdf0rdsvasquiff—rip!!!1! so don’t even think about it 😌

(23) 25 going on (26) years of age

I’ve read a canon that her name is just Talia and not short for anything & I agree with that + she’s always quick to correct someone if they get it wrong too

Her hometown is Watford, England

but she was originally born in Maidenhead in the backseat of a car during a severe rainstorm

Nonetheless watford taught her all she needed to know when it came to music

She found her first love when she heard the sound of music soundtrack for the v first time as a young girl but is often nervous to admit that?

her father is Brazilian and is a firefighter

her mother is Bulgarian and works as a secretary in a elementary school

her mother is more traditional than her father when it comes to their cultures

I originally felt like she gave only child vibes but I can deff see her giving off big sis energy since she did mention she has a younger brother

V protective over her little brother

there’s a three year age difference

her parents have separated multiple times before which caused a riff in the family dynamic

The constant coming and going from her dad became quite irritating

And Talia was the most vocal by wanting them to figure it out and NOT get a divorce

Which led to talia’s commitment issues when it came to relationships herself

was born with blue eyes yet they shifted to brown once she grew

“Tom-boy” growing up & still is

netball was her sport and man was it something to see her play?! She was quick on her feet and can definitely shoot far-range with ease

Always down for contact sports too

She lost count how many bruises and scrapes she would come home with much to her mother’s horror but she would always brush it off—it was never that big of a deal to her

yet she takes time in healing her scars with homemade treatments or purchases from beauty stores when she wants to show her legs off

she didn’t get into “girly” wear until recently, she never thought too much of her body or when she started to get curves...she always hid that behind big tee’s, fitted jeans, and kicks—that’s what she was used to

she’s got broad shoulders and toned arms

had thick bushy brows that almost formed a uni brow growing up

her mother used to have her hair always plaited since she is very superstitious, believing that “the devil lives in the woman’s hair”

yet talia’s hair texture was much different than her mother’s, maybe due to the fact that her mother always had her hair up and out of the way? Talia’s hair is much bigger, heavier, and naturally curly

+ her mother used to say some harsh things in Bulgarian about her hair — that says a lot when you’re taught to hate your hair trust!!!

when she got a little older and able to manage her own hair + afford it, She learned how to love it herself and that’s all that mattered. Her hair became v important to her, it was her source of comfort

that’s the only thing she’s high maintenance about tbh

she spends a lot of money on her hair but devacurl can still piss off

diffusing is one of her fav things to do to her hair—besides washing it, and deep conditioning, after a night of letting her hair air-dry

loves rose jam

has a embroidery machine, along with a collection of her work but only one piece is showcased in her flat. She didn’t want her place to look completely like her bába’s (Bulgarian: grandmother)

her closet is filled with many Havaianas, they’re all piled up in a wicker basket and ready to tumble over on her top shelf... if she moves one of the ceramic pots her mother left in her flat for luck, that whole shelf might come crashing down

Swears drinking guaraná the next morning cures any hangover you may have

commonly sleeps in big t-shirts and panties or not or booty shorts depending on her time of the month—it’s freeing to her

Has torn her achilles due to whatever contact sport she decided to join in on during a beach vacation with her mates

has a touch of arthritis in her shoulder

this is where her love for massages came from due to injuries she’s faced

+ It’s always a good sign when you can make someone else feel better ya know?

She’s been told she’s great with her hands ;) it all takes practice

bi mami *cringe* but she likes what she likes, and feels what she feels

she kinda has a type but doesn’t want to admit that

her mother doesn’t understand this but her father easily accepted her preference/orientation

her little brother was the first she came out to, “alright!...you still suck”

always wants to fix situations WHEN it comes to HER friends but is oblivious when it’s come to her own issues whether its in relationships/friendships +

was called out by one of her friends who she often argues/butts heads with from time to time “you’re always sticking your nose in people’s business but can’t solve your own shit!”

maybe it’s the journalist in her? she’s not afraid to ask questions or look at things from a outside perspective

her group of friends are all from different ethnic backgrounds to Indian to Ethiopian

has been in and out of relationships...maybe had one stable relationship? Outside of mc but that relationship failed after a year and she feels it has something to do with her parents and how she watched their relationship unfold but won’t openly admit that

Doesn’t like to argue in relationships and often is a little undermining with how she responses to her partner’s feelings...she’s trying to be better at being understanding and listening, her mother is like this with her father

Aquarius girl + Scorpio moon + Taurus rising

loves the water + watching water sports rather than playing them since she almost drowned once by letting her confidence get the best of her

used to be a directioner and isn’t ashamed to admit that!

take me home album stan 100% bitch there’s no point in arguing!!! Buh bye!!!

She is ashamed however to admit that she used to write for them, mostly ziam fics with a touch of Harry thrown in the mix as well...take that how u will

has a few merch pieces as well, they’re mostly loungewear + that powdery perfume they dropped. YES she still has it, no she won’t sell it to u

still supports them on the low since you know, she’s a music journalist and reviewing songs is what she makes a living for so why the hell not? They will always hold a special place in her heart. She grew with those boys

she’s not in denial like Hannah that they’re get back together

If someone wants her to film a reaction vid to zayn’s new album or release a written review? She WILL. Her top 3? 1. When loves around ft Syd 2. Outside 3. Unfuckwitable

If someone wants to hear her thoughts on Harry’s mv’s + breaking down his lyrics, she’ll tell you what you NEED to know whether U agree or not she don’t give a damn lol

Can throw hands and stomp a bitch out if she needs too. Has gotten kicked out of clubs/bars for defending her friends mainly not because someone chatted shit to her, that’s whatever but once you cross her friends? It’s on

Allegra got lucky 🦶🏼☕️ and Lucy

remained super close with jake and tim as expected...Rohan’s cool too ofc! but she’s not here for their rapping shit sorry. She’ll hit them both with a quick side eye and snarl if they start or if jake wants to recite some poetry. She’s outta here

Talia hardly had issues making friends easily with the boys it was always harder with the girls :/

they hang out all the time!

she actually became close with sammi as well, which was nice to have another girl friend around even tho they weren’t together in the house long like the others. She’s spontaneous, cute, resourceful, and kind so talia had no issue reaching out to her first to see what she was about outside of the show

don’t even ask her about what she thinks of the new seasons, she’s not here to chat shit and have her words twisted like she’s watched many of the cast deal with. If you want to talk about the over kill use of pop as the soundtrack for each season, then yeah she’ll talk to you about that

doesn’t use social media much, she finds it funny how whenever she does pop back in people are begging her to post SOMETHING so that they know that she’s alive

Pretty private

she also can’t grasp why they want her to do the bussit challenge? Lmao like hey don’t get her wrong, some of them were pretty great but she’s barely got a bum to bounce and little booties matter ofc!!! but she can’t see herself doing it unless she’s drunk off her arse!!!

maybe mc can convince her...for the fans duh!!! “Give the ppl what they want! Talia! It’s not like you won’t be around music!” “I’ll think about it...nah.”

she’s been busier since the show, able to tour more and WRITE which is what she loves to do

Her secret pleasure is watching those nurse shows and firefighting shows in her free time and those singing shows you already know that’s a given

Wanted to be some form of a nurse growing up but knew she could help people in another way

*inserts* “music Is The best Medicine” overused but true quote here!!

I feel like she’s a r&b lover

listens to those hour long rain sounds on YouTube to help herself fall asleep

she‘s not the best cook but she’s a foodie and she’s down to try new food always

occasionally her and Tim are jake’s Guinea pigs when he’s whipping something up for his menu 

and hates eating the same things all the time unless it’s breakfast! There’s not too much more you can do with that

that’s also her specialty, making breakfast for u in bed

Morning afters with her are intimate but humorous. She’ll poke fun if you’re both looking crazy, always joking and in the best mood whether things got physical or not she’s just happy to have you here 🥲

I think her love language is quality time

if you’re playing her route and Lucy is the ex, and you’ve decided to fully commit to each other I deff see Lucy still trying to pull some shit outside of the show just because she feels like she can but once Talia see’s that it’s really starting to get to you despite how much you try to brush it off or snap at Lucy or even Talia!!! Talia is on Lucy’s ass in seconds! She doesn’t need a ex to ruin her possible future , “you’re not gonna fuck up this good thing I’ve got just cause you’re flimsy at relationships babe, so go be a cunt somewhere else or you’ll be sorry. I promise.”

anthem: Snow Tha Product — Shut up

[katcadecascade]

Reuniting Strings (Zuko’s Scar oneshot)

Summary: 

Toph asks, “What were you in for?”

“You can’t just ask that!”

“I just did, Sugar Queen.”

Chit Sang laughed over them, “Are you sure you all want to know? It’s a long story.”

An array of emotions is on everyone’s faces. Toph, Aang, The Duke, and Teo are genuinely curious. As fellow ex-prisoners, Hakoda, Haru, and Suki don’t seek an explanation but like Sokka and Katara, they want the topic to get away from Azula. 

Zuko knows that the people who end up in the Boiling Rock are people the Fire Nation wants to ignore. It could be for any reason, politics or crime or revolts be it violently or nonviolently, he doesn’t know where Chit Sang categories into.

“Oh that sounds intriguing,” Toph answers for them, “Yes please.”

Chit Sang looks around the circle, mentally preparing his story. His eyes land on Zuko. The older man doesn’t appear nervous but there is something hesitant in the way he unlocks the tension in his jaw.

“I used to be a guard in the royal palace, tasked with escorting generals in and out of their meetings.”

Immediately, Zuko freezes.

Because they used a fishing trip as their cover story for doing a prison break, Toph bullied Zuko and Sokka into actually fishing for dinner.

Toph was craving fish.

She also punched both boys’ arms because she cares.

Fortunately they have Hakoda, an expert fisherman, to help. Unfortunately Katara tagged along because she wanted family bonding. She shooed Zuko away as the family headed to the nearest river.

He doesn’t complain about that so he reviews Aang on his homework.

Zuko never really imagined himself as a teacher, that was Uncle’s role and honestly Zuko was not the best student. While Aang would occasionally whine or stumble through a kata, the kid wasn’t as near temperamental as Zuko once was, thank the spirits.

It’s a bit relaxing to focus on Aang’s training after the adventure Zuko and Sokka just did. Zuko just needed to get his mind off of Azula. There was a lot to unpack there, especially her supposed case with Suki, but Zuko believes a good hour of not thinking about his sister is deserved.

The Water Tribe family gets to have time together, being happy that they’re all alive. Zuko can’t help but notice that only the siblings have ever talked about parents. 

So after Zuko ends Aang’s bending review, the Avatar does his cool down stretches and says, “I wonder what number of prison breakouts this is. We did a lot.”

Zuko doesn’t blink at this fact, too used to the hectic stories they vaguely explained.

“Well, be prepared for Sokka to retell this break out or maybe the Chief will?”

“Yeah, Hakoda and also Bato are great storytellers,” Aang nods enthusiastically. As they leave the temple’s training grounds, Aang comments, “Gotta say, Sokka’s the last person I thought would spontaneously do a prison break.”

“What. Is Katara more revolutionary?” Aang just stares at Zuko. “Okay yeah, she is but Sokka really wanted to do this. He risked it all to save his dad.”

“Sokka really loves his dad, Katara too of course, but for him it was about proving himself as a warrior.”

“Yeah, he told me something similar,” Zuko said.

“They’d do anything for their family,” the young boy smiles. In the slow sunset, a shadow lingers over Aang as he glances over to a temple mural of nomads. “The first time I went into the Avatar State was back at the Southern Air Temple.”

A huge amount of dread burns low in Zuko’s gut.

“Oh Aang,” he trailed off, thinking of the century old skeletons.

Aang stood in front of the mural. It depicted monks shaping clouds. “Katara calmed me down, said that I was a part of their family now. And when we met Bato, he said I was a part of the Tribe too.”

Zuko moved to Aang’s right side, “The Water Tribe is all about community, right?”

He nodded, “Monk Gyatso and the others were my people but they taught me that anyone could be my family.” A conflicted expression flickers over Aang. “I met a guru. He said that in order for me to master the Avatar State I have to let go of my love. I couldn’t accept that. All I had was love and I don’t want to give that up.”

There is so much about the Avatar that people will never know. Their sacrifices and decisions and mistakes, it is influential to the world and the spirits. Only a selected few will be able to see how each Avatar lives and dies.

Zuko is lucky to know the depths of two Avatars.

“If there’s one thing I know,” Zuko places a hand on Aang’s shoulder, “is that the Avatar will always find love and family. Like Roku.”

Aang smiles brightly, “Yeah, like Roku. He showed me his past.” The smile dips into a loopy hopeful tone, “He got married to a girl he had a crush on.”

Zuko knows that he’s thinking about Katara but Zuko can’t help but latch onto something else, “Was that all of his family that you learned?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Aang questioningly stares at Zuko with that Avatar wisdom, “Why, is there something you know, Zuko?”

Feeling targeted, Zuko quickly weighs the consequences of telling Aang.

Is he prepared for dealing with an energetic all-powerful kid?

In the corner of his eye, the sunset shines fading pinks and oranges on the faded murals of a nearly gone nation.

Yeah, there’s no harm in telling Aang he has a bigger family than he thought.

“So Roku is my mom’s grandfather.”

Immediately, Aang is hugging Zuko. No doubting, just clear acceptance and joy. In return, Zuko slowly hugs back, gently butting his head against Aang’s. Whatever is going on in that bald noggin, Zuko hopes that this helps him.

When they reach the main temple area, the sky is still that warm orange tone. Everyone has rounded up for the hefty amount of fish the Water Tribe has brought. A fire is already up with fish skewers roasting.

Sokka waves Zuko over for the empty spot next to him and Suki. As for Aang, he normally sits with Katara who has a vegetable meal readied but Aang takes his sweet time before that.

The Avatar’s super big grin is the only warning of Zuko’s misery.

“We have another family reunion!”

“I regret telling you.”

Zuko covers his eyes, not ready to see everyone’s confusion shift into amusement.

“What are you on about Twinkle Toes?”

“Aang stop.” Zuko is ignored.

“I’m Zuko’s great-grandfather!”

Unlike Aang, there is casted doubt and confusion so Zuko explains shortly, “Uncle told me that Avatar Roku is my ancestor.”

“The Dragon of the West?” Chit Sang, their impromptu prison break escapee, specified in the only context he knew.

“Yep.”

Back to the main topic, Sokka laughs, “So wait that means Aang has parental authority over you.”

“It does not.”

“Come on Zuko,” Aang elbows him jollily, “Learn to respect your elders.”

“Maybe after you master firebending I will,” he huffed, moving away to sit by Sokka.

“Don’t turn your back on me mister!” Aang poorly used an old man impersonation.

At least the jest ends there as dinner gets served.

That’s when Toph points out, “That also makes you Azula’s great-grandfather.”

Everyone gets quiet, preferring to chew on their fish kabobs.

“Huh,” Aang says around his fried eggplant, “I’m not ready for that family reunion.”

“I think she’d be elated,” Suki said, “Azula loves drama.”

“She loves reactions,” Zuko specified, “thrives off it really.”

“Oh and then she’ll do that scowl before forcing a smile.”

“It’s not forced. She’s just instantly thinking ten steps ahead where she’s winning.”

Suki taps her chin, “Okay, that makes a lot more sense.”

Being in the middle, Sokka was constantly whipping his head back and forth. Eventually a look of recognition passes through Sokka, Toph, and Aang. Yet out loud, someone else comments on this.

“It’s you who the Princess always visited,” Chit Sang concluded as if he solved a big mystery. “We heard rumors that she was interrogating a prisoner but no one really knew who.”

“Well she can’t visit me anymore,” Suki chirped and bit fiercely into her fish. She probably senses Sokka’s distress because she automatically leans into his side.

“What about you?” Toph asks, “What were you in for?”

It’s like Toph knows she’s the only one who can appall Katara without any consequences.

“You can’t just ask that!”

“I just did, Sugar Queen.”

Chit Sang laughed over them, “Are you sure you all want to know? It’s a long story.”

An array of emotions is on everyone’s faces. Toph, Aang, The Duke, and Teo are genuinely curious. As fellow ex-prisoners, Hakoda, Haru, and Suki don’t seek an explanation but like Sokka and Katara, they want the topic to get away from Azula.

Zuko knows that the people who end up in the Boiling Rock are people the Fire Nation wants to ignore. It could be for any reason, politics or crime or revolts be it violently or nonviolently, he doesn’t know where Chit Sang categories into.

“Oh that sounds intriguing,” Toph answers for them, “Yes please.”

Chit Sang looks around the circle, mentally preparing his story. His eyes land on Zuko. The older man doesn’t appear nervous but there is something hesitant in the way he unlocks the tension in his jaw.

“I used to be a guard in the royal palace, tasked with escorting generals in and out of their meetings.”

Immediately, Zuko freezes.

He escorted generals to war councils. That detail lights something on fire in Zuko as Chit Sang continues.

“These old generals get a little too comfortable in the palace, thinking that they’re rubbing elbows with the elites. One day I escorted a group of generals out. One starts badmouthing something that went down in the meeting, how his speech or whatever got interrupted.”

No…

Oh no.

Everyone around the campfire is quiet. Zuko can’t run off without any of them noticing. Spirits, Sokka is right next to him too. Zuko tries to ignore Sokka glancing at him, likely sensing the distress Zuko is keeping at bay.

“The general complained about the naivety of a kid. How if soldiers enlisted for war, they should be prepared to die for whatever plan they and the Fire Lord approves of.”

Subtly, Zuko takes a deep breath.

No, he decides, he has to stay seated. Zuko owes that to the victims of this story. He also ignores the numb feeling in his legs, shackles of shame rooting him.

Somehow Chit Sang is a part of this three year old tale. It feels alarmingly similar to another man Zuko knows.

“That’s when I recognized this general.” He rolled his eyes with fond amusement, “My brother complained all about him in his letters.”

Hakoda laughed, instantly getting it, “New warriors just love to rag on their captains, don’t they?”

“It’s the best way to make friends in your fraction,” agrees Chit Sang but his lighthearted tone is gone as he states, “My younger brother and cousin were of the 41st Division.”

(“I have a daughter, a little older than you. She joined the army and hoped to later transfer over to the navy unit. She really wanted to serve under my command but first she was sent off to with the other new recruits.”)

A weight drops in Zuko’s stomach as two conversations are overlapping, one around the temple’s fire and another from the past. It brings back cold sea air with its words.

“Anyway, the general keeps yapping. The interrupter is sentenced to fight for his honor. In my head I can’t understand why this went to such extremes. That is until the day of the Agni Kai match.”

“What’s an Agni Kai?” Teo asked.

“A traditional firebending duel of honor,” the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe answered much to everyone’s surprise. “I always heard stories but it’s usually about soldiers, not generals.”

“It used to be a just soldier thing,” Chit Sang nodded, “or maybe you’re thinking about something we called the Ten Duel Commandments. Anyway, Agni Kai fights eventually became a political power move. This one is different. Only the top elites and highest ranking officers were allowed access. But this was the royal arena, there were guards stationed at the doors outside.”

“Is this where you come in?” Aang leaned in, both impatient and eager to learn more. “You got arrested for stopping the fight?”

“No,” he said with shame, “I didn’t know who was up to fight. I’m not sure anyone really knew until it happened. Even then, I don’t know if anyone had the guts to stop this match.” Chit Sang drew in a deep breath and the campfire mirrored it. “How could a simple guard stop the Fire Lord from burning his… young subject.”

Zuko bit his lip. The need to plead and beg Chit Sang to stop talking is at the forefront of his mind.

Instead when Chit Sang meets his gaze, Zuko nods subtly.

He wants to hear the end of this.

“We all wondered why this happened, how something so disrespectful occurred in the front of the Fire Lord for this Agni Kai. The guards and I tried to piece it together the day after. One guard heard it was a dispute in the war meeting, I knew it was about a plan for the 41st, and another guy remembered how that general was notorious for losing his youngest troops.”

The firebenders could all see everyone trying to piece this together but they needed one last jigsaw to truly understand.

A part of Zuko wants them to never understand, to never know the end of this tale. He has a feeling if he asks Chit Sang to stop he will but Zuko actually prefers his narration over whatever Zuko could attempt.

Zuko nods again. He ignores Sokka’s inquisitive glance.

“Then two guards spoke up, said that General Iroh let the Crown Prince into the meeting.”

He had seconds to prepare himself so Zuko chose to stare at the fire and not the many eyes targeted on him.

“It wasn’t a pretty picture even with the scattered information I had,” Chit Sang filled up the silence, recounting the details, “The Prince spoke against a plan that would send the 41st Division to death. He participated in an Agni Kai for his beliefs but chose to not fight against his father.”

Zuko doesn’t look up, his eyes too captured by the bright whites and oranges dancing. He thinks his eyes are tearing up from the heat.

“I sent it all in a letter to my brother. I had no clue if it reached him.”

(“Months passed and I haven’t received any letters from my daughter. I got worried. She sent me so many letters during her basic training. I thought for sure I’d get a letter about her traveling through the Earth Kingdom.”)

“We don’t know what happened to them and it wasn’t long before I got arrested for leaking news about a royal scandal that could be detrimental for the Fire Lord’s image.”

“That’s why you were arrested?” Sokka barked with so much scorn, “You warned a troop that their general was sending them to die and Zuko, he…”

Zuko wills himself not to look at Sokka. He can’t imagine what is on everyone’s faces.

“Yep,” Chit Sang popped, “I got shoved into the next prison transport and haven’t heard any news of the outside world ever since.”

(“Instead I and other families got silence or were told to wait for any reports. I pulled some favors to get answers but it was unsuccessful.”)

In a small voice, Toph asks, “You don’t know what happened to the division?”

That fact has haunted the prince for years. It automatically had Zuko hopelessly say, “No one does.”

(“An official report said that the 41st Division reached the Earth Kingdom and that was it. Nothing else. No letters ever came back from the general in charge.”)

“Actually,” Chit Sang began and this time, Zuko tears his eyes away from the fire to meet the other bender, “My buddy landed in the Boiling Rock a year later and told me something. At some point, my mom got a letter. It was from my brother. The 41st didn’t believe my info and by then they were already docked at the Earth Kingdom, headed to secure a hill near Ba Sing Se.”

It’s like Zuko’s tongue can’t decide if it’s too heavy to move or impatient to spew words. “And then what?”

He meets Zuko’s eyes, a fateful determination flaring up, “My brother and cousin vowed to keep their division alive, whatever it takes. They didn’t write back what they planned to do. They did mention that they’ll do it for the Crown Prince because he saw honor in them.”

“I don’t, what I did,” the former prince shook his head, his voice raw and cracking, “Are they even alive?”

“I have hope,” he said, “That’s all I got left.”

There’s a heavy emptiness in the temple ruins. Zuko tries his mightiest to not make a noise as tears well up in his eyes.

After all these years, Zuko gets new information. It’s not the best one, a vague confirmation at best, but it’s still something. A burning part inside rip apart the hovering sentence of the 41st Division seeing honor in their Prince.

Now if only Zuko and the soldiers’ family knew if those kids are alive or not.

Sokka broke the solemn silence, “Hey Chit Sang, what did your brother looks like?”

The Water Tribe boy gets a lot of raised eyebrows but Chit Sang shrugs.

“He looks kind of like me but bigger eyebrows,” he described, “and my cousin, she has a mole under her nose.”

Now that sends an alarmed look between the original trio.

“Wait Sokka, you don’t think,” Katara trailed off.

“What,” Zuko rushed, his body shaking, “What are you talking about?”

“My first firebending teacher,” Aang answered with a peace that Zuko envies, “Jeong Jeong the Deserter. At his camp there were a lot of people, both young and old.”

“One of them, she had a mole right here,” Sokka tapped under his right nostril.

“That’s my cousin,” Chit Sang breathed out heavily. In fact his whole body nearly collapses with that breath.

This man got his resolution but others have not.

“Did you learn any of their names?” Zuko asked with an intensity he can’t contain.

Three heads shook no.

(“What’s your daughter’s name, Lieutenant?”)

(“Jiang.”)

“Jiang,” Zuko repeated, not that any of them knew he was repeating the name, “Did you hear that name at all at that camp?”

Again they shake their heads but Chit Sang tilts his.

“Jiang, right? Wong and Kari mentioned her in a letter,” the older firebender smiled reassuringly. “She’d be with them. They’re all good friends.”

Hope, it’s hard to believe in hope alone because most of the time it is shapeless. At this moment in a temple ruins, surrounded by people who were originally known as his enemies, they gave Zuko hope.

“They’re alive,” he utters between trembling lips.

“Because of you,” The former guardsman stood up and walked over to him. “You stood up for them, burned for them,” Chit Sang bowed to Zuko, his hands in form of the symbolic flame, “You have my gratitude, My Prince.”

(“Thank you for seeing the value in their lives, My Prince,” Lieutenant Jee bowed, his hands formed the symbolic flame.)

Around Zuko there are a million other conversations. Shocked and processing this all, appalment at the war council, disbelief the horrible reality of who the Fire Lord is, and how this is the life that shaped Zuko.

It all burns Zuko. The origin of his inferno was his honor, a subjective identity he burned into his soul. He may have regrets for speaking out of turn, for disobeying his father’s order to fight, and for a thousand other things but Zuko does not regret speaking against the planned death of the 41st Division.

The price of that was not the burn or the scar or the banishment but the unknown if his efforts meant anything.

Zuko stands with shaking knees, still registering the massive amount of information, and bows to Chit Sang, his hands formed as the respected flame.

“Thank you,” Zuko’s throat is beyond dry, his core knocked out of orbit only to rush back to into place.

The silence returned to hear his small words, vulnerable to their sudden new light of Zuko.

Now that Zuko is paying attention, most of his friends look sick as they stare at his scar. He doesn’t mean to avoid their eyes but he faces Toph, her blindness taking the edge away from all of this.

Yet again, Toph is the one to initial the heavy topic, “Your father and your scar…”

He doesn’t want to say it out loud, it would be easier to just nod or do nothing but it’s Toph, Zuko doesn’t want to leave her in silence. “Yes, he gave me my scar.”

That is the first time Zuko has ever verbally acknowledged the rawest truth of that event.

For years he worded around it with verbs of rightly punished, branded as dishonor, or a million other self-loathing ideologies that burned angry, pride, and shame throughout Zuko.

He takes a deep breath and on the exhale, Zuko feels a little lighter.

-

This is chapter ten of my fic Petals in a Storm. It is an abo au of Avatar and I know that isn’t really everyone’s cup of tea. But this chapter is one my favorite things I have ever written since it is my take on the whole Zuko’s scar trope. So I edited out the minor bits about abo and this could be read as just another oneshot about the scar. 

Thanks for reading! 

[eventidespirits]

Nicknames: Laur, Laurie Aliases: Jonathan Legerdemain, Jean Nuit Apparent Age: “30″ True Age: 51 Gender: Cis Man Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Demiromantic Gray-Ace Birthday: January 6th Occupation: Occultist, Bookstore Owner Species: Vampire (Nightingale) Residence: The Vista Rosa neighborhood in Santa Marta, CA.

𝔸𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖

Height: 5′10 Build: Average height, has a sort of stereotypical “scrawny nerd” sort of build with a soft layer of fat/soft belly and not a lot of muscular definition. He has long arms and legs in comparison to his torso which makes him look taller than he actually is. Face Shape: Somewhere between an oval and a diamond, his facial features are fine and delicate with a long straight nose. Eye Color/Shape: Vibrant, unnaturally bright ocean-blue with cat-like slitted pupils. Large but set deep within his face with heavy, tired looking lids and deep dark circles which gives him a sort of permanent “resting bitch face”.  Hair Color/Style: Slate Gray. Laurent’s hair is mostly straight with a slight wave to it (2A) and usually worn tied into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. he has long, messy bangs that usually hang in his face. Skin Color/Texture: Very pale and desaturated with a distinct yellow undertone. He has soft skin but has a lot of small scars and marks on his hands from various occult work he did while he was still a mortal. Distinguishing Features: First off, Laurent is prematurely gray. He also has a number of tattoos (a tattoo of a magical circle for protection on his back, another protection sigil on his chest over the heart, has a tattoo of an open eye on the back of his neck). He also wears glasses. Posture: Very “proper” posture -- stands straight up but there’s that slight hunch to his shoulders that comes from hours bent over books and papers. He moves very purposefully and a little bit stiffly with quiet footsteps.  Voice: Soft and understated, with the remnants of a Quebecois accent. Laurent rarely raises his voice and his speech is usually curt and clipped, possibly even seeming rude or sarcastic at times. Clothing Style: Lots of blacks and blues with some cream and charcoal. He tends to wear comfortable clothing that could pass for being formal in most situations -- black slacks, button-downs over v-necks, turtleneck sweaters and cardigans. A lot of his looks vaguely recall the 1980s when it comes to sweater choice.  Notable Mannerisms: Scrunches his nose when he’s thinking deeply about something  but otherwise seems to not have a lot of particularly unique or defining mannerisms (almost purposefully so)

𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤

Physical: Lockpicking, breaking and entering Social: What Social Skills? Basic etiquette, subterfuge/lying, manipulation Talents: Calligraphy, Poetry, Prose, getting in over his head Knowledges: Greek, Latin, French, currently learning German, Masters in Psychology, Traditional Magic, Ritual Magic, Sigilcraft, Herbalism Hobbies: Reading, Writing, Gardening, Cooking Special: Basic Nightingale abilities, some natural magical talent (mostly lost after becoming a vampire), spirit sight, minor precognition 

ℙ𝕤𝕪𝕔𝕙𝕖

Strengths: Clever, quick witted, tenacious, detail-oriented, good concentration, inquisitive, intuitive, dedicated, loyal, strong sense of internal morals Weaknesses: overly curious, stubborn, too smart for his own good, overly self-reflective, can be cold and emotionally distant, closed off from his emotions, rude, irritable, afraid of intimacy, standoffish, shy, just generally bad at people. Goals: To gather all the knowledge there is to be had, especially where it concerns the occult; to learn proper spontaneous magic Fears: Loss of knowledge, loss of control, true death, what lurks beneath santa marta (but not enough to stop researching it) Ideals/Morals:  Laurent is willing to do almost anything to gain knowledge but there are a few things that disgust him and he finds morally abhorrent -- like hurting children or murder (notably -- he sees a difference between killing and murder but also tries to avoid killing people as a general rule unless it’s in self-defense) Guiding Philosphies: Knowledge is Power Sense of Humor: Very dry and sarcastic. He’s definitely the person to deliver a sarcastic quip with a totally straight face and it leaves people wondering if he even has  a sense of humor. Overall Personality: Laurent is kind of a prickly bastard. He’s introverted and introspective and has very little interest in being around or talking to people. He can pretend to be polite very well (and expects others to behave in a similar way). He prefers things to be well-structured and mostly predictable, he has trouble dealing with sudden intense changes. He seems very distant and cold to most people -- utterly focused on his work over anything else.

𝕃𝕚𝕗𝕖

Best Memory: Worst Memory: Biggest Accomplishment: Prized Possessions: Favorite Colors: Favorite Foods: Favorite Scents: Favorite Songs: Can't Leave Home Without:

ℍ𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪

Birthplace: Suburbs of Montreal, Quebec Childhood: Growing up, Laurent’s parents were usually very busy, both having careers that demanded a lot of their attention. He and Louis were often left to sort of fend for themselves (classic latch-key kids). Being the more shy of the twins, Laurent often relied on Louis to make friends -- having few friends that he could consider his specifically. At around the age of 11, while playing at his neighbor’s house after school with Louis, their friend Alex and his younger sister Madeline, the four of them found a oujia board and did what any group of pre-teens would do: they turned out the lights and used it. Unfortunately for the twins, the house was old and the board itself connected to a rather angry spirit that would attach itself to Louis and scare the hell out of the other three children. This is what would start Laurent’s interest in the occult but it was what would happen the next summer that would cement it as an obsession... While playing in a local park, something that Laurent could neither identify or describe beyond “a writhing mass of eyes, grasping tendrils and eyes” would pluck Alex from the face of existence -- not only taking the 12 year old but erasing any sign that he had ever existed to begin with from the minds of everyone but Laurent. 

Adolescence: At thirteen, Laurent’s family moved to Santa Marta, California. Highschool was difficult for Laurent, who had started to go prematurely gray by the time he was 14 and was shy and bookish. He had to deal with a lot of bullying and it cemented his irritability. 

He did, however, thanks to the unique nature of Santa Marta (attracting the supernatural) manage to make friends with a Witch by the name of Martin. They’d also date for about a year in secret before both decided that it just wasn’t working. However, the pair of them were obsessed with the occult and the presence of the “Old Gods” which were present in constant whispers in Santa Marta. This is where Laurent got into most of the trouble he would as a teenager -- breaking into abandoned buildings looking for ghosts and signs of the supernatural as well as getting 100% illegal tattoos in dangerous settings (most notably, he had his protection sigil done by Martin in his basement along with the eye on the back of his neck).

Somehow, probably just due to luck, Laurent never actually got in legal trouble for any of the crazy shit he did as a teen but that luck wouldn’t last.

Adulthood: In his desperate search for occult knowledge, Laurent would end up crossing paths with a woman named Claudine -- a Nightingale who was also an accomplished occultist and a powerful witch in her own right. He would end up stealing several of her important research journals and end up becoming her “assistant” at the age of twenty-one (she normally would’ve killed him for it but was impressed by his dedication and natural skill). She would keep him on as an assistant, teaching him about the occult and preparing him for life in the Nightingale Court before finally turning him in 2000.

Recent: In 2010, Claudine would disappear suddenly -- leaving behind only a note about her own research into the “thing that lurks beneath the streets of this blighted metropolis” and pointing Laurent in a similar direction. During his training with Claudine, Laurent would run into mentions of the “Myriad Eyes” multiple times, especially when researching the occult history of Santa Marta... A phrase that he quickly came to associate with the thing that had taken his childhood friend.

Currently, he’s running a bookstore in Vista Rosa called “Eigengrau Books” and living in an apartment located above the store. 

ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡𝕤

Family: Jean DeFantome (Father; deceased), Emily DeFantome (Mother), Louis DeFantome (twin brother; estranged) Lovers: Martin Schwartz (former), Camellia O’Friel (current) Friends: Isaac Nerezza (works at his bookstore), Claudine Legerdemain (Missing) Enemies: ??? Other: ???

ℝ𝕖𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕤

Income: Middle-class Residences: A two bedroom apartment above his bookstore. Vehicles: Black 2010 Ford Fiesta Van

[danganronpa-imagines-ftw]

I’d like to request some NSFW for the SDR2 & V3 females letting their male s/o see them completely naked for the first time

Alrighty then, I can do that.

This post isn’t really explicit, but it’s still semi-nsfw, so under the cut it goes.

Also, Maki’s has some V3-2 spoilers, so watch out for that

SDR2 & NDRV3 Females Letting Their Male S/O See Them Naked For the First Time

SDR2:

Chiaki Nanami:

-She doesn’t make it a huge deal, to be honest

-She will wait quite a bit until she does so, though

-Once you two have been dating long enough, though, you decided to take it to the next level

-Once she’s undressed, she’ll be a little blushy

-She’s not chubby per-say, but does have some body fat, so she’s a little self-conscious

-Once you tell her that you don’t care about that, and think she’s beautiful the way she is, though, she’ll lighten up a bit

Mikan Tsumiki:

-A good portion of your relationship with Mikan is spent undoing the years of abuse she’s gone through

-Including how she offers to strip everytime she thinks you’re mad at her

-So when you two decided to do something a little more intimate, you have to make sure it’s what Mikan wants, and not just something she’s going along with in order to not make you mad

-Once she’s done though, she’ll start apologizing for looking hideous and like a pig (even though she looks amazing as usual oops did my thirst slip in a little my bad)

-So you go over how she’s not a pig, and that’s she’s beautiful and you love her

-The whole time you two are doing the do, you’ll remind her how beautiful she is (because let me tell ya body worship is a wonderful thing y’all)

Mahiru Koizumi:

-Mahiru is pretty traditional and reserved when it comes to relationships, so it’ll be a while before you two take it to that level

-But once you do, you can garuntee she’ll be super tsundere about it

-Well, as tsundere as she can be about. She turns as red as her hair, and doesn’t make eye contact, so any half-assed comment she tries to throw out is muttered so quietly you can hardly hear it

-Just give her an innocent kiss on the lips and tell her you love her, and even though her tsundere with increase tenfold, she secretly loves it

Sonia Nevermind:

-Since she’s a princess, she has certain values that she always holds

-So it’ll probably be a while with her as well

-But when the day comes when you two decide to try something new, she really doesn’t give it much thought

-She’s pretty confident in her body after all

-So she has no problem getting right down to business shortly after

Akane Owari:

-She doesn’t care

-Not only is she plenty confident in her body, but she also doesn’t really get embarrassed easily

-I mean, have you read the mangas? She literally got naked in front of everyone. Mahiru had to put her swimsuit back on for her (and even then she immediantely took it off anyway)

-So yeah, don’t expect much thought to be put into it

Peko Pekoyama:

-Another confident one

-Though, unlike Akane, she’s not just going to get naked whenever she feels like it

-She likes taking relationships slowly, so it’ll be a while before you two doing anything of that sort

-And when she does, she doesn’t really care too much about you seeing her like this

-Not to say she may be a little more blushy than usual

Ibuki Mioda:

-I mean, she’s super spontaneous and eccentric, so you never know what’s gonna happen and when

-So you were a bit surprised when she just casually walked into whatever room you were in, butt naked

-She’s really just doing it to tease you

-Is she red? Not in the slightest.

-Is she embarrassed? Not in the slightest.

-Did you take the hint and follow her to the bedroom? Absolutely.

Hiyoko Saionji:

-Calls you a pedophile the first time you mention anything of that sort

-I mean, you can’t necessarily blame her, she’s dealt with a fair bit of those guys during her shows

-She’ll agree though, still rather embarrassed

-She can be a little insecure about her height and flat chest (god now I’m starting to feel like a pedo)

-Just assure her you love her, and she’ll ease up a little

-...that’s not to say the tsundere behavior will stop however...

NDRV3

Kaede Akamatsu:

-Tries to be confident around you

-Even if she’s unsure

-And this translates to her physical appearance

-So when she undresses in front of you for the first time, she tries to act like she doesn’t care

-But you (hopefully) catch on, and assure her you love her no matter what (I mean she looks amazing anyway so-)

-Then she’ll be better prepared for the activities of that night

Maki Harukawa:

-Due to her training as an assassin, she has many scars and marks all over her body

-Her clothes hide most of these, to her relief

-But she knows if you two ever do something more intimate, that you’re going to see them

-She wants to be confident, but she’s still insecure about them (not to mention the bad memories they bring up)

-So when she first undresses in front of you, she’ll be quite apprehensive

-You can (hopefully) read the air, and ease her concerns a bit

-Mainly by talking about how the scars are just proof she was able to overcome something horrible

-Wholesome

-She blushes. A LOT.

-Expect a swift kick to the ribs

-But she’s secretly very happy

Tsumugi Shirogane:

-Shy about it

-Not necessarily insecure, just shy

-Blush? Check

-Avoiding eye contact? Check

-Secretly waiting for you to say something? Check

-...

-I don’t know what else to put here

-She’s p l a i n I’m sorry

Miu Iruma:

-You’d expect her to be pretty confident

-But nope

-She likes to pretend she doesn’t care

-She absolutely does

-Blushing mess

-“S-So? You turned on by this g-g-gorgeous body?”

-She can’t even finish getting undressed herself around you, you’ll have to take off the last few things because she’s so embarassed

-Poor thing

Kirumi Tojo:

-Once you’re in a relationship, she’ll probably oblige if you request she does such a thing

-You need to let her know that even if you want to do that sort of thing, she still has a say, and to not just go along with it as a “request”

-Once you two decide to do that for the first time, she doesn’t give too much thought into it

-She’s fairly confident in her body

-Fairly

-Some praise never hurt to make her more comfortable around you

Tenko Chabashira:

-“PERVERT!! Degenerate male pervert!”

-Agrees anyway

-You decide not to point out her hipocrisy

-Doesn’t get really get flustered, but will absolutely break your neck if you stare for .01 seconds too long

-Being a male in a relationship with Tenko is pretty tiring

Himiko Yumeno:

-Like Hiyoko, Himiko is very insecure about her body (mainly her flat chest)

-You’ll assure her as best as you can (witbout sounding like a pedophile) that you love her anyway

-That earns a small blush and smile from the mage

Angie Yonaga:

-I mean, she practically walks around half naked anyway

-So it’s not like she’s showing more skin than usual when she agrees to take your relationship to the next level

-I mean, after all, she doesn’t really showany emotions other than her confident, bubbly self

-It’s kinda strange if you think about it

-But she’s happy in her body, and that’s all that’s important

Hey anon, sorry if these lose quality as it goes on... I was in a bit of a rush to finish this one, since I have other requests... but I tried my best!

[haljathefangirlcat]

Okay, pls tell me about this: "heartfic au"

As you MAY have already guessed ;) it’s a fic inspired by @janiedean’s beautiful ASOIAF heartfics. 

For those unaware: one day, an anon suggested Janie write an ASOIAF fanfic set in an AU where, after suffering too much pain and trauma, people’s hearts (represented by glowing spheres of light) may crack and bleed and, eventually, spontaneously disappear from their owners’ chest to reappear wherever their soulmate is. Said soulmate then takes care of the heart, trying to heal its wounds and/or stop its bleeding, until they’re finally able to give it back. And then, ofc, romance and (more) hurt/comfort ensue. I think the initial prompt was JB, because iirc that’s what the first heartfic was? But Janie also wrote similar fics about other ships, like Davos and his wife getting Stannis’ heart or Sansa getting Sandor’s.

Janie has said on a couple of occasion that she’s fine with other people using the same concept, since it was that anon who came up with it. I decided to write Arthurian fic about it because the whole idea was just screaming GALAHAD/MORDRED!!!! over and over at me. 

Basic plot is “kid!Galahad gets a cracked, bleeding heart and figures it’s that of a damsel in distress he will have to save one day because ofc, he’s Miracle Boy and everything, but oh no, all the ballads say brave noble knights marry the damsels in distress whose hearts they heal, and he has to stay Pure to find the Grail!! ... but hey, maybe they can be just friends?? Then he grows up, goes to Camelot, starts this weird friendship (?) with Mordred as the two Local Subtly (Or Not So Subtly) Ostracized Awkward Prophesized Bastards Of Very Important People, and realizes it was never about a damsel at all. Cue DRAMA on both sides (”WAIT HOW DOES IT WORK DOES THIS MAKE IT BETTER OR WORSE I MEAN CAN WE HAVE LIKE A PLATONIC VIRILE FRIENDSHIP OR DO WE HAVE TO --” “OH GREAT I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH EVEN FOR MY GD SOULMATE NOW” and a bunch of other stuff) until Galahad leaves on the Grail Quest and experiences a lot of horrible shit until his own heart goes to Mordred to protect itself, proving they truly ARE meant to be together and prompting Galahad to refuse the Grail and ascending to Heaven (after a lot more internal turmoil, probably) so he can come back to him.”

Here’s a peek from a scene I’m particularly proud of:

As it turns out, he wasn’t lying.

Mordred can’t deny it as he stares at the thing Galahad took out of the chest under his bed, the thing that was in the leather pouch, the thing wrapped in wool like it was fragile and precious. The thing in Galahad’s hands, held gently, shivering like a branch in the wind, glowing like live coals, pulsating – no, not pulsating, beating.

The void in his chest longs for it, aches for it, covets it. No. No, it’s more than that. It’s not just desire but a need, a hunger. It makes him helpless before it, pulls him towards it like a riptide, and it’s all he can do to struggle against it and resist it, holding his arms rigid by his sides and not moving an inch from his position.

«It’s yours,» Galahad say, uselessly, and he opens and closes his mouth and lowers his gaze like he doesn’t know what else to say.

«Yes. It’s mine,» Mordred replies, just as uselessly. Then, after a moment, he adds: «Those are even my colors.» More because he’s just noticed than for any other reason. His bewildered tone probably makes his words sound even more foolish. But he won’t blame himself for that too much, not right now, because the first thing he noticed was the redness – the blood. The splotches of blood and the many, ragged scars. Hard to notice anything else, after seeing that.

His heart is an ugly thing. That’s not surprising, at all, but he chokes back bitter laughter all the same. 

Galahad’s head whips back up at the sound, and he looks startled and a bit confused. «Uh. Ah, yes, that’s true. I hadn’t thought… or, mh, noticed…» He stops, frowning.

Right then, a thought strikes him like a slap across the face, part hope and part dread and entirely stupid. «Gaheris has silver and purple in his arms, too.» Mordred hesitates and bites his lip, feeling inexplicably like a child about to confide some secret that’s at once all too important and too silly to be exposed, and then continues: «Not only that, but the silver reminds me of Orkney’s sea in winter… and that purple, of a flower that blooms sometimes on the heaths near the sea. My brothers and I all used to play on the coast as boys. They already did it long before I was even born.» Another pause. «As for the flower, I think we all picked it for our mother at least once.» And now, its color is dirtied and muddled by bloodstains.

Galahad shakes his head. «I’ve never thought too much about what the colors might mean. But I’ve also never felt like it could belong to any of your brothers.» There’s a light flush on his cheeks, now, a thin note of something that’s almost stubbornness in his voice. Mordred is aware that he could use that to tease him.

He doesn’t feel like teasing him. «Still… how can you be so certain?»

Galahad blinks and then stares him right in the eye, and suddenly his chest is tight, full of something that itches and stings and prickles under the other man’s calm, blue gaze. «Aren’t you? Don’t you feel it’s your heart?»

He does. He does, and that’s just the problem. The itch grows more intense, more unbearable with every moment he keeps his mouth shut to avoid answering. He drops his gaze to the thing that’s still in Galahad’s hands, the thing that’s calling to him and only him and seems to be beating faster and brighter the more he looks at it and does nothing else, almost like it’s yelling at him in its own way for making it wait so long.

«What if I don’t want it,» he says, and his voice sounds rough and weak to his own ears.

«Why wouldn’t you want it?» Galahad asks that like he honestly can’t think of any reason why, like this is the first time anyone in the whole world has ever said anything like what Mordred, not-so-secret bastard prince and prophesized kingslayer and kinslayer of Camelot, has just said. Maybe it is. He’s pretty sure he’s never heard any songs about any beleaguered damsel who simply told the dashing hero at the foot of her dreary tower, oh no, my good sir, you may keep it, I was fine without it and I will not need it anytime soon.

But Mordred is not a vulnerable maiden or locked up against his will and at the mercy of a cruel brother or uncle or eagerly waiting to be rescued since he was half his current height, so he steels himself and tries again: «What if I’m just fine the way I am now? What if I don’t need it, after all? I’ve spent years not feeling anything, I’m used to it.»

He looks up in time to catch the flash of naked hurt that crosses Galahad’s fine features, briefly replacing startled incredulity before it turns into barely concealed worry. «Are you sure?» Then, he seems to really think about it… and the fingers of his right hand start stroking the thing, lightly and unthinkingly. «I… I can imagine something has happened that you may not want to remember. Maybe you’ve felt things you don’t want to feel again. But is this really better? Would you really keep living like this?»

The spark of anger mixed with spite that flares up in his gut – at Galahad’s questioning and his assumptions that he can imagine and that he knows what living like this is like, those soft caresses that feel so impossibly familiar and intimate when at most they should be irritating or even disturbing in their presumptuousness, the way he feels himself ache for entirely new reasons – tempts him to say that yes, he would, and yes, this is better. It has to be. Has to be better than this ridiculous, confusing, terrible mess that Galahad’s dragged him into. Had he never come to Camelot, or least, had he never come to him with truths that sounded like bad jokes and his honest, open gaze and their stupidly engaging arguments and the quiet evenings spent together hiding away from everyone else and…

«Aren’t there things you’d like to feel? For your family, or your friends, or…»

Mordred sighs. There were lots of things, back when he had first given up his heart and spent his every waking moment wishing to get it back somehow. That was years ago, though, and after some time had passed and he had finally figured out that wishing never helped with anything, all of them had started to seem less desirable, less important… just, less. They didn’t matter anymore, and so he didn’t want them then and doesn’t want them now. And yet… it seems foolish to even think about it, like he’s slipping back into stale old fantasies and half-forgotten, senseless hopes, but… maybe there are a couple of new things, now.

He sighs again, this time trying for a slightly exasperated but mostly careless tone, and holds his hands out in front of him as soon as he’s sure they’ve stopped shaking. He swallows and says: «Alright, I think I’ll give it a try. But know that I might just throw it out again and then you’ll be stuck with it.» He tells himself that he’s not afraid. He is, of course, but he’s such a convincing liar, he knows he can convince himself. It can’t be too hard, right?

Galahad grimaces, and that’s not too encouraging, even if he’s quick to school his features before he slowly, almost gingerly reaches his hands out to him, too. Mordred has half a mind to snap at him and say, look, I was only jesting, I’m not saying you’ll really have to keep it or that I’d care if you left it on the wayside or threw it into a well, but then he worries that the bile might blend with actual pity and so he says nothing except for: «How am I supposed to do this, then?» The songs, of course, skip the boring technical details.

Galahad fits the glowing sphere between his palms like he’s putting a newborn into the cradle, touches his fingers to make them curl over it as if he’s afraid he’ll drop it. The sphere is light as a breath, yet somehow solid, and warm like a living thing… which it truly is, all things considered, although that thought still feels a little absurd. Galahad’s skin is warm, too. «I’m not sure,» Galahad admits. «I’ve… never done this before.»

«Yeah, well, neither have I.»

[artemishphm]

ARTEMIS LUNA GREY

IDENTITY

Name: Artemis Luna Grey

Nicknames: Temis, Art, Artie, Mis, Moonie, Pip, Honey, Lunetta

Gender: Female

Age: 11 - 17 (in-game, 1984-1991); 47 (present day 2020)

Birth Date: 31st August 1973

Species: Human

Blood Status: Half-blood

Sexuality: Bisexual

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Ethnicity: Caucasian/White

Nationality: Half Italian, Half British

Residence: London, England

Myer Briggs Personality Type: ENFJ-A

THE MAGE

1st Wand: Acacia, Unicorn Hair, 12 inches, pliable

Garrick Ollivander found that wands made from Acacia were difficult to match with a wizard. Acacia wands generally refused to produce magic for anyone but their owners, but conversely, seemed to withhold their full power from all but the most gifted wizards.Owners of Acacia wands were generally subtle wizards, as wands made from this wood were generally unsuitable for what Ollivander termed "bangs-and-smells magic".             

Wands with unicorn hair cores produced the most consistent magic, were least subject to fluctuations and blockages, were most difficult to turn to the Dark Arts, and were the most faithful of wands. However, they do not make the most powerful of wands (unless the wand wood compensates) and are prone to melancholy if mishandled.

2nd Wand: Laurel, Phoenix feather, 12 inches

A laurel wand cannot perform a dishonourable act, although in the quest for glory (a not uncommon goal for those best suited to these wands), laurel wands have been known to perform powerful and sometimes lethal magic. Laurel wands are sometimes called fickle, but this is unfair; the laurel wand is unable to tolerate laziness in a possessor, and it is in such conditions that it is most easily and willingly won away. Otherwise, it will cleave happily to its first match forever, and indeed has the unusual and engaging attribute of issuing a spontaneous lightning strike if another witch or wizard attempts to steal it.

The Phoenix feather his is one of the rarest core types. Phoenix feathers are capable of the greatest range of magic, though they may take longer than either unicorn hair or dragon heartstring cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike.Phoenix feather wands are always the pickiest when it comes to potential owners, for the creature from which they are taken is one of the most independent and detached in the world. These wands are the hardest to tame and to personalise, and their allegiance is usually hard won.

Animagus: American Staffordshire Terrier

(Real footage of Barnaby playing with Artemis, Rowan rec)

Misc Magical Abilities: 

Parselmouth

Just like her brother Jacob, Artemis is a Parselmouth. She realized she was one when learning about Vipera Evanesca in her fifth year, a snake told her all about his life and she talked with him about her friends.

Seer

Artemis can see the future with her inner eye. She rembers giving prophecies since she was born and how she cried when she couldn’t see her brother’s future anymore, she can’t also see her own future. Artemis hates having prophecies at the most random times (example: when Barnaby was about to kiss her for the first time).

Animagus

Artemis can switch to a dog. She learned to do it with Talbott, even though they aren’t really close. She is not registered in the ministry.

Legilimency

Artemis was born with the ability to read other people’s minds.

Wandless and nonverbal magic

Artemis learned to cast nonverbal and windless magic with Rowan during their second year while they got bored during one of their sleepovers.

Boggart Form: Rowan’s dead body waking up and telling Artemis that it was her fault that she was dead.

Riddikulus Form: Rowan laughing with the fun that she bought with with Artemis 

Amortentia: (What do they smell like?) Rain, Cookies, Vanilla and Fire

Amortentia: (What do they smell?) Snow, Shepherd’s pie, Fresh Laundry and a hint of sandalwood

Patronus: Unicorn

Patronus Memory: 

Dancing her heart out at the end of the fourth year with all of her friends in the courtyard thanks to a muggle stereo Jae had managed to smuggle in the castle

Mirror of Erised:

She sees her whole family just being there with her smiling, telling her how much they love her.

Specialized/Favourite Spells:

Flipendo

Episkey

Riddikulus

Depulso

Protego

Colovaria

Arresto Momentum

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: Amanda Arcuri

Game Appearance:

Height: 5′5 (169 cm)

Weight: 110 lbs

Physique: Slim

Eye Colour: Green

Hair Colour:  Natural: brown, but she changes it every two weeks

Skin Tone: Ivory

Body Modifications: 

Her mother pierced her ears when she was born. During her years at Hogwarts she got a lot of other piercings on her ears.

She got a septum when she was 15

She also has a small sun stick & poke on her wrist. She got it with Rowan when they were 13 & bored. Rowan has a moon in the same place.

Scarring: 

She has small scars on her fingers due to failed spells

She also had a scar on her lower belly but she doesn’t remember how she got it.

Inventory: (what do they carry on them?)

Popcorn (”you always have to be ready to watch Merula fail at duels”), her mother’s necklace, candy, eye-liner, one of Barnaby’s rings and a dugbomb (”just in case”)

Fashion:

Converse are a must, she’s always wearing them (even when she shouldn’t). During the weekdays when she is not wearing her uniform you can find her sporting an old hoodie and some sweats around the castle. When she’s outside or on special occasion she has a 90s style,

I’ll link her Pinterest style board here once I do it.

ALLEGIANCES

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Affiliations/Organizations: The Grey family, The circle of Khanna, House of Gryffindor, British Ministry of Magic, Order of the Phoenix

Professions:

Gryffindor prefect (1988-1991)

Auror (1992-present day)

HOGWARTS INFORMATION

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: Outstanding

Charms: Outstanding

DADA: Outstanding

Flying: Exceeds Expectations

Herbology: Outstanding

History of Magic: Outstanding

Potions: Outstanding

Transfiguration: Outstanding

Electives:

Care of Magical Creatures: Outstanding

Divination: Outstanding

Muggle Studies: Acceptable

Quidditch: TBD

Extra Curricular:

-Duelling Club

Favourite Professors:

Minerva McGonagall

Severus Snape

Sybilla Trelawney

Silwanus Kettleburn

Least Favourite Professors:

Patricia Rakepick

RELATIONSHIPS

Brother:

Jacob Apollo Grey

He used to be Artemis’ best friend, but after his disappearance she couldn’t help but think that their bond would never be the same

Father: 

Xavier Grey

Xavier left when Artemis was 3. He never came back.

Mother:

Jennifer Bane

A very cold woman, she never know how to show her love to Artemis. After Jacob left she became verbally abusive towards her daughter.

Love Interest:

Barnaby Lee

Penny Haywood (one-sided love, 1985)

Best Friends:

Rowan Khanna

Jae Kim

Nymphadora Tonks

Tulip Karasu

Penny Haywood

Rival:

Merula Snyde

Ismelda Murk

Andre Egwu (friendly bc of quidditch)

Enemy:

Patricia Rakepick

R

Acromantula

Dormmates: (Who’s in your MC’s dorm with them?)

Rowan Khanna

Skye Parkin

Barnaby Lee (when he doesn’t get caught, sneaked in)

Pets:

Niffler named Plato

Abraxan named Achilles

Fairy named Roger

Closest Canon Friends:

Badeea Ali

Charlie Weasley

Bill Weasley

Liz Tuttle

Skye Parkin

Murphy McNully

Closest MC Friends:

Lizzie Parker ( @lizzieparkerhphm​)

Luna Powell (currently 2nd year, one of my MCs)

If u wanna be friends with Artemis just dm me! I’d love to!

PERSONALITY

Artemis is kind, loyal and funny. She’s a bit bossy sometimes but she always everyone’s best interests at heart. She would literally do anything for her friends. She’s really impulsive and that often puts her in very dangerous situations. She’s also really smart.

MISC

Artemis started dying her hair during her second year, after Tonks pulled prank on her and put dye in her shampoo. She loved so much her green hair that she decided to always change her hair color (Colovaria helped, a lot too)

None’s ever seen Artemis with the same hair color for more that three weeks. Her friends often don’t recognize her from behind when she has a new dye

Artemis and Tulip throw the best parties. They got caught only once.

There’s an unwritten rule at Hogwarts, what happens at their parties stays in their parties.

Artemis loves muggle music, especially Queen and David Bowie.

Even though Snape is always pretty harsh, he’s one of her favorite professors (and deep down he has a soft spot for her).

Rowan and Skye found her during OWLs week at three am crying her heart while singing “love of my life” to a piece of paper where she had written “outstanding OWLs” and a bowl of ice-cream, probably stolen from the kitchen. They never talked about it.

Artemis is in love with the moon. She doesn’t know why, but she’s always felt connected to it. That’s why you can often find her in the astronomy tower just staring at the moon.

She ofter sneaks Barnaby in her room because the feeling of his arms around her helps her ease her nightmares and, when she has her visions, he’s able to calm her down almost instantly.

When Rowan died, he slept with her for two months. None of the professors said nothing.

Thanks to @hogwartsmystory​for the template <3

[wevegottogetaway]

Whirlwind Part II - Bora

DAY 2

Echoes are bouncing within the sturdy walls of the San Diego Marine Corps Air Station's main hangar. Blackshoes are in the middle of pre-flight logistics runs and equipment set-up before the launch of Top Gun program's first training mission. Aircrafts are being carefully escorted outside towards the runway, the sound of their roaring turbines whelming Harry's ears but he doesn't let that disturb his self-reflecting musings. His body is leant on the metallic hinges of the warehouse's entrance as his absentminded gaze doesn't shift from the take-off runway.

He is about an hour early but the upcoming events of the day have had him on edge since he reluctantly draped the cool bedsheets off his body that morning. How could he possibly get a wink of sleep knowing he was, at last, going back amongst the clouds for the first time since the accident? For the first time without his best friend. For the first time without is partner by his side (or rather behind him) watching out for hidden threats and targets in line. Jonathan had always had his back but from this day forward Harry would have to rely on Aella to keep them both safe.

He doesn't know what to make of that, what to make of her. There is no questioning her skills and capability, one could never join this program without those...but two highly proficient flyers don't necessarily equal one flawless unit. Especially since they know so little of each other. Be that as it may, the fellowship that binds two pilots flying the same aircraft is indispensable to their success and in those life-of-deaths seconds, when it feels like the sky is closing in on them and the next move can make or break them, it all comes down to one thing: the entrustment between him and her.

And he wants to. Wants to take his trust out from the jetted pocket of his uniform, lay it on the palm of her hand and enclose her fingers around it to keep secure. But it doesn't work like that, does it? Trust is not so much a choice as it is a spontaneous feeling immune to rational thinking. And for a reason he doesn't want to mull over too much, Harry can't help but feel wary of her in a way. He's seen her fire; the night before last when she made a fool out of their most redoubtable opponent. Recognized the same flame that used to inhabit his best friend's eyes and make him the warmest being Harry ever got to be around. It doesn't sway him as much as it scares him. Fierceness is a good trait in the Navy world, but too much of it can be deceitful. Harry experienced it first-hand.

He doesn't dwell on it too much for now though, and makes his way to the back of the warehouse where his "classmates" have started to huddle while waiting for the superiors. Most of the promotion is there, the usual inner-groups appearing clearly to Harry as his eyes takes in the scene: herdsman Rex and his sheeps on one side while the other crews enjoy one last round of banter before their sternness is summoned for the first mission of the program.

Harry takes note of Aella's absence just as someone calls out to him. "Styles!" It's his callsign tumbling out of Dean Marshall's mouth. Harry used to have another, but the only person who was allowed to make use of that one special letter, is no longer able to claim it.

Dean and his partner Emmet Iggersman - or as they are commonly addressed to on base, Dazzler and Tigger - complete the other half of Harry and Aella's team. The four of them fly in tandem to form a section and hopefully fulfill the missions' objectives before the others do. Harry has flown many a time with these two guys and he's glad he'll be able to count on them as well should his new pairing go south.

"Hey Daz, how's it goin' ?" his greeting is followed by a good-natured handshake.

"S' goin' awesome, thanks for asking! My boy just started walking like a penguin on steroids right before I left. I swear the little champ is takin' the helm to keep his mum on her toes while his father's gone!" The proud smirk teasing Dazzler's lips triggers a contagious chuckle from his peers as they all take in the sheer bliss coloring the new-dad's face.

"That's grand man! Send my prayers to Catherine, sounds like she might need it, yeah?"

"Will do Styles, but enough 'bout me, how are you holdin' up? I can't deal fo' you man, what with Fox gone and this new partner thing..." There's a painful tug at Harry's chest at the utterance of Jonathan's callsign, the nickname born from his tangerine-like hair though Harry always believed it was more reference to his best-friend incredibly cunning mind. He ignores it in favor of a more tempered and diplomatic answer than what his heart was crying out.

"It'll be an adjustment fo' sure, yeah. But overall I'm just glad to be back in the game"

"As we all are Styl-" Tigger has just placed a comforting hand on Harry's broad shoulder when he is interrupted by none other than Rex's disdainful voice.

"Hey girls! How's the BFFs reunion going?"

Dazzler doesn't hesitate before stepping forward and firing back "Just about a punch away from properly kickin'off. Why? are you offerin'?"

"Wooo I'm shaking" Rex replies with a fake tremor. Then he seems to spot something - or rather someone - coming up behind Harry and Tigger. It's Aella, head kept down as to not attract any attention. She's seen the despicable man interacting with her new crew so she tries to reach the makeshift classroom (mostly just chairs aligned in a couple of rows in the middle of a hangar) as inconspicuously as possible. The déjà-vu impression is not lost on her.

"There she is!" Aella tilts her head up, knowing she's busted. "Miss James Bond Girl in the flesh! C'mere sweetheart, come show these suckers who wears the pants in this team!" The disdain within her levels up a notch (as if possible) but Aella doesn't know what she hates the most about this nonsense. The fact he is ridiculing her once again or the fact he acts like none of the after James-Bond-Girl-debacle two nights ago ever happened. As if she didn't put him in his place like the badass she is.

Or maybe it's the affectionate pet-name coming out of his repugnant lips and directed to her... Anyway, she doesn't have the time to prepare a comeback before a second round is launched, this time at her new partner.

"Better watch it Styles! Next thing you know you'll be the one in the freakin' kitchen..."

"Cut it out, Rex-" Harry starts defending his team but a stern and humorless voice overpowers his.

"I don't reckon anyone asked for your moronic opinions. So please pack your ignorant bullshit away and leave us the fuck alone" She keeps her countenance as she tells him off but Rex is not budging an inch and neither is the insolent smirk hung on his face.

"Damn Harry, quite the mouthy one you have here. Sure you can handle her?"

"For Christ's sake, please shut the hell up and go back where you came from Rex or by God I swear I won't hesitate to have you weep on the floor for your momma like a baby, again."

"Again?" Dazzler perks up with a smiling frown just as Rex's smugness fades away to be replaced by unadulterated contempt.

"You're delusional if you think I can be scared of you Lonethorne" he spats out while backing away, head up mighty high. "Stupid cunts" he adds under his breath as he turns around to rejoin his buddies.

Aella knows she's worked herself up but she can't help but call out to him one more time. "Oh and Rex?... How's the hand doing?" He doesn't give her the curtesy of a respond but Aella is satisfied with the flare of his nose and the twitch in his eye.

Meanwhile the three men still at her sides are left speechless, Dazzler and Tigger still processing the heated exchange while Harry seems lost in his own thoughts.

She'd done it again. Let the fire out and turned Rex's crudeness into ashes before they could scar her skin. There was no attempt of taming the beast before she went in guns blazing. That didn't help assuage his worries one bit. She's too impulsive is playing in his head over and over like a broken record. Because while Harry agrees Rex is the worst kinds of knobheads, he's always believed responding to antagonization was pointless. Better to look the other way and let the jerk waste his energy on petty words that will never reach aim. And because all in all, there are dogfighters, but that endeavor is reserved in the air, not on land.

"My my, darling. You just pimped the shit out of the least pimpable man on base. I think I'm in awe." Dazzler says after regaining his senses.

"Please don't call me darling" Aella retorts softly as she knows he doesn't mean it in any condescending way.

"Sorry. Aella, is it?"

"Yeah, that's me. And you are...?"

"Dazzler, so very nice to meet you" he smiles widely accepting her handshake offer. "And just a heads-up dear Aella. After you tell me all about weeping Rex, you and I are gonna be besties, I can feel it" She chuckles lightly as his enthusiasm and decides she'll not only welcome his affection but also return it. Before she can reciprocate the sentiment however, the room falls suddenly quiet and a second later the reason, or rather 4 reasons, come into her view: Commander Berks, Lieutenant Rogers and two other officers that have yet to be introduced.

"Morning everyone, I can tell some of you over-indulged in Induction Rave. If you could put the same amount of devotion you put at getting faced into your training, I would be eternally grateful." Berks earns himself a full house of laughters, before compelling the room back to sobriety. "Time to be serious now. ACM training was not invented to entertain you and make you look pretty up there. As an era where the potential of confrontation is constantly rising, air combat excellence is now more than ever a vital technique to the protection of our country. And don't you forget that: you are above all defenders of the nation. Not heroes, not athletes. I say again: protectors. Best be at you sharpest then." The Commander pauses after his inspiring tirade.

"Now, let's talk about this first assignment. Just plain good old-fashioned dogfighting to give you guys a foretaste of what's coming. Today it's gonna be 4 units at a time against 4 of ours. Your goal is to target any one of the instructors' units while trying not to be shot yourself. I'll say it now, we won't go easy on you. This exercise is meant as an assessment of your current skills, so don't get too cocky up there, just do your ex-Commanders honor. First one to reach its target or last one to be shot wins the mission. Remember, there is no points for second place in this program." He pauses and starts grinning. "Show me what you got."

With that Aella tries a small glance in Harry's direction but his eyes are fixed towards the horizon with a permanent frown shrouding their luminescence. She sighs.

Fully equipped of her G-suit, helmet and headset, Aella is making the last adjustments on her seat at the back of the cockpit. She's not unfamiliar with the radar intercept officer position though she's usually the one at the commands. She's also used to flying alone.

The panel in front of her intimidatingly takes up all her front view with a couple of screens and numerous switches and tuners. Her perspective is limited to a peripheral vision on both sides of the cockpit but she wouldn't be relying on a full panorama to spot target and threats anyway. No her job is to accurately keep tract of all flying elements within the largest range and most anticipated time possible. There's no point in crying out for enemy presence when they're already at your six and firing away... Along with relaying their position to Harry, Aella can also suggest tactical maneuvers based on the predictions she draws from the opponents' moves.

Speaking of Harry, they haven't exchanged a word since their brief introduction two days ago. Now they're both tightly harnessed to their seat about to navigate a near-thirty-tons engine beyond the speed of sound. Aella's never been a religious one but as the technician gives her one last thumb up to signal their operational status, she's praying to all deities that the awkwardness between them on land is nothing but the result of a subliminal force destined to counterbalance their incredible chemistry in the air.

The canopy of the cockpit locks them into silence before Harry speaks up. "All good?" The mediocre quality of the microphone's transducer makes his voice even raspier than usual through the headset tucked over Aella's ears.

"Yeah all good. You?"

"Same."

She thinks their conversation is over but then she hears a hushed voice. "Let's kick the tires and light the fires." She figures it was more so for his own benefit though, so she doesn't comment.

All too soon they're propelled forward, backs pinned to their seats because of the tremendous speed pressure. It can be a small-scale body trauma for some but Aella has never felt more comfortable. A tingle of the fingertips later, they are welcomed in an infinite azure dotted by a few scarce clouds, the runway long gone behind them. Both pilots enjoy a couple peaceful seconds to take in their new panorama and then they snap: it begins.

"I've got a six strobe. I think he's locked on us." Aella starts reading out the incoming movements entering her radar scope.

With a switch on his radio transmitter, Harry reaches out to Dazzler and Tigger as they are flying in a parallel tandem alongside them. "Tigger, you spot it?"

"Positive. It's Rogers, looks like he's a single." Tigger who endorses the same role as Aella quickly reports, before she pitches back in for a few more precisions.

"Contact at 900 knots closure. He's gaining speed."

"Daz, it's split time." Harry announces.

"Copy that Styles."

After Dazzler's approval, the two aircrafts are both sharply veering outwards in a defensive split, leaving a Y-shaped trail of smoke after them. The move comes through as the chaser is contrived to choose one direction to follow, but to Harry's dismay they get the short end of the stick.

"Rogers coming left, eight o'clock high." Aella signals immediately.

The scenery below them is a mix of wild purples and pale magentas, with fields-worth of lavender adorning the dry soil so characteristic of Californian lands. Peace and nature prevail on these grounds slightly remote from the bustling life of the city but the same cannot be said ten-thousand feet above where Harry is caught in a tedious game of zig-zag trying to escape his pursuer.

"He's tailing us. Watch your six!" her pulse quickens every time Rogers' unit manages to lock its position right behind them. There is no more vulnerable position for a pilot than to have an enemy flying at their six. It usually means incoming fire. It's why Harry is relentlessly jerking the TomCat in a rapid and unpredictable manner, the constant change in direction making it near-impossible for Rogers to lock, aim and shoot them.

"No shit Sherlock, why d'you think I'm jinxing so much?" Harry is starting to see spots on his peripheral vision from the gravitational pull, and he can only hope his tailgater is experiencing the same. Beads of sweat dotting his hairline and starting to dribble along his temples but it doesn't put a damper on his concentration. He can't relent or he becomes an exposed target.

"Goddamn, he's not budgin.'" Harry tries with all his might to leave his frustration out of the cockpit but the situation is not looking up.

"You got new contact ahead, 2 o'clock." Aella perks up at the discovery.

"Imma bit preoccupied with Rogers up my ass, if you haven't noticed." She should have known pointing out a potential target while they were heavily pursued themselves was not what Harry wanted to hear, but she already had a plan all mapped out. That's what Aella is best at after-all: reading a situation and coming up with a strategy in .2 second flat, no reflexion needed, just the numbers, the physics and the sky on her side.

"I didn't mean it as a target. You can use them as a shield if you keep Rogers high enough right before making a dive under them." She explains her vision to him, desperately wishing she could be the one on the front executing it.

"He'll just go above and back to tailgating us."

"Not if you barrel-roll right after the contact, he'll just overshoot." His lack of response betrays his skepticism so she insists further, brushing off the way he's second-guessing her.

"At the least, it'll give you leeway and buy you some time." This time her argument weights enough to tip his scale in favor of her plan.

"'lright then." Harry reluctantly agrees, tilting his chin slightly to the side as if he couldn't believe himself he was going through with her move. "'s gonna be snug timing."

"Just trust my cue." Aella's words are left hanging between them like a desperate echo thrown in an empty ravine. Does he trust her? Does she? It's definitely not the moment to reflect on it, much less have a discussion about it, but neither of them are oblivious to the eerie silence filling up their space like a faux smile greeting a bad joke. Then the aircraft is once again yanked to a blunt left and Aella is snapped out of it.

"That's it. Target at 1 mile abeam 40° on your right." She's got the fellow fighter in her line of view, both on the radar and through the bulletproof glass of the cockpit's canopy. "Keep high, keep high...3, 2, 1, drop!" Harry immediately complies, the aircraft nearly skimming the underbelly of its twin above, before shooting right back upwards, nose pointing at the sun. The trajectory describes a half loop leaving them upside-down for a milli second before Harry rolls them back to normal, in the end effectively realizing a vertical U-turn. Rogers skillfully avoids a fetal collision with the third wheeler but doesn't anticipate Harry's sudden volte-face, in accordance with Aella's prognosis.

"Fuck, we're losin' airspeed." Because of such a twist of direction, they are indeed relegated to a lesser speed which Harry is not too enchanted about.

"He's losing some too." Aella reasons, before jumping to another matter. "2 incoming bogies ahead. I think it's Berks tailing Dazzler." She's barely finished her sentence that two familiar aircrafts flash passed them at such high speed, Harry has to crane his neck backwards to watch his friends in the same predicament he was mere seconds ago.

"I have to cover them." His instinct takes over.

"Fly your needles Harry, it's too late for them." Aella objects to it straight away. Her mind is unbiased, she knows going for them would be pointless.

"Like hell I'm gonna sit tight, they need cover." Harry's voice is categoric like he couldn't ever fathom a world where he would leave his friends stranded for the sake of a mission.

"They already lost, Berks' gonna turn for us now."

"You don't know that." He replies adamantly despite her warning.

"Except I do. Daz was loosing speed, it's over for them." Now she's the one trying to stifle her frustration with all her might. She just wishes he would listen, but instead they're doing yet another 180 to follow Dazzler's trail to the rescue. She has no choice but to adapt and keep calling the positions.

"Contact ahead, four hundred, coming down. He's gonna turn."

"Not if I nail 'im first." If she weren't so bitter about being ignored, she might find his determination admirable. Admittedly she can't deny Harry is an amazing pilot, as are proof his excellent accuracy in space and timing as well as the ease with which he performs each maneuver. But alas, the git won't take her words for it, no matter how knowledgable she is. Talk about eyes rolling...

Meanwhile, Harry is desperately trying to aim for the TomCat launched in his direction, but his opponent is using the same tricks he used against Rogers.

"Shit, 's not stable enough to fire." Aella can't believe he has to audacity to groan about it to her. DIdn't she warn him?

Any shot is missed as the two aircrafts cross trajectories, nearly grazing each other

"Don't lag, he's gonna come around high at your five." Instead of commenting on his failed attempt, she communicates her best educated guess.

"How'dya figure?"

"Cause he was lagging too." Her retorts are getting sharper and drier as her annoyance grows the more he questions her. Her eyes take a rest from the screens on her panel to lay on the Californian landscape flowing passed them. They've wandered quite the distance away from the base, the relatively greener scenery of the seafront giving way to a craggy turf redder and drier by the meter.

"Fuck." Harry suddenly swears, the quality of his voice could rival the roughness of the ground Aella was just observing, and she's effectively brought back into focus.

"Damn it, I told you!" She indulges with an expletive of her own once she spots the fast-approaching signal of Berks unit on her AMDR (Air and Missile Defense Radar).

"The fucker got in my blind spot, I'm doin' my best." Harry is quick to defend himself but the damage is done: they're being chased down once again.

Aella thinks she's starting to reach her disgruntlement threshold. The fact Harry isn't much receptive to her ideas doesn't alleviate her growing frustration at her lack of control over the damn carrier. "Well step up before we get wiped." She spits.

"I swear to God Aella, now's really not the time"

"If you just listened to me for- Watch out! At your six, closing fast!" She desperately wants to tell him off. Wishes she could go on a rant about how much of a dismissing jerk is being, but her duties reins her in when a loud signal starts beeping frantically on her board. Berks is locked at their six, a press of a finger away from shooting them.

"I hear that" Harry grunts as he gives a sharp jerk at the control stick in order to dodge Berks' line of fire. He keeps jinxing the aircraft in all axis but Berks follows suit and matches all his moves.

"He's too fast, I can't get out of his fire range." Harry's heartbeat skyrockets as the situation becomes more dire by the second. He doesn't know how long he can maintain the zig-zagging going, for the sake of both his energy and the carrier's. Abrupt moves are what's currently keeping them safe but these are sadly the greediest in kerosene.

Then all hell breaks loose when Aella is hit by one of her craziest ideas.

"Try a complete thrust reversal of the turbofan engines."

"' the fuck?! Are you nuts?! It'll send us spiraling." Harry's livid. He knew it. He fucking knew she was impulsive and reckless on the edges. She held to much fire in her hands for him to put his trust in them like he wanted to.

"Precisely." His harsh reaction doesn't deter her confidence. "If you're out of control, he can't anticipate your moves, can he?"

"Are you even listening to yourself? That's a stupid idea if I ever heard one."

"It's not. You just have to switch back off the burners for a sec and you'll get the control back."

"And what if I don't?" She knows her calculations are foolproof but Harry won't have any of it. He can't think past the boldness and near-arrogance of it all.

"You will, just trust me." Once again, the words leave a bitter taste in her mouth, even more so because she knows he won't likely follow through with it.

"That's suicide mission Aella. I'm not doing it, that's final." The last two words are categorical, a way for him to officially close the conversation.

"Damn it!"

The theory of it was beautiful really, but Harry thinks in practical and surefire moves he knows won't send him six feet under before his time. Aella, on the other hand, has always relied on her infallible knowledge of astrophysics to enhance her flying experience. She's followed the same motto ever since she stumbled across a quote that inspired her beyond grasp. It goes something like "aviation records don't fall until someone is willing to mortgage the present for the future." And while she would never even entertain the idea of a reckless and immature move, her self-taught philosophy gave her access to a whole world of potential tricks most pilot couldn't even conceptualize.

Aella is in the middle of an attempt at regulating her breathing when she starts noticing the spinning arrow on her altimeter. Her head swiftly tilts to the side to get a brief snapshot of the crimson soil of San Diego's wasteland. They must be pretty far in the land if the upcoming sierra of rocky mounts is anything to go by. That's not what is retaining Aella's attention. No, she's more puzzled by the lack of space between her and the ground, the carrier grazing over pebbly elevations and lorn cactuses.

"Flathatting? That's your idea? Christ Harry, the trees won't save your ass." She figures if he doesn't bother being civil then she should drop her filter too.

"Leave it Aella. Just do your job."

"I'm trying!" She fires back.

"Just trust me on this."

Blank.

"Fuck you Harry, that's a two-way street." She's actually fuming. He had the balls to call her out on trust when he hasn't been returning the same courtesy. If she had the time to worry further about it now, Aella would be questioning if coming to Top Gun and partnering with Harry was really a life-changing opportunity. So far, she's had very few upgrades from the grim world she's been privy too.

"There's a split trail 3 miles ahead on the left." She was under the impression they'd stop talking in tacit consent but the rasp of Harry's voice through her headphones is no mirage. "I can lose him there. Can you read the positions please?"

She's tempted to give him the silent treatment but the fervid pilot in her wouldn't let her jeopardize a mission on such petty grounds. At least he was polite about his request this time. "He's closing on 300, nose up. Going by 800 knots."

"Roger that" Probably the closest thing to a thank you she'll get from him.

They're currently speeding through a gorge, tall cliffs of maroon stone fencing them on either side. Aella starts to question Harry's move as it restrains their room for maneuver but then he makes an extremely obtuse left turn and she gets it. The intimidating mount on their left actually split into two narrow canyons. At the speed they were going, one is most likely to take the second channel whose angle isn't as sharp as the one Harry chose. Only someone with previous knowledge of the surroundings would know how to successfully make that turn. It's then Aella realizes Harry has more insight on the environs than he lets on. His trick proves to be conclusive as Berks falls into the trap and enters the other passage.

"He's out."Aella simply confirms, before Harry veers upwards and back towards the base.

"Hunky-Dory." He utters in the same whispered manner he used before their take-off. "Now let's bug the fuck outta here."

The moment she has her two feet on the tarmac, Aella is scurrying over to a furious-looking Harry. Nostrils flaring, daggers in the eyes, they're both squaring their shoulders once nose to nose, or rather nose to collarbone. She doesn't give him the time to even part his lips before she's jabbing her pointer finger at his taunt chest.

"You prick! I got better things to do than to fill some empty space at the back of your stupid plane. If you don't want my insight you can shove it where the sun doesn't shine."

"Insight? You call that insight?!" He starts laughing jeeringly. "'s fuckin' madness is what it was. I can't believe I passed the mission with someone like you!" Harry doesn't even care to temper his disdain anymore. He's seen enough to make up his mind about her. He doesn't like her. Doesn't want to find out about the person inside because he doesn't like the pilot that she is. It reminds him to much of futile losses and irreparable hurt.

"Someone like me?" Aella's face turns sour and if it didn't make her look so sentimental, her eyes would be hosting a few pearls. She really thought he wasn't like those sexist jerks back home. Maybe not the warmest but at least respectful of her talent enough to appreciate her place in the Navy. Now she hates herself for entertaining the fantasy of ever having an ally flying by her side. "You're an asshole Harry, and certainly no better than Rex." Then before he can reply she storms off, too angered not to lose her wits.

And really, her last words don't sit well with Harry, because he knows she's not referring to the jerk's flying skills.