#anyway i love these two and i will not stop spreading this propaganda

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

I wasn't planning on posting this today, but this idea came to me today and I must share it! (I'm still working on my special au to celebrate two big tumblr milestones! Hopefully it'll be done by the end of the week!)

With all of the dehumanizing propaganda labelling magic users as "inhuman monsters" that Uther spread during the purge, people who are attracted to magic users are probably labelled as deviants. In Camelot, saying "yeah I'd bang a wizard" is considered completely taboo. But that doesn't stop people from fantasying about what they can't have.

This, of course, spawns a whole genre of steamy romance manuscripts featuring evil sorcerers kidnapping fair maidens and falling in love with them, powerful wizards seducing innocent princess with their dark magics, dark and broody warlocks tricking naive ladies into becoming their lovers through a devil's bargain, etc. These cheesy romance manuscripts are quite popular with the ladies of Camelot, as they have a forbidden aspect to them in both the owning of such stories and the material of the stories themselves. Plus, when you're a noblewoman trapped in a loveless political marriage, the fantasy of a dark and powerful magic user becoming enamored with them and stealing them away is quite the appealing fantasy.

To many people in Camelot, magic users become the ultimate forbidden romance fantasy, being (in their imaginations) secretive and powerful creatures who can use their magic to exert their will and their dark desires on their innocent victims.

The few people in Camelot who have actually slept with magic users don't help these rumors either, as they only add fuel to the fire. Gwaine certainly has plenty of stories to share about how much fun sorcerers and witches can be in bed with their magic, and the people in the tavern listen with rapt attention and furious blushing when he tells those stories.

But when tales of Emrys, the last dragonlord and the most powerful sorcerer to ever live, travel from the druids to Camelot? The wizard-fuckers in Camelot went wild.

Within a couple weeks, there were dozens of steamy (and VERY imaginative) romance novels and manuscripts written and passed around Camelot, all revolving around the mysterious and brooding warlock Emrys.

As people's dirty imaginations ran wild with what Emrys might be like, the general perception of Emrys became more and more ridiculous. According to some of these stories, Emrys was a seven foot tall brooding warlock whose magic made him irresistible, forcing people to succumb to his will.

Pretty much everyone in Camelot gets their hands on one of these manuscripts or hears about them. Gwaine has his own collection of them, which isn't too shocking to anyone, but, to everyone's surprise, Merlin starts collecting some of those stories too (to make sure that no one else gets their hands of such embarrassing material, but people just assume that he has some sort of kink). He even blushes whenever someone mentions them (out of mortification).

Eventually, Arthur finds out about his kingdom's dirty fascination with this Emrys guy because people kept teasing Merlin for his crush on Emrys. Arthur demands to know who Merlin has fallen for (for security reasons, of course, not because he's jealous). It's at that point that Gwen and the knights have to tell Arthur that his entire kingdom (including Merlin apparently) has been thirsting over a hot mysterious sorcerer that no one actually knows anything about.

Arthur almost blows up when he hears this, furious that his entire kingdom has been having dirty fantasies about a dangerous man who's most likely their enemy! And don't even get him started on how Merlin, his Merlin, has the audacity to be more attracted to this Emrys than Arthur himself! This is outrageous!

However, no matter how much Arthur tries to point out to Merlin that being attracted to Emrys is a bad idea and nothing will ever come of it anyways, he still keeps on catching Merlin with those dirty manuscripts about Emrys! (Because Merlin is still trying to secretly get rid of them all).

Eventually, Arthur gets frustrated enough that he'll try anything to get Merlin's attention away from Emrys. He thinks over how he could do that for a while, until one day he overheard two ladies of the court talking about how much they enjoyed it when their partners in bed roleplayed as a powerful magic user like Emrys, and Arthur begrudging came to a solution.

The next day, when Arthur catches Merlin reading a story about Emrys and blushing wildly again, Arthur clears his throat, looks a mortified Merlin dead in the eyes, and asks, "if I took you to bed and pretended to be Emrys while doing so, would that finally get you over your ridiculous attraction to this criminal of a sorcerer?"

Arthur was perhaps a bit too blunt in his delivery, as Merlin promptly started choking on air after Arthur's question in lieu of an answer, much to Arthur's annoyance. You see, as much as it would irritate Arthur to have to pretend to be another man, let alone an enemy sorcerer, in bed, Arthur had a plan.

Arthur obviously needed to rein in Merlin's lust before his servant did anything stupid (like fall into bed with an actual dangerous sorcerer), and what better way to do that than slake Merlin's lust himself? Truly, Arthur was the most generous king there ever was (ignoring his own rampant attraction towards Merlin). And once they were in bed, Arthur would prove to Merlin how great and how proficient a lover he is, and any thoughts of Emrys (or any man who wasn't Arthur for that matter), would be forgotten immediately in the face of how superior Arthur is!

Arthur mentally pats himself on the back for coming up with this genius plan as Merlin's coughing fit finally ends.

"Arthur, why on earth would you even ask that?!"

"Because you're clearly enamored with this sorcerer, so perhaps this will finally get that stupidity out of your system!"

They go back and forth like this for a while, until finally Merlin, to his own shock, agrees to Arthur's proposal. Arthur feels alight with victory for a few minutes, until he realizes that he'll have to learn how to act convincingly like a powerful sorcerer for one night. At that point, Arthur goes out to buy some dark robes for himself to hopefully get more into character, and even "studies" some of those spicy manuscripts to get an idea of what Merlin would be expecting.

Arthur barely managed to finish one of them from how scandalized he was at their contents. Why were these so popular with his subjects?! Still, Arthur soldiered on, reading more and more of the embarrassing romance manuscripts until he finally felt confident in what Merlin was looking for.

Of course, when the time came, Arthur was terrible at roleplaying as a sorcerer, but Merlin didn't mind one bit (most because Merlin was torn between laughing hysterically or being embarrassed beyond belief at at Arthur's poor impersonation of a poor interpretation of Merlin himself, so he decided to instead just enjoy being with Arthur).

And that's all for now! I'm thinking about doing a continuation of this later on, where Camelot (who's been thirsting over Emrys) learns that Merlin had been Emrys all along. Please let me know if you'd like to see that one day!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[bunthebreadboy]

i saw a fanart on pinterest when i decided to change my entire phone theme and i can’t get it out of my head.

the art was just after the zuko and ozai agni kai. zuko was knocked out, iroh was getting ready to take him and leave, and azula just came in and said “i took care of it”. if anyone knows what i’m talking about and has it saved or knows the og artist pls lmk!!

anyways. it got me thinking about an expansion of this au (that i will never write because i have neither the patience nor the time to do that) that (unsurprisingly) results in disasterlesbian!azula

so hear me out on this one. there would need to be an entire plot. like. what’s aang going to do??

azula killed ozai by electrocuting him. it’s the first time she discovers her lightning bending. it looks like he had a heart attack in his sleep. (don’t get too wrapped up in the details. azula’s a prodigy she can be overpowered for a bit)

why did she kill her dad? she’ll swear up and down that it was because “he really should have picked on someone with a better fighting ability than zuzu. honestly, it’s stupid he didn’t lose his honor after frying my pathetic firebender of a brother to a crisp.” it’s actually because she kind of sort of loves zuko. she will NEVER admit that.

iroh becomes fire lord, albeit a bit reluctantly. he spends the next three years attempting to end the war, stop the spread of propaganda in the fire nation, and deal with his niece and nephew bickering all the time.

so aang comes out of the iceberg. meets katara and sokka. katara convinces him to take her to the north pole because he’s the avatar, he still should probably master all four elements war or not. all of the traveling is the same (except zuko chasing them) until they get to omashu and king bumi is like “what’s up my dude, welcome back. we’re recovering from a war, so you should probably learn politics and how to not offend anyone while you master the elements!!”

(“there was a WAR?!?!!!” -aang, probably)

so now aang does a deep dive into all of the nation’s politics while also training. katara doesn’t really attend his meetings, but sokka’s a total nerd and is sat for every single one. first is waterbending at the north pole. insert canon things but add in a meeting with arnook.

this is where we introduce the REAL enemy, because the enemy can’t be the gaang attempting to learn international law at 12, 14, and 15 years old. during the full moon someone assassinates the moon spirit! (sorry yue, i love you but you still die in this au…)

so after mastering waterbending the gaang heads to the earth kingdom. they meet toph and she joins. they head to ba sing se, which, after trying to talk politics with the king, they realize is still completely unaware of the war. while in the earth kingdom, we get a name for the big bad. the dai li. after realizing that ba sing se is basically a military dictatorship, the gaang escapes and head to the fire nation.

that’s where zuko, azula, and iroh get reintroduced. aang and sokka consistently come back from meetings with the royals complaining about “oh my god, the princess is such a bitch. seriously, how is she allowed to help run this country??”

katara eventually goes with the boys to a meeting to get them to shut up. toph makes fun of her for being a people pleaser, but katara will do literally anything to get her brother and best friend to stop yapping about the same topic at her every. single. day.

azula (disaster lesbian) doesn’t say a single word throughout the entire meeting. sokka and aang walk out feeling like they were in the twilight zone. katara shows up to more and more meetings. why? definitely not cause the princess is sort of kind of somewhat cute intriguing.

insert azula’s gay awakening crisis here. she eventually starts talking at the meetings, but she’s only ever nice to katara lmao. katara does realize that azula’s an actual genius, though. she decides that the two of them could probably like, take over the entirety of ba sing se in a day if they tried hard enough. but of course that is purely hypothetical.

so one day a meeting gets interrupted by a literal dai li assassin trying to kill aang. he barely escapes the resulting fight.

so the dai li send more assassins. and even more assassins. until finally zuko gets fed up and is just like “alright i’m tired of dealing with these guys. can we please go kick their leader’s ass??”

that is how azula and zuko end up joining the gaang. and how azula can eventually lay siege over ba sing se (even if she reluctantly gives it back when katara tells her to).

—

other misc key points:

- azula and katara get together right before they fight with long feng. it happens cause katara notices that azula is nervous (nobody else would be able to tell) and so she’s like “zula. you’ve got this. we’ve got this” and kisses her lmao

- toph and azula are best friends, to katara’s obvious dismay

- the second azula calls zuko “zuzu” in front of sokka he immediately starts rolling on the floor and laughing. katara has to make sure his lungs are okay afterwards

- zuko: “im literally not gay??” sokka: “yeah, and toph can see”

- toph regularly comes back to wherever the gaang is staying with bags of money. she knows how to find every single illegal fighting ring in the world.

- this is a loooooong term plot. since there’s no reason to worry about the comet it can take place over many years. which also means that katara and azula literally pine for each other until they’re like 20 and everyone around them, especially (and surprisingly) aang, is like “oh my god make it stop”

[hidingoutbackstage]

Okay I’m STILL procrastinating watching s15 bc I’m SCARED so here’s my extremely biased ratings/opinions on the episodes of s14 to help me procrastinate (episodes which are multiple parts of a single story will be condensed into one slot)

Room Zero: SO cute and good, I LOVED the animation style, it was simple and short but really well done with great colors, fun alien designs, and fluid animation, and I just like seeing the guys go on missions like that. It's a shame that the animated show never got picked up bc I would've adored seeing more of it. 10/10

From Stumbled Beginnings: Very cute and funny origin story for Simmons and Grif, and I love that they were p much always together since they enlisted lmao makes their dynamic rlly good and the humor actually got a couple laughs out of me. 8/10

Fifty Shades of Red: Sarge's humor never quite landed with me like is has for some people (my boyfriend lmao I literally have to pause episodes sometimes so he can stop laughing. Anyway) but it was a very humorous and in character origin for him as well. 5/10

Why They’re Here: Less interesting than the previous two, obviously just meant to fill in plot "holes" and to also show us the origins of the other characters. Also I am completely ignoring that one line from Tucker in the interview, just gonna chalk it up to the "edgy" humor it does not exist to me. 4/10

The Brick Gulch Chronicles: WONDERFUL stop motion, very fun and cute and entertaining, very wholesome and still in the vibe with what the show itself is. I appreciate the willingness to do stop motion for most of it. 10/10

Red Army Unit FH57’s Adventure: It was kinda interesting and kinda funny but I found myself kinda tuning it out cuz it just felt kinda whatever. The combo of the different animation styles was cool though and I thought the ship misunderstanding them was funny. 5/10

Locus and Felix: Okay I'm gonna be a black sheep for a second and say that I rlly don't care that much about Locus and Felix. I don't think Felix is a secretly deep sadboi whom I'm gonna spend an unnecessary amount of time thinking about, I don't think Locus as secretly good all along, and I don't care that much about their partnership and what they were like before Chorus. That being said, the animation here is absolutely gorgeous, this is probably my favorite animated story in the whole season, it looks awesome. The plot is nothing special but who cares like I said it's beautiful, 6/10

Fight the Good Fight!: VERY funny and well-executed propaganda video, short and sweet and nothing more to it. It does its job. 5/10

Meta vs. Carolina: Dawn of Awesome: Another one I really don't care for because literally everything leading UP to the fight between Meta and Carolina is a waste of time. Maybe some people really care about their weapons and stats, but I don't. And even then, you kinda know Carolina is gonna win the fight, the question is just how. 4/10

Grey vs. Gray: I don't know or care about the Game Grumps and the entire thing felt like a short gag that went on for way too long with a predictable ending. 2/10

Caboose's Guide to Making Friends: Again, ADORABLE art style and very cute having a story be told from Caboose's perspective. 7/10

Head Cannon: Kinda funny I guess. I wish we'd gotten it spread out more equally among the heads Omega jumped into. Ik he didn't spend equal time in there but who cares. Whatever, still funny. 5/10

Get Bent: I LAUGHED PROBABLY THE HARDEST AT THIS ONE AND THAT'S MOSTLY BC OF LESBIAN DONUT IT CAUGHT ME OFF GUARD AND IT WAS HILARIOUS (also hello, bisexual church?) 9/10

Red vs. Blue: The Musical: it was fine. it was creative. The dancing was well animated. Enjoyable. 5/10

Mr. Red vs. Mr. Blue: I haven't seen Reservoir Dogs but Kaikaina was in this which automatically boosts it to a 8/10 (I also like that they have movie nights it's cute)

RvB Throwdown: Fine but mostly forgettable. 3/10

The Triplets Story: REALLY interesting concept (y'all know I love the freelancers) that felt like it dragged on too long and only gave Ohio something to do. 4/10

Immersion: The Warthog Flip: I loved the costumes and the actual Warthog and it got a couple laughs out of me. 5/10

Red vs. Blue vs. Rooster Teeth: This was made for the fans/themselves. As someone who is neither, none of it was funny and I just kinda waited for it to be over. At least the animation of the armor irl looked rlly good

[sibillascribbles08]

Decided to do the TMNTVDAY month because I need to spread more propaganda for this ship (I see y’all liking all the posts for it on my blog I SEE you)

1. In which TMNT universe does your pairing exist?

Rise, mainly because it’s the only one I’m still familiar with haha

2. Introduce us to your OTP.

Hi it’s Jasonnie, I’m predictable. Jason and Donnie (”Who the fuck is Jason”) He’s the little purple dragon guy. I literally can’t blame you if you don’t remember he’s in THREE episodes ! (Would he have been in more if the show hadn’t been cut off? I can hope) Anyway my brain has a terrible habit of looking at underdeveloped background characters and saying “it’s free real estate”, so lets be very clear the only reason I love his character so much is cause I made like 89% of it aslkjf.

3. How did they meet?

According to canon, when Donnie was helping April in the computer lab where he tried to show off and then got all his shit stolen lmao.

4. How is the relationship now?

Depends how long it’s been. The few stories I have with this ship always take the route of enemies to friends to lovers, and some move much slower than others haha.

But I suppose to give more details and elaborate on how I picture their dynamic, although the two come to adore each other there’s always an antagonistic streak between them that never goes away, it just becomes more playful rather than mean. Affectionate insults are a regular occurrence, and neither of them have an issue with calling the other out when they do something stupid. You’d think it’d lead to more arguments, but generally their combined blunt nature causes them to communicate more often (not that there aren’t still snags that come up).

Also like, nerds, in more ways than one. Sure the tech stuff is obvious but while Donnie adores Jupiter Jim, Lou Jitsu and Atomic Lass, Jase is over here with tons of gundam and transformer models and will watch any film that features a giant robot. More than one date is spent with one or the other talking about something for an hour and a half straight.

5. What is each other’s love language?

Donnie’s main one is gift giving, which sometimes goes overboard. Jase has to be careful mentioning he ever wants anything because there’s a good chance Donnie will show up a week later having either bought it, stolen it, or built it from scratch. He also likes to give things when he makes apologies, often cookies or snacks.

Jase’s is actually touch, though it took some time for him to be on a comfort level for that to be obvious. You wouldn’t expect it either, for how often he complains if Donnie ever picks him up, but he enjoys almost any form of contact. For the days Donnie’s overwhelmed and isn’t up for it, he’s also content to just sit in the same room (Quality time being his secondary language).

6. Do they get married or have any kids?

I may never write about it but yes asldjf fun fact tho, Donnie names their daughter Holly (after Holly Blue).

7. What is your favorite thing about this pairing? (Gush as much as you want!)

Listen part of it is just “I built one of these characters from the ground up so I can make this whatever I want” but I really enjoy how their dynamic evolved into keeping each other in check. Jase not eating properly due to anxiety? Donnie brings him his favorite snacks and will stare at him until he eats some of it. Donnie working almost non stop for twelve hours ? Jase snapping at him and possibly even wrestling a device out of his grip until he goes to lay down.

Oh also uh, height difference. Yeah I hc that Donnie gets up to freaking 6′11″ when he’s fully grown and Jase is stuck at 5′3″ sooo

yeah

[skhardwarevers2]

On “Hating” your creations

Okay first off, first OC rant!

Secondly, I’ve been thinking a tad bit too much about my relationship with my own characters. Because, yeah. These guys are from my brain! It’s crazy to think about–but it’s true

However, It doesn’t stop me from despising them at times, sometimes for things out of their control.

The most obvious example (for those of you who were around in the height of my career) would be Mr. Crayon “everything’s fine” Worms. I hated him sometimes, he was–for lack of better words–a complete asshole. And I’m not saying I hate that I wrote a piece of shit character who really shouldn’t be redeemable at all–I loved flawed characters with all my heart (mind & soul)–but sometimes I wonder “why?”

Because, I didn’t have to write him that way. I act as if I didn’t write him (and maybe I didn’t. Maybe he has his own will that I just happen to record in my brain) and that it’s someone else’s fault that he’s so–again for lack of better words–fucked up. 

But then it also happens with other characters. Believe it or not, I hated Jeanine for a short bit (Both Jeanine and the Parasite actually, I’ve only recently grown to sympathize for the Parasite). When her and Crayon had that little “swapping eyes” event happen–I hated that she so quickly switched up on him. I get why she did, but I also don’t. Most of the extreme comments were made by the Parasite, but the Parasite is a reflection of her inner self really–so she was feeling that anger. But she knows damn well that she’s not perfect either, part of me wanted her to at least hear him talk it out a little bit. I didn’t want her to still like him, but I didn’t want her to hate him. (then again I struggle with writing interactions, so who knows if it could’ve happened anyway) 

And most recently I’ve grown to despise the CYBR versions of Crayon and Moon (which I am working on! I’m just burnt out and focusing on becoming an academic weapon for once…sorry)

I can’t get too much into why (spoilers–duh) but I will say that they didn’t start off nearly as bad as their Canon(AIWIH) counterparts. And yet self destruction takes place and they both ruin each other. Maybe it’s just meant to be that way. I can’t help but hate them though. (for the like…two of you who follow my tiktok you might have seen the “untouched picture” in an art dump with the caption “KRILL YOURSELVES!”–that might have been an expression of how much I hate them). They’re just terrible people, I would argue worse than the AIWIH versions of them–which is saying a lot because AIWIH Crayon killed his girlfriend…so…

But I still can’t help but feel strange hating things I wrote and created. I know why they’re like that, and you’d think I’d find a way to reason something out in my head so I maybe don’t want to mentally tear them apart every time I think of them. 

However I think that does say something good about my morals, maybe

I’m not taking any of this too seriously, it’s just silly little fiction in my head that has no real effect on the world whatsoever, but it’s interesting to think about. 

Whether it be characters I have real reasons for hating (Crayon, Moon, Procyon, Koeia…ugh I hate Koeia) or ones I just happen to dislike sometimes (Antares & Regulus…sorry. 313…kinda, random versions of the CDs at times, Felix and Debbie Star, the list goes on…) it happens a lot.

I guess I just have a habit of creating two separate mindsets–one that writes, and one that reads the writing from an outside perspective. In the moment, I love the writing and the story–and out of it I find myself picking apart my work like a theorist. 

Who knows, maybe I’m just strange

I mostly wrote this post just because I hate CYBR Crayon, and don’t have any ideas for filler in the time that I’m spending trying not to get completely burnt out (again) 

I love spreading Anti-CYBR Crayon propaganda <3 (/silly)

anyway…I hate my son and all of you should also hate him with me…send him detailed hate letters…/j

[strawberrylemonz]

Be Okay

Part 8

Part 9 [CURRENT]

Part 10

DT: @petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @jump-in-the-cadillac @ivorylin

Enjoy!

------------

The kids were fast asleep in their room, all drained of their energy reserves from playing so much with each other. In the living area, Fundy sat on the couch, staring out the window. The sound of a throat clearing brought him back to reality. Turning to his side, he saw Tommy hold out a cup of tea to him, his own cup of tea in his other hand. Accepting the drink with a nod, Fundy took small sips as he enjoyed the calming sensation in the room. He shifted over on the couch, allowing space for Tommy to settle down. The two sat in a comfortable silence, one that Fundy was nervous to break. 

“I’m glad you’re not dead, Tommy”

He willed himself to look over at his uncle, not sure what to expect. He still remembered his uncle as a brash, loud, spirited teenage boy, so it was strange to see him the way he was an adult. Sill startled with how calm the boy could be, Fundy watched as Tommy, eyes closed, simply nodded as he took a sip of his tea. Letting out a sigh, Tommy opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling with a warm look in his eyes.

“I’m also glad that I’m not dead” 

The two sat in silence once more, their teas running low. After looking around the room, Fundy spoke up once more.

“Did you actually build your house? I remember that you always hated building.”

The low chuckle of his uncle made him squirm. It wasn’t that he was scared or uncomfortable with it, it was just that it had been so long. When was the last time Fundy just sat down, warm drink in hand, just to stay up and talk to Tommy? His mind immediately went back to the days of his childhood, before the wars forced his mind to shift his body into an older state. He remembered how Tommy would rush to his room, no matter how old Fundy was, just to calm him and keep him from waking a very tired, lonely Wilbur. He remembered how Tommy would carry him into the kitchen, letting him sit on the counter as long as Wilbur never found out he did so. He would watch as his uncle made two cups of hot cocoa, and took Fundy back to his room. The two would sit in silence, listening to Tommy’s discs, until Fundy would fall asleep. Sometimes, if Fundy had a very bad nightmare, they would stay up and talk the night away. Until this very moment, Fundy didn’t realize how much he missed times like this. Smiling down at his tea, he listened as Tommy spoke up. 

“Yeah, I built this house. Did it myself, too. It was the first official build, aside from my bench in the market, on this server. Everyone else was so focused on teaching me how to properly build and work with all sorts of materials, so I eventually made them proud by creating this. I’ve noticed that it’s been slowly growing as the days go by. It’s quite comforting, really.”

“And this adventure park you’ve been advertising? When will it be done? Who helped?”

“Innit an Adventure? Built that all by myself, no help at all. It’s already done being built, I just pushed opening day back a few months so the server can properly prepare to hosts the guests.”

Fundy nodded as he hummed in acknowledgment, a habit he had picked up from Tommy when he was much younger. No longer afraid of the possibility of being thrown out by his uncle, Fundy continued the conversation. 

“So Tubbo and the girls are doing good? Tubbo just vanished the same day you did, and Drista stopped visiting after a while.”

“They’re doing perfectly fine, actually. They all live in Stampy’s Lovely World. It’s a nice server, I’m glad that they ended up there. Hey, Fundy?”

“Hm?”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how’s the server?”

Tommy watched as his nephew deflated, a shaky sigh leaving him. Not wanting to push the boy past his limits, Tommy was quick to speak up once again.

“You don’t have to answer me right now, I understand needed to wait before discussing certain things.”

“No, you deserve to know the situation. It’s, well, it’s complicated? So much has happened since you and Tubbo left the server. I’m not even completely sure as to what’s all happening because went into hiding. I do know that Philza and Technoblade have gone around, destroying anything that they identified as a government. Dream went off the rails searching for the two of you, and he’s threatened and punished anyone he though was hiding you guys from him. We received some new players in the server. They’ve helped settle down some of the threats. Oh, remember that weird red stuff that was spreading?”

“Yeah, what was that shit, anyways?”

“Apparently it sprouted from that egg, you know, from that weird egg propaganda? It started possessing and corrupting the members of the Badlands. From what I’ve heard, it’s been temporarily contained and the possessed members have returned to their normal state, but who knows how long that will last. When I left, the containment seemed so unstable. Oh, there is the thing with Wilbur.”

“What about Wilbur?”

“The last time I stumbled upon Philza, he was trying to resurrect him. I don’t know if they succeeded, though. Quite frankly, I’m not sure if I want to know.”

He felt like a jerk telling his uncle, the brother of his dad, that he wasn’t even sure that he wanted his dad to be alive. He didn’t even bring himself to explain his reasons for it, how he was scared whether or not his dad would be the dad he used to have, or the one that was barely recognizable. His negative thoughts, however, melted away as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking over at his uncle, he didn’t expect to see the understanding grin that danced on Tommy’s lips. He didn’t expect to hear the broken, wavering voice of Tommy.

“I know.”

Fundy stiffened as Tommy put an arm around his nephew, pulling him in for a side hug. After moments of hesitation, Fundy eventually relaxed in the embrace. It had been so long since Fundy has felt such affection by family that wasn’t his son. He sucked in a breathe as he tried to not let out the sob that was bubbling up inside him. Once he heard Tommy’s voice, however, he allowed tears to escape. It was okay, though, because he knew Tommy was letting his own tears out as well. And as Tommy put a hand on Fundy’s head, lightly scratching his comfort spot between his ears, Fundy couldn’t stop the half sigh, half sob that escaped his lips. And as soon as Tommy spoke up again, he let out all the hurt he kept cooped up out, in the form of messy sobs. 

“It’s okay, Fundy, you can let it out now. You’re free now. You’ll be okay.”

------------

Fundy felt relieved that he didn’t have to be on guard all hours of both day and night. He was grateful that Tommy let him sleep in that morning, assuring him that he would handle the kids’ breakfast. Yawning as he stretched out his limbs, waking himself up, he smiled as he looked around the guest room that would be converted to his own. Don’t get him wrong, Fundy adored Theo, but it was nice to be able to wake up without fear or stress regarding his son’s health and safety. When he walked into the kitchen, he couldn’t help but smile as the kids helped Tommy with breakfast. As Tommy set down the hot cakes on plates, the kids fought over the fruit and syrup to decorate them. And as Theo laughed aloud, smiling brightly, Fundy realized that he didn’t regret a thing regarding his son. 

“Papa! Look! Clem and I made this one to look like you!”

Fundy laughed as he walked over to the kids, saying a quick greeting to his uncle. Accepting the plate from the two children, he smiled down at the beaming faces in front of them. Watching as the two settled themselves on the counter, he took turns ruffling their hair with his free hand. 

“Look at you two! Wonderful artists! Good job! Thank you!”

Delighted with the praises, Clem squealed as she clapped her hands, hopping up and down as she sat on her side of the counter. Theo laughed as he joined in on the clapping, equally as delighted as his younger cousin. Fundy just laughed as he helped Tommy carry the plates to the table, the children waddling behind once they were released from their tall prisons. Sitting Theo down beside Clementine, Fundy watched as Tommy poured drinks for everyone. And as they all sat down to enjoy breakfast as a family, Fundy knew that Tommy was right.

He would be okay.

[sorcerersofnyc]

The Last Thing Left (Zemo x F!Reader) 9/9 - The Epilogue

If it wasn’t so painfully ironic (and hilarious to watch,) Helmut would find the relationship between Sam and James a little sad.

Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.

While they wait for Torres to locate Donya Madani, Zemo brings Sam and Bucky to the home he once shared with you.

You reunite and he reflects upon his relationship with you (his wife’s friend and his friend’s wife) and your journey from being people with mutual friends to partners.

Part Nine: You Carry On

Angst, brief allusions to sex, I use Serbian Cyrillic as a stand-in for Sokovian.

Note: Main Character is neutral in most regards, but the story was written with my own cultural background in mind. (In other words, I won’t say what she looks like but I envision her as being black.)

First Chapter | Previous

***

You watch him go.

You watch him leave you once again— watch him go off into some dark, unknown future you can never be a part of.

And it hurts.

It hurts to know how much you’ll miss him, hurts to think you'll never see him again.

You take a deep breath (and another and another and another) but the pain only spreads faster as dread closes in all around you.

You feel lost in it, drowned by it, changed by it—but you won’t surrender to it. You’ve walked this road before and you know the way forward. So you take a step, then another, and you turn away from the outside world with a heavy, ragged breath.

The kitchen is far too cheery now. The sun streams inside through the open curtains, and the smell of coffee lingers in the air. Helmut washed the dishes before he left, leaving only his favorite mug behind. It stares at you from its place on the countertop, its dark ceramic gleaming in the light.

You don’t feel your knees buckle or your hands shake, you don’t feel the mangled sob rising up from your chest, you don’t feel the tears that gather at the corner of your eyes and pour down your cheeks like heavy rain.

Your body lurches forward. You reach out to steady yourself but somehow manage to knock the mug over instead. It strikes the title with a sickening clink that echoes through the air.

It chips, but it doesn't shatter. The coffee spills from the mouth and spreads fans out in every direction, staining the tiles on the floor.

Helmut would never know you chipped his favorite mug—but you cry about it anyway.

You cry for the life you could have had together, one where you dumped the stale remnants of his coffee every morning, one where your first kiss wasn’t also the last, one where he held you every day, and you healed your hearts together instead of apart.

You cried because your feelings had no place else to go.

*

Time passes.

*

Time passes.

*

Time passes.

*

You’re alright; you don’t break, or bend, or toil beneath the weight of your grief. The world moves forward, and so do you:

Anežka returns. (“How was the Baron?” She asks you. “We’re the two of you able to… become familiar with one another?” You wish.)

You learn Helmut was taken to the raft. (You order his affairs and have his things sent over to him.)

Sam Wilson becomes Captain America. (He gives a speech that inspires the world to do better.)

The Flag Smashers are killed in a car bombing. (‘No suspects as of yet,’ the report says and your heart tightens at the thought of who might have been responsible.)

You carry on.

*

You receive a package in the mail one day, a thick brochure from The Raft outlining the specifics of a Prison Work Rehabilitation Program.

The front photo was disturbingly picturesque, framing the facility as less of a prison and more like a seaside resort.

'Propaganda,’ you think as you flip through the glossy pages. The program is endorsed by some guy named Thaddeus Ross. You think he was a general or a secretary or something but you aren’t quite sure.

The back of the brochure displays an image of a happy family reuniting and you roll your eyes. Prisoners on the Raft don’t get to go home to their families.

You toss the brochure away without a second thought.

*

A few weeks later, you’re sent flowers after an art show. It’s a beautiful arrangement; twelve thick-stemmed roses wrapped in gold foil.

It adds a classic touch to the modern look of the Visiting Artists’ Office, standing out amongst the dark tables and chairs. But it’s the card that catches your attention; it was left completely blank.

You aren’t sure how you feel about having a secret admirer but you take the flowers home regardless. They’d look nice in a vase near the window, the bright reds mixing with the autumn leaves.

The trip home is short and uneventful and you thank your driver on the way to the door.

You slide your house slippers on and are surprised to see Anežka’s pink one’s by the door as well. You can hear her in the kitchen, opening and closing the doors of the pantry as the air grows warm with the spices of her favorite tea.

“Anežka,” You call out, “I’m home!”

You set the flowers on a side table, barely conscious of the soft footsteps trailing in from the kitchen till Anežka sets her mug down on the coffee table.

“Look what I’ve got. A 'secret admirer’ sent them. Should we put them here or downstairs?” You take an artful picture of the arrangement.

“Neither is a wholly appropriate place.”

You freeze.

Your mind draws blank as it fails to process the words you heard someone other than Anežka speak.

You turn around quickly, knocking the flowers off the table as you do.

“Helmut?” Your voice lowers as a million feelings bubble up inside of you. They threaten to explode.

Helmut is there—right there—dressed in nothing but a bathrobe and his house slippers with a cat-like smile stretched across his handsome features.

He strides forward with confidence, stopping so close you nearly reel back.

“These are special flowers, драга, brought all the way from Ecuador.” He kneels before you, the hem of his robe splitting at the knee to offer a very seductive glimpse of his thigh.

He reaches around you, grabs the fallen bouquet, and sets them gingerly on the table as he stands. “We should place these in your bedroom so you may admire them every night.”

“What’s happening?” You finally manage to ask him, “what’s going on?”

“I’m home,” Helmut teases, speaking as though you failed to notice his soft brown eyes, his damp hair, or the heat that surges between you as he stands close enough to touch, to kiss if you wanted.

He brushes a hand against your cheek.

“Helmut,” you whisper again, but your voice is stern and more controlled this time. “How are you here? You’re supposed to be in Raft.” Despite your words, you lean a little closer, resting both hands against his chest, near the opening of his robe.

“It seems someone of great influence decided my sentence was better served outside the walls of the prison.”

“Like civil service?” You ask, but then you remember the brochure you received in the mail— the propaganda, or so you believed. “Or… Prison Work Rehabilitation?”

“Something like that. There’s a team,” he makes a flippant gesture with his hand before bringing it to rest on the curve of your hip. “Though I needed time to address the matter of my… financial limitations.”

“Limitations?”

“Of course.” He pulls you closer, encircling you in his arms. “The holder of my assets is quite a formidable woman. I thought it best to pay her a visit, to request access to the full extent of my resources. As stubborn as she is, I assume it will take a great many visits.”

“That would be wise,” You nod slowly, a wide smile coming to your face.

“I can’t be with you always, драга,” he tells you, “but I will be here.”

And you don’t quite remember what you promise in reply (or if you promised anything at all) because he kisses you.

Your fingers slide down his chest, brushing past his chest hair and the little charm he wears around his neck.

You don’t know how long you stay there, kissing, and sighing, and melting in the arms of the man you love, but you’re vaguely aware of being walked back against the wall, of the front door opening and closing at some point, and of Anežka pausing by the threshold, groceries in hand.

“Anežka,” He greets her, but his dark and hungry gaze lingers on you, only you.

“Hello, Baron… It’s good to see you.” Her voice waivers, but the sentiment is real. “M-Miss,” she nods in your direction.

“Hi, Anežka.” You’re not quite sure what to say.

“Why don’t you take a few days off?” Helmut suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care of things here.”

“O-of course, Baron—Thank you.” Anežka glances between you one more time before setting the bags down near the door. “Good luck, Miss!” She calls out before leaving.

And as her footsteps grow quiet and hush in the distance, his eyes meet yours and his kiss finds its home upon your lips.

(And later when Helmut comes undone beneath your gaze and the rocking of your hips against his, you bring him home once again.)

And he keeps coming home to you.

***

And so we've reached the end. Thanks so much for reading! I appreciate all the support. This was my first fanfic in many years and I'm glad I could bring it to a close.

The end is a bit of wishful thinking on my part but I wanted to end on a happy note.

I'll probably write one or two bonuschapter that's basically just smut. So if you're 18+ and would like to remain on the taglist (or be added,) just let me know!

Taglist:

@actuallyanita, @fillechatoyante, @viviace, @buckyandlokicanhaveme, @sapphiredreamer26, @robur-bellicum, @apparrio

Previous

[crystalirises]

im here to spread a studio ghibli au propaganda

you know how ponyo has a human as a father and a sea goddess as a mother?

its fundy, wilbur and sally.

(as ponyo is a large sum of comfort for me (and is fundy) im thinking about drawing them soon ♥️)

Hiya! Omg, I absolutely adore Ponyo! It's such a nice film and there it's not one of those high-stake movies (though flooding the homes is a bit of a serious conflict XD). It's just such a nice movie and it's definitely one of my favorite Studio Ghibli movies along with Spirited Away, The Cat Returns, and The Secret World of Arrietty.

And yeeeeessssss I would love to see a drawing of that! I've only seen... two? And I'm just, I need more content of this AU.

I made Wilbur... sorta not human? Cause I remember the guy couldn't walk on dry land and saw humans as dangerous? I don't know what's up with that dude but I guess... humans and dry ground bad. Also I checked and he was once-human, but he’s a wizard/scientist. So... I don’t know what that’s about but okay.

And the human kid that Ponyo befriends, Sōsuke, I made to be Dream because... why not XD

Also, the one I wrote isn't exactly the scene from the movie cause the last time I watched it I was like... 14? I should probably watch it again soon though.

Anyway, thank you so much for the prompt! Hope you like this!

"Humans are dangerous." He placed his hands against the cluttered table, notes upon notes of unfinished symphonies scattered against one another. Wilbur was exhausted, he'd spent the whole afternoon trying to retrieve his son who had unfortunately escaped to a nearby human village. "You're lucky, most fish don't come back home alive."

“I want Dream!” His little fry slammed against the glass of the tank, swimming angrily through the seaweed before hitting the glass again. “I want Dream!”

“You don’t know what you want.” Wilbur glanced at the house, at the potions that brewed along the sides. “You’re home, you won’t be going back anytime soon.”

He shouldn’t have looked away for even a moment, Sally herself had warned him that Fundy would be quite adventurous. Wilbur turned his back for one second and somehow Fundy had gotten out into the ocean. He was only grateful that Fundy hadn’t gone too far inland. Wilbur ran a hand through his hair, taking in a deep breath. His son had stopped hitting the glass, perhaps realizing that it was a fruitless endeavor, but the silence was worrying. He glanced over, “son?”

Fundy had begun to tremble violently. His breath stuck in his throat as Fundy began to morph into a somewhat humanoid shape. Fuck. Wilbur pressed his hands against the tank, heart beating loudly in his chest. Fundy’s eyes were closed in deep concentration, almost like he was willing the transformation to go quicker. “Fundy, stop that! Stop! You’ve tasted human blood, haven’t you? Stop!”

“No!” Fundy let out a high-pitched whine, “I want Dream!”

The transformation was growing worse. Wilbur reached into the tank, cupping his son’s body in his hands. Fundy began to shriek, kicking at his palms with the fury of a shark. He continued to hold on, willing his magic to flow through his body and into his hands. He couldn’t let Fundy give away his form and turn into human. Not only would he and Sally lose their only child, but he would disturb the natural order of the world. Fundy’s struggles started to slow down, his angry screams turning to soft whimpers. Wilbur waited for a moment before letting go.

Fundy floated down to the bottom of the tank, eyes drifting open and close. The forced transformation would tire him, but it was necessary. Wilbur had no choice.

He waited, counting down the seconds. Wilbur waited, praying to the gods of sleep for his son to enter their realms. They answered. Fundy’s eyes closed, limbs relaxing as he fell into a deep sleep. He let out a shaky sigh. Wilbur needed to contact his wife, but he couldn’t do that if his son was awake and aware. Fundy would try to transform into a human again. Wilbur can’t have that.

It was for Fundy’s own safety, after all. Oh, and the world’s too.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“This is a problem.” Wilbur paced the deck, wringing his hands together while the storm continued to rage in the distance. Somehow, someway, Fundy had escaped their home. “The balance of the world will be in tatters and Fundy—”

“My darling, please.” Sally emerged from the sea, her dazzling red hair breaking through the darkness of the ocean. He always felt so small in her presence.

“His magic is growing too powerful for me to contain. And he’s become friends with a human. He’s probably already made his way to the human’s home.” He ran a hand through his hair, relishing in the cold spray of sea water that splashed against his side. “My love, I believe he’s consumed human blood... There’s nothing to be done, the transformation can only be held back for so long.”

Sally reached out her hand, nearly enveloping him in her hold.

“That is quite the problem.” Sally hummed underneath her breath, brow creasing in thought. Wilbur held his breath. He would have to respect his wife’s decision, even if his mind screamed at him to bring Fundy home. “A human... Interesting.”

Sally gave him a playful smile, “Well, there could only be one solution.”

Wilbur understood that smile. He did not like it.

“A test.” Sally laughed, “To see if this human could truly love a child of the sea.”

[justanotherghostwriter]

ooh SaL Life for the WIP ask game!! love Sleeping at Last i'm so curious

You spoil me. Thank you. <3

I'm going to try and not spoil the whole fic in this ask. ETA: I realised after posting that I just had real delusions of grandeur. Like the handful of people who follow me would count spoilers for a fic that may never be written as an actual thing. So. I added a lot of detail to the end of the original answer lol.

One day, I was innocently listening to Life while... cleaning, I think. Anyway, for some reason, on that particular day, the lines "I saw the future unfold like silver and gold and I'm already proud" slapped even harder than usual. My brain went, 'gold, like Fire Nation eyes. Silver, like Water Tribe clothes and jewellery.' And, before I knew it, a whole fic had spawned.

It should really be called Momtara and Dadko: the fanfic because it... really is just them being parents.

So the teaser is this: the Gaang loses the war. The Earth Kingdom isn't decimated, but everything else just doesn't go their way. Everybody has to go and hide so Ozai and Azula don't find them. Katara takes an injured-because-he-took-lightning-for-her Zuko to the closest colony they can reach before she can't Waterbend them any further (Appa flew away to find Aang when the Spiritbending lights went wonky in the sky. He just... knew something was up.) They get only one hawk from the White Lotus: stay hidden. Do what you can for the war where you are but stay hidden.

And no other communication comes. They try to send out encoded messages in so many ways, but there's just... radio silence. They don't know where people are, who is still alive... Randomly moving around is too dangerous for either of them, even in disguise, because the FN has air patrols everywhere and navy patrols and they aren't letting up. And so Katara, who is very practical about knowing when a fight isn't worth it, convinces reckless Zuko to just stay put. For now. They settle down on the colony island, and do what they can. Stop crime. Open a healer hut. Zuko teaches basic defence and helps out with construction and farming. (He's... very good with the animals.)

And, before they know it... Well. They don't forget about the war, of course, but... life goes on. They stop waiting quite so tensely for the Order or the Gaang to show up and give them instructions. Work instead on their own underground movement that spreads through the colonies. Zuko starts teaching night classes in secret about the Fire Nation's real history. With Katara's help, he starts exposing the propaganda. And people listen. And people spread it. And the masses start thinking.

Before they know it, eight years have passed. They've made a life for themselves. Never forgetting the war but... life goes on, you know? Even in the midst of war, life just... finds ways to carry on.

One day, Katara is at the market grabbing some bandages when somebody touches her elbow and it's Sokka. She hugs him, cries, and then starts yelling. He apologises, explains that they only just realised they had a traitor in the mix stopping their communication and he's so, so sorry. Turns out they're all there - Hakoda, Suki, Toph, Iroh, Pakku, Piandao, Bato, Aang. Aang and Toph are twenty. It's... so weird. But so good to see them. Katara can see that Aang has only just started to get over the guilt of failing. It's there in his eyes.

Pakku says they shouldn't linger on the street, because anybody could report them, Katara invites them back to her clinic and then says, "But there are some important things you need to know, up front." Pakku says not now, not now and Katara gets irritated at him and says fine. Find out in the worst ways, then.

The rest all sit in the clinic's waiting room, introduced to the other two staff members as special medical cases Katara will deal with after closing. There's a cute little girl who goes around the waiting room very solemnly asking how people are, and if she can get them a glass of water or a blanket or something. Iroh, especially, is charmed by her. She reaches the Gaang and goes through her spiel, gold eyes very earnest in her tanned face, and Iroh offers her candy. She says she can't eat candy without asking her mom, first, and then yells across the room at Katara, just finished with her third-last patient, asking permission. Katara distractedly gives it and, while the Gaang are already reeling, proudly introduces herself: "I'm Kya. I'm four."

Everybody thus has to quickly come to terms with the fact that Zuko and Katara are married. And had a kid. And they missed it. And then we have these two as parents helping to end the war by still being very good parents. Kya does not end up the only kid in this fic, is the only thing I'll say about that. :P

Two things I obsessively think about often:

- Kya having nightmares and her 'safe space' to go back to sleep being on Zuko. Whether he's asleep, or still awake. So one of the reoccurring scenes is Zuko working on something and Kya being asleep on his lap. Or Zuko meditating early in the morning and Kya wanting to do the same and then falling asleep on his lap. xD Nothing profound. I'm just a sap.

- Kya being a Firebender. I realise this is super contentious, and I'm hoping I can handle this as delicately as possible. I've just spoken to so many inter-racial or inter-tribal couples who have said the same thing: without wanting to put this huge pressure on their kids for being metaphors of the change!!!! they have seen how much healing happens in families (and even in the parents themselves) when a """mixed kid"""" is born and shows attributes of both cultures. They've been super interesting conversations like you won't believe. Full of recounts of so much pain. And so much love and hope, even in the continuous bitterness of how reality can be. And I just... there's something in me that can't let go of Katara and Zuko seeing that "making a difference in the world" is sometimes a "small thing". I have this half-formed line of, "We're not the Avatar. But we can all bring balance in our own way." And just Kya asking her mother whether Gran-Gran Kya would be sad that her namesake is a Firebender when bad Firebenders took her away. And Katara kissing her daughter all over and reminding her that there can be good Firebenders, too. And Kya is one of them. And her mom would probably have been proud that her name was given to one of the people reversing the cycle of Fire only destroying and taking away. Zuko needs to see that he can give life. And, thanks to LOK, we know that Firebending healers exist so...

Yeah. As I said. A sticky line to walk. But, if this fic comes to be, I wanna walk it, maybe.

(ALSO the lines: "as she drew her first breath, I learned what love meant. And my heart reconciled all the darkness and light inside my chest" for both Zuko and Katara is so, so, so, so, so powerful. I'm going to have to go listen to the song again now.)

[smiting-finger]

this exists because I love Wen Ning

The period after the Yiling Patriarch's return is rife with rumour. They spread like wildfire throughout the Wizarding world, each seemingly wilder than the last: Wei Wuxian put part of his soul into a baby so his followers could bring him back to life, Wei Wuxian was alive all along and living under a different identity using Polyjuice (accounts of the precise identity vary) - soon even tales of the Ghost General being seen again begin to spread.

The students of Gusu Academy are taught not to put any stock into idle gossip (and frankly, it's a little too convenient that the Ghost General has popped up right now, when he's had any time within the past ten years to make an appearance), but who among them didn't grow up on stories of the Yiling Patriarch's right-hand man, so thirsty for blood during the war that he'd risen from the dead to continue killing? And yes, it's a little ridiculous that sightings have been reported in so many places (he's a ghost, but even poltergeists don't move fast enough to travel around the Burial Mounds, Koi Tower, the Nightless City and Lotus Pier within a week. What’s he doing, anyway, taking a Grand Tour?), but that doesn't make it any less interesting, so the stories continue to circulate within the school grounds.

And then the ghost turns up right outside.

Someone is immediately sent running for the Headmaster, but it's Professor Lan who comes to the gate, Little Apple perched on his shoulder and looking curiously at the students crowding along the edge of the wards.

"Ah!" the ghost says when he approaches, speaking for the first time. "Lan Wangji! I- I don't know if you remember me, but, uh, I'm-"

"Wen Qionglin," Professor Lan says in greeting, and furious whispers travel up and down the line of students. 

The Ghost General! 

"Oh, you do remember!" the ghost - the Ghost General says, sounding quietly pleased. "I heard that - that he'd returned, and that he was here, so I…'

He trails off, looking hopefully at Professor Lan, who nods.

"He did. But he's away on a trip."

"Oh."

The Ghost General's entire figure seems to deflate.

"Then-"

"You may come inside and wait for him here," Professor Lan offers, raising a hand and holding out a small jade token. "If you'd like."

Twenty-odd pairs of wide student eyes suddenly zoom towards him.

The Ghost General's pale eyes are also wide with surprise, but he smiles and nods tentatively.

"Y-yes, I would. Thank you."

-

It just goes to show how well-grounded in principle the Gusu Academy rules are, because just a week of having Wen Qionglin among them unequivocally proves to the students that common knowledge is completely and utterly full of shit.

While no one actually believed that the Ghost General ate babies (being a ghost and therefore incapable of eating anything), most people did take it, and the other stories like it, to be illustrative of his general ferocity and cruelty, since even the conservative estimates of his bodycount in battle are alarmingly high.

Now, a general sentiment is growing amongst the student body that the influence of Jin Guangshan's self-serving propaganda must be stronger than they'd thought, because Wen Qionglin is - well.

(To be honest, they should already have known this. According to Jin Guangshan, the Yiling Patriarch was power-hungry and evil, and in the end the power-hungry one was Jin Guangshan, and Professor Wei is only evil at exam time.)

He is very strong for a poltergeist, that much is true, but he mostly uses his abilities to help Professor Lan cart around class supplies, or stop over-burdened students from dropping their books in the hallways. He can always be found hovering around the Quidditch pitch when practice is in session, waiting to catch anyone who falls off their sword and rush them to the infirmary if they've sustained any injury heavier than a bruise. He spends most mealtimes sitting next to Professor Lan and smiling nervously at anyone who meets his eye, and is terrified of Senior Professor Lan, who apparently taught him in school and left an impression.

(The students can sympathise. He's left much the same impression on them.)

In short, the poltergeist Wen Qionglin is lovely and a student group has already formed to protect him from being bullied. 

And then Professor Wei Wuxian comes back with his group of fourth- and fifth-years. 

"Young Master Wei!" Wen Qionglin exclaims, zipping through the students towards the dusty figure in the doorway, Professor Lan and Little Apple following behind him at a much more sedate pace.

"Wen Ning?" Professor Wei exclaims, halfway through shrugging his cloak off, his mouth already stretching into a beaming grin. "Where did you come from? When did you get here?!"

"I-" Wen Qionglin begins, and that's when he catches sight of Lan Sizhui walking in the door and turns even whiter than his usual ghostly pallor

"Young Master," he whispers after a moment. "Is that-"

Professor Wei smiles crookedly. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

He beckons Lan Sizhui over with a wave. "Sizhui, why don't you introduce yourself to our guest?"

"Lan Yuan," Lan Sizhui says obediently, bending into a beautifully-correct bow. "Courtesy name 'Sizhui'."

Lan, Wen Qionglin mouths soundlessly, and his gaze immediately flies to Professor Lan, who nods.

"Sizhui," Wen Qionglin repeats softly, turning back. "So your courtesy name was given to you by-"

"Professor Lan," Lan Sizhui confirms with a nod, and then shoots a curious glance in his direction.

Instead of explaining anything about Wen Qionglin, Professor Lan nods a second time and says, cryptically, "Names are for things we intend to keep." 

But it must make sense to Lan Sizhui, because he lets out a soft oh!, cheeks dusting with pink and Professor Wei grins. 

"You should make some time to spend with Senior Wen," Professor Lan tells Lan Sizhui. "After you've had time to rest and settle back in. He has a lot to speak to you about."

"There's no hurry, though," Professor Wei says, leaning in to rub the top of Little Apple's head, and then tug gently on the end of Professor Lan's hair ribbon. "Unless Wen Ning's got somewhere to rush off to - which I don't imagine he does - Hey Wen Ning, you're staying a while, right?"

"Um," Wen Qionglin says. "I - yes? If it's all right. I'd - I'd like that very much."

And these exist because I had headcanons with nowhere to go:

5 Things Lan Xichen knows about his nephews

The reason their uncle did nothing when he discovered the boys with Little Apple was that it was just so ugly. Had Little Apple been cuter, their uncle would have had no qualms in telling them to get rid of it, or at the very least punishing them for their rule-breaking. As it is, the little bird is so pitiful that their uncle simply cannot bring himself to do anything but turn a blind eye.

Wei Wuxian refers to the newly-returned Little Apple as Sizhui’s 兄长 so much that Sizhui himself starts doing the same, which is fine until the new teacher, Luo Qingyang, overhears him telling Jingyi that his 兄长 likes to nibble on his ear to get his attention.

Little Apple’s new favourite perch is Wangji’s shoulder (Wei Wuxian moves around too much), and the visual impact of this when Wangji walks through the Gusu halls has their uncle wondering what, exactly, has caused the sudden surge of student interest in the jelly-legs curse.

The Gusu house-elves like Wei Wuxian. Theirs is a friendship built on frequent, late-night kitchen visits; food provided without question and in exchange for much-coveted goods smuggled in from the muggle markets. They love Wangji because he is a Gusu Lan, raised in their domain (instead of the more usual Cloud Recesses) and under their care from the first. But they love Sizhui because he is theirs; because when Wangji brought him back, tiny, feverish and much too skinny, it was a parade of house-elves that helped a heartsick Wangji nurse him back to health. It was they who taught Wangji how to see to his needs, who rocked and soothed Sizhui to sleep when Wangji was exhausted from calling out to a ghost who never answered. It was they who comforted and cossetted Sizhui when he came back crying but didn't want Wangji to know it because someone had teased him about being adopted - about being an Outsider, about not being a Lan.

(Wangji knew. Xichen had had to intervene in a great many confrontations with other Lan parents because Wangji knew.)

5 Things Luo Qingyang knows about Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji (one of which is actually about Lan Xichen)

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji meet in first-year, on the first day of class, when they're assigned as potions partners for the year.

They become enemies approximately ten minutes later, when Lan Wangji discovers that Wei Wuxian is equally likely to follow instructions as not and Wei Wuxian discovers that Lan Wangji is a lot of fun to rile up.

They become friends the following month, when Lan Wangji comes across Wei Wuxian in the hallway, mid-scuffle with two of the Wen boys. As fists and knees go in all directions, one of them blames something or other on the fact that Wei Wuxian has no parents, and Lan Wangji stops short, says, "I also have no parents. Would you like to say something to me?" and throws himself into the fray.

When Gusu is paid a visit by its British counterpart, and the Headmaster (flanked by Professors Lan and Wei) steps forward to receive their guests, Lan Jingyi asks Lan Sizhui (in what he no doubt fondly believes to be a whisper) whether the foreign teachers are kind of….uglier than he was expecting? and receives a swift elbow to the ribs for his trouble. 

(When Qingyang tells the Headmaster about it, he glances at the copy of The Thirty-six Strategems* on his bookshelf and smiles.)

*Specifically,  美人计 or the Beauty Strategem

[hella1975]

okay but like as much as the four month time skip HURTS it’s also so good for like a lot of reasons so if this ask is jumbled and incoherent we’re just gonna pretend it’s not

bc like 1. a lot of what happens with zuko’s redemption arc in book 2 has already happened in a similar way with the swt like seeing the true effects of the war recognizing that the fire nation isn’t actually “spreading it’s greatness” and all that propaganda and zuko’s whole two sides to him so having him still have to go through book two at the same time as the gaang would leave this big space that’s just a ? if that makes sense?

hold on thoughts have stopped thinking i forgot all the things i was gonna put in here so if i send this like this i’ll probably send the second half when i remember what i was gonna add

also because like having the invasion and fong’s forces while zuko is still captured is gonna be so interesting which we already started to see

and these four months in prison allow for zuko and zi se bonding which obviously in a place like that wouldn’t exactly happen quickly

and it also starts off right after the swt met up with the gaang which means more Angst and Fun Times anyways this was definitely rambly and a bit incoherent but it’s one of the many reasons why i love book 2 and how i already know it’s gonna be so so good bc of the set up and book 1 and just your writing and characters and everything in general

NOT kiran just going and justifying why i did the time skip like that without me even having to explain it. a big thing in taob is me trying to mimic the Big Points of zuko’s redemption arc and making them fit this AU, because i think the show did zuko’s arc really well and i don’t want to miss anything. so all the big episodes for zuko imo have some form of water tribe parallel in taob, and you said it perfectly in that book 2 would just have been a waste of time, because we’ve already seen half of it

[bruh-haikyuu]

A/N: It’s finally my birthday month and I am, once again, filling up the Konoha agenda. Today I offer you Konoha propaganda... Tomorrow? Konoha propaganda.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (Coming Soon!)

ensemble. | konoha akinori

part 2 - poco a poco.

word count: 8618

warnings: MC’s brothers have a heavy... sister-complex; overworking

(n.) little by little

‘Help’ wasn’t an unfamiliar word for you. Helping other people with their homework (to none of their avails), helping your bandmates with lifting the appliances, etcetera, etcetera. Do as much as you can, was what your parents told you as a child, and that was what you did, regardless of who asked.

Therefore, it certainly piqued your interest that Suzuki Ume, captain of the school’s marching band, and the two managers of the Boys’ Volleyball Club had crept their way into the Light Music Club room to ask you for a favor.

“Ooh, a cheering song’s certainly a new genre,” you piped up. “I used to try and convince my club members to switch to another style, but they’re too quick to reject me, y’know? PARANOIA as an idol group wouldn’t be so bad~”

The thought of the ever-stoic Mizushima Reo wearing a frilly idol costume had the Marching Band Club captain stifling a snort. “It would definitely be a sight...”

“I think we can all agree that when it comes to composing music and lyrics, you’re our first choice,” Kaori piped up. “If we can get the message across, then it would be a solid form of motivation for the team—or Bokuto at least, especially with the qualifying tournaments coming up.”

“Plus, Konoha would love it if you made a song for him, no?” Yukie followed, her languid gaze trailing up to your smiling face.

You’d nearly forgotten that Akinori belonged with the Volleyball Club. You were third-years now, both in the last moments of your high school youth. The teachers had started counselling for future prospects, your classmates had started worrying whether or not their current marks would bring them far in life, and as a whole, the third-years have begun to panic. You didn’t mind though—as long as you had your rock-hard conviction and your pragmatic boyfriend, you felt like you could do anything you wanted.

“Ah, I almost forgot that you and Konoha-kun were an item,” Ume said, her eyes twinkling. “So, how’s it? Have you two kissed yet?”

Faking a pout, you crossed your arms in mock offense, “Very scandalous, Umecchi. My virgin lips aren’t ready to be taken away yet, you know...”

“Kidding, kidding~ so, Y/N-san, would you like to do the honors of composing the Fukurodani Volleyball Club anthem for us?”

“No thank you!” you chirped, smiling earnestly.

The faces of your three guests fell.

Seeing their distressed expressions, you laughed, “I was just messing with you~ You guys are too serious. Sure, I’ll make the song. It’ll be fun, right?”

Kaori cleared her throat, reaching into her pocket to hand you a scrap of folded paper. “R-right... Anyway, here’s some ideas we collected to get you started. I’ve also written our numbers at the bottom, if you have any questions.”

“Though something tells me you already have them,” the droopy-eyed manager grinned.

Chuckling, your eyes flitted through the daintily-written notes and doodles scrawled all over the paper, “Yep. These notes are good. I’ll report back to you when I finish my final draft.”

“That’ll be great,” Ume sighed in relief. “But don’t work yourself restless, alright? Mizushima-san told me you’re those types of people who don’t stop until they get it done. We’re all third-years now, so we’ll be happy to lend a hand.”

“Of course,” was the answer you said to them, because it was the right answer. The moral answer. Instead of the more worrying: It’s fine, I might pass out from working too hard, but at least I’ll finish the job.

As the three “left the song in your care”, you escorted them back to the third-year hallways while replaying their entire conversation with you in your head. Oh, they were certainly a curious trio, walking into the lion’s den naked. But from all the curious things they’ve told you, one resounded loudly in your memory.

“Have you two kissed yet?”

Somberly laughing to yourself, you thought that, ah, that might be trouble.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori’s ears were threatening to fall off their places from the two-hour long lecture about the Tokugawa shogunate. Whose grand idea was it anyway to put Japanese History as last period? He was ready to melt into a weary puddle right on the school’s entrance, but you, on the other hand, seemed even more chipper than usual.

“Geez, what’s up with all the extra energy? You’re like Bokuto...” he groaned. “Didn’t you have Modern Literature as your last subject?”

“Yep, but I’m not allowed to get tired now!” you laughed, exuberantly slapping his back to get him out of his slump. “We’ve got no club activities today, right? Let’s go to that new cafe in Shinjuku, just to get your energy back~”

“Mm... parfait would be nice. But why are you so particularly tireless now?”

“Ooh, I’ve got a new job to do,” you said while grinning impishly. “The marching band and the Volleyball Club asked me this morning.”

Smiling sympathetically, Akinori ruffled your hair. A force of habit. “Bokuto didn’t ask you to do anything weird, right?”

You shook your head, as you paused to stop in the middle of the courtyard to look at him properly. “Your managers asked me. Yuki-chan and Kaorin. They want me to make a cheering song for you for the qualifying tournaments.”

“Whoa, seriously?” he exclaimed, exhaustion replaced with that of wonder. “That’s really cool, Y/N-chan! I can’t wait to see what you’re going to write.”

The blonde’s hand fell from the crown of your head to the slope of your shoulder, the comfort from his palm spreading into your chest. Under the light of the afternoon sun, Akinori seemed much warmer in person. You wondered if you could do that thing Ume was pestering you about earlier. Leaning towards him, a million thoughts whizzed in your head, but you paid them no attention, because as soon as your eyes fluttered close—

HONK! HONK!

“Y/N-chaaaan!”

Lips falling flat, your features darkened. “No way... No way. No way. What the hell is he doing here?”

“Y/N-chan! It’s meee! I’ve come to pick you up~” the man waving by the taxi persistently yelled from you at the gates of the school, attracting the whispers and giggles of passing students.

Concern scrawled all over his face, your boyfriend turned to you, “Y/N-chan... W-who is that?”

“It’s that crazy person again...”

“Crazy person?!”

Grabbing his hand, you tried to ignore the shameless calls from the grown taxi driver who was simply too relentless. “Never mind that. Aki-chan, you can run, right? Let’s run right now. Don’t turn back, okay?”

And without warning, you dragged your boyfriend around a sharp corner, your legs pedaling as much as your glutes could handle. Akinori wished you’d stop and explain everything to him, but if you seemed to be so desperate as to avoid this certain taxi driver, then you probably had a good reason for it.

As much as he’d hoped he didn’t, curiosity overtook the boy and he did the one simple thing, you’d pleaded him not to do. Akinori turned back, and was met with a pair of sinister eyes that swam with murderous intent.

“Y/N-chan, he’s chasing us! Why is he chasing us?! And why is he so fast?!” he cried, the impending fear of the incoming taxi driver feeding adrenaline into his legs.

“This guy was a yankii* in high school. An A-grade delinquent. If he’s fast, then we just have to run faster!”

Did things always have to go so unexpectedly with you? Why couldn’t the two of you just sit down and make plans for the day, like a normal couple? Akinori figured you were lacking of “normal”, but to be chased by a former delinquent through a sidewalk was straight up terrifying—he didn’t even get to decide on what sort of will he was going to write!

“Y/N-chaaan! It’s me, Wataru-nii-chan!” your pursuer wailed from behind you. “Don’t you recognize me?! Is it the mullet?”

Wataru-nii-chan?! Konoha repeated in his mind.

Growling, you roared back at the man. “Go home, Aniki*! I can go back on my own, so stop chasing us before someone calls the police!”

Oh god, Akinori definitely didn’t expect his first encounter with one of your three older brothers to be like this. So much for a good first impression... But it was moderately your fault that you tended to avoid the subject whenever it was brought up. The only thing he’d ever recalled from your descriptions of them was that “they’re all annoying” and that they had all moved out from Tokyo to live elsewhere.

“Not until you let me drive you home!” your brother stubbornly shot back.

You were getting tired now. Running around in circles through the school district. If this race was a way to prove that you had graduated from the mere role of the “baby sister”, then so be it.

Though if it had been any other brother of yours chasing you down the streets, you would’ve been luckier. But this was Wataru for god’s sake. The second child. The idiot whose impulse transcended logic in every way possible—and the worst person to challenge to a foot race.

“Fine!” you groaned, nearly stumbling over your feet as your boyfriend pulled you from your fatigue. Hands slipping on the curve of your knees, you glared at your brother from the low angle. “I’ll go home with you this once. Then you’ll stop coming to my school.”

Ruffling your hair, he grinned, “I knew you’ll come through for your big bro.”

“...Whatever, let’s just go,” you muttered, shying away from the older man’s touch. Looking back at your visibly concerned yet confused boyfriend, you gave him a shrug and weakly waved goodbye as you trailed behind Wataru to his taxi.

Damn, that was way too scary, Akinori breathed. His stomach rumbling, he wondered if he still should stop by that cafe you’d talked about earlier. Probably not.

Resting your chin on the sill of the taxi window, you sighed loudly, enough to catch the attention of your brother on the rearview mirror. Wataru smiled brightly, driving you away from the landscape of Fukurodani Academy.

“Was that your boyfriend with you? That ‘Aki-chan’ Mom and Dad keeps talking about?”

“Bingo,” you retorted plainly, hoping that he’d stop trying to make small talk.

“By the way, I heard there’s a new cafe that just opened up in Shinjuku,” Wataru said, the mention somewhat a déjà vu. “You want to stop by and grab some parfaits?”

Frowning at your own reflection on the glass, you grumbled, “It’s fine. I’m not hungry.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

What the hell is this, you cursed.

Like they just coincidentally planned to ruin your day, all three of your older brothers—who had mentioned to you that they were going to spend their break at their workplaces—were sitting jovially at your family dining table, as if none of this was a shock.

“Isn’t it a lovely surprise, Y/N?” your mother beamed, scooping a larger spoonful of rice onto your oldest brother’s bowl. “They didn’t even tell us they were coming to visit!”

Of course not, you scowled. If there was one thing you and your brothers had in common was that it was the annoying habit of doing things unexpectedly and expecting the second party to live with it. You wondered if this was what Akinori had felt the day you approached him.

“Y/N-chan’s gotten so big. I wonder if she can still fit on my lap like she used to,” Kensuke, the oldest, cooed, gazing at you with glassy eyes. “You want to sit on Ken-nii-chan’s lap, Y/N-chan? I’ll feed you too if you’d like~”

“No thank you,” you growled through gritted teeth and broccoli.

The third brother Masao chuckled while ruffling your hair endearingly, “Now, now, Y/N-chan. Of course Kensuke’s going to point out that you’ve grown bigger, he’s a pediatrician after all. If you don’t want to be fed by him, how about Masa-nii-chan, eh?”

Pushing your quarter-empty meal to the center of the table, you turned your face away from the college senior’s nostalgic “beef stew airplane”. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“You usually eat things up like it’s nothing. Are you ill? A rebellious phase?” Kensuke muttered, leaning back on his chair to closely observe your darkening mood. “No, it’s something more... Could it be—is it your boyfriend?”

“Or that band of yours, maybe? I can’t believe you’re still in it, you know you can’t get very far with music, right?” Masao sneered, gulping down his glass of water. “All of your friends remind me a lot of Wataru when he was still a high school hooligan.”

Showing no signs of appreciation for the comment, your second brother winked at you from across the table. “Speaking of your boyfriend, I met him today when I picked you up, didn’t I?”

The mention of your ‘infamous’ boyfriend turned the heads of the entire dinner table—you weren’t so sure why your parents looked so surprised as well, you supposed it was just genetics.

“Really? What was he like? I can definitely tell he’s one of those skinny ones.”

“You bet. I was more curious about his hair though...”

“Is it dyed or is it a natural shade?”

“It was too dark to tell, maybe when I encounter him again, I’ll take a small snip of his hair to show everyone~”

Kensuke, who in your memory didn’t fare well with news of any boy approaching a 1-metre radius of you, darkly smiled behind the shade of his spectacles. He hadn’t said anything in response to Wataru’s report, and that itself terrified you to bits.

“Ooh, you’re still with him, Y/N-chan?” at his sappy call of your name, your stomach tightened. The table fell silent at the mercy of the oldest child. “That’s new. You usually get bored of something or someone after a few months or so... Are you sure it’s not much of a burden for you? You’re a third-year too, after all... You shouldn’t take relationships for granted~”

If Wataru was a knuckleheaded ogre and Masao was a devious fox, then Kensuke was definitely the demon to rule them all. It was in their nature, whether they realized it or not; they always made you seem pathetic so that they could take the chance to dote and care for you like they wished for.

“Dinner was delicious,” you blurted out, standing up from your chair abruptly that the tableware shook and clattered. “I’m going to my room.”

Watching you slam the bedroom door, Kensuke shouted after you, “Ehh... You’re not going to tell us about you and your boyfriend? We’re curious!”

You let your brothers’ voices fade out into white noise as you collapsed face-down onto your bed. You hoped that this visit wasn’t going to last long, otherwise, you’d be pulling out every hair from your head until you went bald.

Unfolding the scrap of notes your three patrons had previously collected for you, a weak smile cracked through your face. Don’t mind them, Y/N-chan, you thought as you got up to place your beloved guitar on your lap. Let’s get to work.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori swore your face was so sour, he tasted lemons in his mouth.

You looked like you didn’t sleep for days. You, who had always brimmed with energy, were quietly cursing your brothers as you ate lunch. Added to your rather beautiful profile, you looked like an phantom waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim.

“So, how was your consultation with Yamanouchi-sensei about your future plans?” he cleared his throat, hoping that he could slowly pick away the frosty wall between you.

You only frowned deeper—so deep that your eyebrows were almost parallel. “Future plans... Do I have to decide everything now? My life is only this wonderful because I don’t plan anything. I could be busking in the streets with Reo, Iori-kun and MugiMugi ten years from now and I’d be perfectly fine.”

Akinori laughed. That ‘plan’ definitely smelled very strongly of you.

“What about you?” you nudged his elbow with the side of your chopsticks. “What do you want to be doing in the future, Aki-chan?”

“Hmm... I’ll definitely go to college—otherwise my mom’s brains will leak out of her ears if I don’t. After that, I’m considering setting up a business on my own, maybe in Meguro where it’s a bit cheaper than Ginza or Roppongi. It’d be nice to be your own boss, don’t you think?”

You smiled weakly and nodded. How annoying. Just as you were liberated from your isolation just a year ago, you felt like you were already seeping back into loneliness once more. Everyone had a plan after high school.

Akinori was going to be an ambitious conglomerate with the number one business in Meguro. Gorilla-faced gentle Reo was finally going to set up that ramen shop he’d been dreaming of. Iori, a rebel to mankind and jaywalking laws, was going to “hell with everything” and enter a prestigious art school. And young Tsumugi... well, whatever a sales operator was, you wished him all the best as a good senpai would do.

And thus, you were stuck again. As the prodigy L/N Y/N who could do everything... but could never decide on anything.

“It’s my brothers’ fault I was so sleepy when I filled in that form. They were disturbing my peace of mind and so I got scolded by Yamanouchi-sensei for it,” you reasoned.

“Is that why you look so tired?”

“No, that’s not it,” you sighed, replacing the lid on your emptied bento. “I spent all night finishing up most of the cheering song’s melody.”

Akinori nearly choked on his strawberry milk. “That much already?! Y/N-chan, the tournament isn’t until a week away! Geez, think about yourself more, won’t you? What would you do if you fell sick and collapsed?”

Getting up to pat away the dust resting on your skirt, you gave your boyfriend a cheeky smile. “Then you’ll just have to take care of me until I get better.”

“Ah... You’ll only ask me to do weird stuff. Why can’t your brother do it? Isn’t he a doctor?”

You curtly gave him an unappreciative pout, masking your obvious mirth. “C’mon~ I’m your girlfriend. You’re going to need a punishment for saying that, Aki-chan. Come now, don’t cover up your sides, I’m going to have to tickle you good—!”

Though you were laughing, you were a mess. More than usual, Akinori thought. It was disturbing enough that his first impression of your older siblings was nightmarish at best, but he wondered if your coping methods could’ve been more... amiable. What would he do if you really fell sick and collapsed? Would your brothers even let him visit especially with their overbearing sense of vigilance?

From your little grumbling, it really did seem like they didn’t like him. Or, really, the concept of him. As much as Akinori appreciated your solace, it would be troublesome if they’d thought he was trying to influence you to despising your family. Some sort of soap opera this is.

At least you were smiling now. He thought. And that was all that mattered in that moment, because he knew things were about to go awry one way or another.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Y/N-san... I think my ears just ascended to second heaven.”

In the expanse of the Marching Band Club room, Suzuki Ume had her hands clasped together, a content expression resting idly on her face. And it really did look like she’d died happy.

“Right~?” you grinned, setting down Lennon-chan next to the blackboard. “The melody really gets you pumped up, doesn’t it? Especially when it’ll be played by all the trumpets and percussions... I think even I’ll start feeling the adrenaline.”

Brandishing the handwritten sheet music in her hands, Ume smiled at you endearingly. “This song is perfect, Y/N-san. And I’m sure your lyrics will only make it better. If I may propose...”

Repeating the word she’d trailed off, you felt an even bigger smile cracking through the slits of your pearly teeth.

“It would be great if you were there to lead the song for us. That is, only if you agree! I’ve already discussed it with the PTA and the principal and they’re all on board with the idea.”

The room grew still, and the captain spoke again.

“I’m sure Konoha-kun will be excited if you were there cheering for him on... maybe you’ll finally get one of those romantic after-game kisses with him~”

Ume never recalled a moment where you ever blushed. But to see Fukurodani’s infamous “alien” genius so flustered—red from head to toe—was a victory no one could ever seldom. Who could blame you? When thoughts of your untouched lips being swept away by your guileful boyfriend in an enclosed space, so close yet so far from prying eyes were buzzing in your head... Geez, now you really wanted a kiss.

“I’ll lead the song for you—b-but not because I want my boyfriend to do... that!” you quickly reasoned, the red on your face turning darker. “Aki-chan gets all sweaty after a game and being kissed in that condition is gross! Public displays of affection are also pervy, aren’t they? R-right?”

Hoho, Ume giggled. So the Iron Maiden is this type of tsundere~

“Umecchi. That amused look on your face, please erase it.”

It took Suzuki Ume her entire fist in her mouth to pacify her approaching laughter. But eventually, she’d jovially apologized for teasing you, alleviating the pout resting on your face. Reviewing her ideas for the lyrics once more, you drew the conclusion that a) you were still going to have to examine the Volleyball Club first-hand for inspiration and b) writing lyrics for a cheering song was going to be harder than you’d expected. You, who had been used to your own hostile verses in PARANOIA’s songs, were going to have to be forced to avoid the usual... “dirty scums” business.

You were beginning to regret taking the offer, but quickly waved away the thought, thinking that you were starting to sound like your boyfriend. Exiting the Marching Band club room, you pondered on a proper time to visit the Volleyball Club for research. They had today off. Tomorrow, maybe? No, Akinori would complain that you were working too hard—

“Ow!” you yelped, rubbing your forehead from the sudden impact from the wall—Wait, you squinted. There was never a wall here.

And when a pair of arms wrapped around you as a constrictor so eager to devour, all answers were revealed. “Y/N-chaaan! It’s so nice to see you! Aaah, Masa-nii-chan was starting to wonder where you were, you know? Kyuu~”

Scuffling against the third brother’s vice-like embrace, you hissed. “Aniki, let go! You’ll damage my guitar! What are you doing here?! Who in hell would let you in?”

Gently setting you down, Masao watched you with a reprimanding look on his face, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“How cruel of you to say, Y/N-chan. I’m only here to check on my alma mater...” he sulked, focus zeroing in on the piece of paper in your hand. “What’s that? Can I see?”

Before you could express your dissent, Masao had already lunged behind you, snatching the paper into his hands. Reaching for the large wall with your dwarfen arms, you let out a shrill wheeze as his eyes started to skim over the paper and his expression dropped to a million feet.

“Give it back, Aniki!”

“You’re still doing this music thing? Geez, did you even listen to what I said during that one dinner?” he scoffed, turning his back to you to further deride your struggle. “‘You won’t get very far with music’. I bet these scrubs aren’t even paying you.”

Taking up all the strength in your legs, you craned against Masao as much as possible and retrieved the sheet with a disapproving crackle. “I’m not capitalistic like you. And yes, I am still doing this ‘music thing’, but no matter how far I’ll go...”

You paused, drinking in the grave look on your brother’s face.

“I’ll always have people to support me, Aniki.”

At the spur of the moment, like your ancestors were trying to curse you for speaking of the devil, a familiar call of your name had the both of you turning your heads. A mop of blonde and a pair of simple dark eyes that did not match the scene that was playing out before him.

What was Akinori doing here? Why would he call for you seeing that this obnoxious adult was here?! Run away, you begged with your gaze, but the fear that rooted your boyfriend was unrelentingly profuse. No! Don’t succumb!

“Ah! Y/N-chan’s brother!” he bowed, an angle so sharp he almost snapped a muscle. “It’s nice to finally meet you... S-sir.”

“Sir?” Masao drawled, the question pumping acid into the atmosphere. “I’m not even that old yet.”

Despite being younger than the first brother he’d encountered, there was no doubt that this one was more terrifying than the last. At least to your boyfriend he was. Masao, more attractive-looking than Wataru, had a carbon copy of your steely gaze. “He’s a fox! A wily fox who’ll get you to assume things without meaning to!” you’d told him a few days prior, annoyance burning in your tone.

As Masao opened his mouth to speak again, Akinori could only gulp. “You’re much taller than I expected. You’re a regular in the volleyball club, right, Aki-chan?”

“R-right,” he responded. God, now he knew why his term of endearment only sounded right when it came from you.

Circling your boyfriend like a famished vulture, Masao studied him from the tips of his hair to the toes of his shoes.  “So stiff~ I would’ve mistaken you for my little sister’s guitar if you weren’t so...” he smiled warmly at the boy, then hissed.

“... Alive.”

Akinori suddenly realized what you meant by him being such a “fox demon”—he supposed you were just trying to remind him of a folk tale that time, you said yourself that whatever you said shouldn’t be taken too much to the heart. Gulping at the imposing brute of the man, your boyfriend made a mental note to listen closely to your fanciful ramblings the next time he wanted to stay “alive”. For good riddance.

Laughing raucously at his expression, Masao slapped his shoulders, worthy of the ossan* at the nearby ramen shop. “I was just messing with you! Geez, you don’t have to take me so seriously~ You’re just like Y/N-chan but less cuter! Damn, exactly the type of guy Kensuke-nii would love and hate at the same time! Hey, tell me, have you two kissed yet? I can tell that my little Y/N-chan would enjoy that kind of stuff. She is the hopeless romantic after all~”

“K-kiss?!”

At the mention of the accursed ‘activity’, you decided that it was time to finally interfere. Fitting yourself in between your paralysed boyfriend and your brother, you spread out your arms in a sign of mock annoyance. Eyes blazing as bright as your face, you begged Masao one last time.

“That’s enough getting to know each other, right, Aniki?” you said, urging him away from the stricken third year. “If you’re really here to look around the school, then you should hurry and go already. I’ll take you to the staircase, come on.”

Casually lounging an arm over your shoulders, your brother bent down towards your ear, “He’s not so bad. I like him.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you’re saying that just to win me over—”

“Geez, would you stop getting all wary with me? I’m not.” Masao muttered. The mischievous glint in his eyes disappeared just as gravity replaced it. “Your Aki-chan seems like a good kid. Not my type, just so you know. But if you care about him that much as to protect the guy from both me and Wataru, then he’s really something, huh? I’m still not in favor of your entire music future ordeal, but if that Konoha guy is your ‘support’, then I’ll rest easy knowing he’s got your back.”

There was another one of those uncomfortable pauses you hated again. Your brothers never lied; it was one of those characteristics that made your family prone to bluntness over everything else. Nevertheless, there was a sense of lightness in your chest after hearing your brother’s approval. You supposed that even if Masao was the slyest sibling known to man, he was indefinitely more tolerable than... Creepy Siscon Kensuke or Stubborn Belittling Wataru.

“Are you going to tell Kensuke and Wataru about this?”

Eyeing your concern, Masao tilted his head. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, nodding at your brother from atop the staircase, “... Masa-nii-chan.”

The face Masao was enough for you to scrunch up in disgust and regret whatever you just said. “H-Haa... Y-you finally called me Masa-nii-chan again... I’m so happy. So, so happy. W-will you give me a hug, Y/N-chan?”

“No way. Calling you that again was embarrassing enough, Aniki.”

“Not Aniki! Call me Masa-nii-chan! Once more!”

Shaking your head petulantly, you laughed at your brother’s woes leaving him to continue with a tour of his alma mater (unaccompanied by the hug he so desired). You returned to your lingering boyfriend with ease in your heart and found him just as stricken as you had left him.

“He’s gone now, you don’t have to look so tense,” you poked at his rigid expression.

“Your other brother he mentioned...” Akinori bit his lip. “Would he really hate me?”

You let out a breath.

“I can’t say he won’t, but Masao also said he’d love you, right? Don’t worry about it,” you grinned, looping your arm around his to drag him through the third year hallways. “When he’s being serious, you can trust that guy with his words.”

“Even the ones about how you’d enjoy being kissed?”

The spring freezing in your step, you stared at your boyfriend incredulously. Dawning on Akinori’s face was a look of absolute triumph and illuminated by the shadows of the midday sun, it was like you were at an impasse. It was near unheard of, that this was the same boy who’d you manhandled last year to get his feelings straight! And now, he was using that subliminal charm of his—the one you’d developed—in addition to that godforsaken attractive smirk to ensnare you.

What’s up with that, you thought. A mix of sheer arousal, fear and pride pooling in your hammering heart. I created a monster.

“... Except for those words,” you gritted, trying to keep your footing steady with the way Akinori was leaning closer to your body.

He chuckled lowly. “Eeh, we haven’t even kissed yet. Do you actually have experience in this sort of thing?”

You turned to the large windows lining the walls, hoping that you’d play off your deepening blush. “Of course not. And don’t say it like you have any either! If I’d dated someone who’s already had their first kiss... that would be weird on my side.”

Ruffling your hair while laughing heartily, Akinori let his eyes trail towards the outline of your face. You were beautiful, that was obvious. But in a private moment just like this, just you and him, you always seemed like you were glowing. Your curious eyes—overflowing with mischief and mysteries that he swore to uncover with time. Your cheeks, warm against his fingers and always dusted with a faint red whenever he was around. And your lips. Untouched, unkissed. A plump pair he’d only dreamed of wrapping his own around.

Tracing the pads of his fingers on the contours of your lips, charting etches of himself upon it, Akinori wondered what it would feel like. To kiss you. Would you truly enjoy it, like your brother had said?

“Aki-chan...?” your voice. So delicate and seductive; his name came out of your mouth like amber honey dripping on his hand. It was funny, to be so in love with you. Even after moments where he’d regretted he hadn’t.

It didn’t occur to him how his face was already gravitating towards you. Maybe you weren’t just an alien, maybe L/N Y/N was an entire extraterrestrial planet with a pulling force of its own.

And Konoha Akinori would be the first man to set foot on it.

“W-Whoa! Sorry ‘bout that! Am I interrupting something private, Taichou*?”

Setting foot, Akinori thought of registering himself into a mental ward for thinking of such an uncharacteristic analogy. Watching you wave giddily at the prowler who just happened to be your bandmate Iori, he sighed. I just got hit by an entire meteoroid.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

You considered buying yourself a good-luck charm from the nearby shrine. The feeling of being overwhelmed... was something you could never get used to. It was rare for you to feel so swamped, taking into account how you prided yourself over being able to get things done at lightning speed. But the song, college entrance exams, your brothers, your band and... that interrupted chance of a kiss. Everything simply took its chance to slip itself into your head all at once.

And it didn’t help at all that Kensuke had found out about your lazily answered Future Plans form that you had stupidly left lying around on your bedroom desk... under that? The lyrics to the cheering song.

“If you’re going to take your future so lightly, then you’re better off not going to that volleyball match,” he’d said to you coolly, a reflection of your seething face bouncing off his glasses. “Is this why you’ve been up all night on your guitar?”

“It was my choice,” you’d told him repeatedly.

“What uncharacteristic choices!” Kensuke had gasped mockingly, crossing his arms. “I’m simply worried about my cute little sister. What if those choices lead you to your doom? Your future, your band... that boyfriend of yours.”

He had paused to ruffle your hair, in which you’d barely managed to duck away from.

“Why don’t you just give all that up and let your big brothers take care of you, okay, Y/N-chan?”

Of course, you had only scoffed in reply and pretended like you didn’t hear him, but you weren’t going to show Kensuke that his words were actually bothering you, were you?

At the current hour, your brothers didn’t matter. As long as you finished the lyrics, everything would be fine. It’ll be fine, you said to yourself. Your long week of juggling through school, visiting the gym for lyrical inspiration, appointments with teachers, your club, clients and boyfriend, all while avoiding your brothers’ nosy interventions had begun. And there was no more back-pedaling on anything.

On the bright side, the marching band was progressing amicably with practicing the melody with you. You decided that Ume, still inquisitive about the passage of your relationship, wasn’t their captain for nothing. Hence, it would only be fair that you also gave your all during your practices—whether or not you finally felt weary in any parts of your body didn’t matter.

And ultimately, the utmost crescendo of the entire week had finally dawned you. You finished. You finished the lyrics! The song! Just about 3 days before the tournament and you had excitedly jotted down the final lines of the cheer. It was flawless in your mind and you comically considered switching over PARANOIA’s theme into something more flamboyant.

Just as a storm had come, the gods had blessed you with a stroke of good fortune. Your week had finally turned around for the better. The rehearsals, the feeling of a pick between your fingers, the swelling intimacy between you and Akinori. Your future even seemed clearer in your head. The tournament was only two days away and you felt like steel. Nothing could stop you. Nothing—

“39 degrees.”

“H-huh...?”

“You’re sick, Y/N-chan,” Kensuke sighed taking a seat on the stool next to your bed, the thermometer between his fingers flashing the two digits you never once fathomed to unite. “Mom and Dad have called your school and told them you won’t be attending class today.”

Nothing, but a 39-degree fever that made your legs buckle every step you took.

“I can’t be sick!” you suddenly cried out, only to be thrown aback by your own string of coughs. You rasped again, your legs weakly reaching out to the floor, looking for your slippers. “T-The tournament is tomorrow and I have to be there to lead the supporters—!”

As your toes kissed the surface of the hardwood, your knees caved away, crumpling and collapsing you forwards into the anticipating embrace of your three brothers. Cringing, you couldn’t help but to melt away into their warmth. You were cold. So, so cold. And all you wanted to do was wither away.

“Oi, oi! Think about your health first,” Wataru scolded, easing you back down against your plush pillows. “39 degrees won’t just go away like that, y’know? Worst-case scenario is that you won’t feel better until Sunday.”

Bundling your blankets over your shivering form, Masao nodded. “Wataru’s right. We’re sorry, Y/N-chan, but I don’t think you can go to the tourney tomorrow with your current condition.”

With a gentle stroke of his fingers on your sweat-slicked hair, Kensuke was already putting you into a trance that made your eyelids go heavy. “It’s cold, isn’t it? You poor, poor thing... It’ll be alright, Y/N-chan. Doctor Ken-nii-chan is going to take proper care of you~”

And those were the least reassuring words you’d ever heard in your life before you yielded to slumber.

“Y-Y/N-chan, are you alright?!” your boyfriend’s voice blared through your phone. It was already evening, and you didn’t catch how many hours you’d been out like a light until you stirred awake to the ringing of your cell phone. “I didn’t see you all day so I asked Tsuyoshi-san and he said you were down with a fever! Should I visit and bring you some food? W-what do you want? Some miso soup or chicken stock?”

“No, it’s fine,” you wheezed out softly. “You don’t have to come.”

“W-why not?” Akinori murmured, the torment in his voice seeping through your speakers. “You said yourself that if you ever collapsed and fell sick, I’ll be there to take care of you, right? I want to take care of you now, even if you make me do weird things. So, please—”

“Akinori.” You sternly hissed. What were you going to tell him? That he couldn’t come because your iron-willed brother slash doctor was guarding your door like a dog? You didn’t even want to know what Kensuke would do to your boyfriend if he came over. “Don’t. Come. I don’t want you to catch my fever. The match is tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“If you love me, don’t visit. Thanks for the concern,” you said flatly and quickly hung up before he could say anything else to pull at your heartstrings. God, you really felt like a loser. Maybe your brothers weren’t so wrong about the ‘weak little sister’ business...

A knock on the door, and the devil had answered to your thoughts. “Hello~? I’m coming in, Y/N-chan. Are you awake? I’ve got your medicine.”

Heat flooding your brain, you were already frustrated enough about the entire ordeal, and your brother’s face was the last thing you wanted to see right now. Turning around to face the wall, you buried yourself into your blankets as the sound of an opening door and a tray being set down filled the room.

“I know you’re awake,” though you couldn’t see him, you were sure Kensuke was grinning playfully behind you. “Turn around so Ken-nii-chan can give you your medicine.”

“I can do it myself, Aniki,” you grumbled from within your cocoon of warmth.

“Not with those shaky hands you’re not,” he said as-a-matter-of-factly. Growling lowly, you shifted beneath the sheets and locked gazes with your smiling brother. Eyeing his every movement as he poured the dark syrup onto a spoon (because who knows what kind of shady things he might put into it!), you rustled.

“Why are you doing this?”

Replacing the cap onto the bottle, the eldest brother’s face broke into a grin. “Because I’m both your brother and a pediatrician. So isn’t it my responsibility to do this sort of stuff? Ah, open wide~”

You quickly enveloped your mouth around the spoon, downing its contents. Your face scrunched repulsively at the artificial tang. Sour. “I suppose it’s your responsibility to make my life a living hell too?”

“That’s a good girl, Y/N-chan. Sorry it’s lemon,” he said, setting down the spoon on your bedside table before turning to you again. “I just want what’s best for you. My little Y/N-chan is different from those other good-for-nothing kids, right? It’s a big world out there and we don’t want you to suffer.”

“Would you stop treating me like a child?” you scowled, hot air spewing out from your nose. “What’s up with you three and doing that? I can function perfectly fine on my own. I’m a third year in high school. It’s so annoying that I could almost hate you. And this is all because you never want to listen to me!”

As the both of you immersed in the deadly silence, you took the time to ogle at your brother’s contorted expression.

Kensuke leaned back on his chair, eyes widened with surprise. “’L-listen’... Y/N-chan, of course we want to listen to you. I-is that not what we’ve been doing the whole time?”

“Listening isn’t the same thing as assuming what I want, Aniki. All you guys do is pile up expectations about the fantasy Y/N living inside your head, and it’s been on my mind the entire week,” you murmured, face growing redder. Though that was just the fever. You were sure of it. “I can’t be the little Y/N-chan I used to be. She’s gone. I’m me now, and the choices I make are the results of my own changes. The choices about what I do, love—”

You took one good, satisfying look at Kensuke’s face, before continuing your sermon. “—and my future. No matter how stupid it looks to you.”

“Oh, Y/N-chan...” he sobbed, striking you dumb top to bottom. Kensuke was crying. Your brother was crying, but what for? Did he catch your fever? God, being sick really did a number on people.

“We didn’t—I didn’t mean to make you feel that way! I was just scared. It was so scary to see you grow up so fast into an adult... then what next? You’ll forget us. You even said you hated me! O-oh God, I’m turning into an overbearing person... I want to commit seppuku*, I’m so sorry...”

Seppuku—Wait, this was your brother you’re talking about here. And with his degree of regret and brashness... he just might do it. How dramatic, you thought, a chuckle threatening to escape your throat.

“Geez, don’t commit seppuku, Aniki,” you sat up on your bed, handing him the pack of tissues next to your pillow. “I said I could almost hate you. But I can’t possibly do that—you’re my brother, right? Even though you three drive me crazy, to fully despise the people who care for you... That’s unfair, isn’t it? Come on, Doctor, don’t cry in front of your patients~”

Blowing his nose loudly into a tissue, he sniffed. “You must really like this guy, huh?”

You made a noise between confusion and shock.

“The old Y/N-chan wouldn’t go so far for anything if it didn’t really interest you... I was worried that he was taking advantage of you or something, to the point where you worked yourself sick. But I couldn’t help but to overhear your phone call from outside and I was relieved that it wasn’t the case.”

You leaned your head on your knees and sighed. “Of course not. Aki-chan is sweet and caring and he knows exactly how to come up with the perfect responses to my weird antics. He used to take advantage of me, and I used to take advantage of him. But that was a long time ago. He made me realize that I didn’t have to understand everything before I felt happy about anything.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Very. Aki-chan, my band, making this song for the tournament... it all makes me happy, and nothing could be better.”

The air was thick, and Kensuke took it as his cue to leave. Giving you one last smile at the doorframe after he’d flicked the lights off, you felt relief dulling your muscles.

“If you get better by tomorrow, I-I’ll try to figure out a way to get you to that gymnasium,” he said. A promise you knew he was bound to keep. “Your boyfriend is a good person, and I’d hate for him to go through such a grueling match without your support.”

“Ken-nii-chan?” God, it was embarrassing for you to say it, but you were thankful that you were clouded with darkness. “Thanks for listening.”

“G-get some rest, Y/N-chan. Good night.” A shut of a door and muffled crying through the walls.

Good night. You said to yourself and the comforts of your empty room.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Has anyone seen Y/N-san?” Suzuke Ume, frantic captain of the Marching Band, scurried through the throngs of students, parents and teachers.

“I don’t think she got on one of the PTA buses either,” Yukie craned her neck upwards to get a better view of the audience. “Did she forget about it?”

“No way! This is Y/N-san we’re talking about. The day she forgets is the day the world collapses in on itself,” Ume gritted. “Gosh, I have to get the marching band ready and everything...”

Down below, on the polished hardwood court, the boys of the Fukurodani Volleyball Club were raving on their own as usual.

“Hey, what’s Suzuki-chan freaking out about? You think everything’s okay?” Komi whispered to the unstirring wing spiker. “Yo, Konoha, you good, man?”

Akinori said nothing. The world seemed so quiet, not even Bokuto’s early-morning racket could shake him out of it. The gymnasium held out like an empty shell to him. Was the world always so silent whenever you weren’t around? What a desolate world he lived in before you.

Lumping a sinewy arm over his shoulder, Bokuto pointed out. “Where’s Y/N-chan? She’s not coming? I heard she was going to lead the crowd.”

“She’s sick,” he finally mouthed, shrugging Bokuto off his back. “She didn’t come to school either yesterday. I’m just worried about her, ‘s all.”

At his words, Komi frantically leapt towards him. “Sick?! The Great Deity is sick? Did you visit her yesterday? How is she?”

“Y/N-chan... didn’t let me visit,” Akinori sighed. “I don’t know if I ticked her off or if she’s finally gotten bored of me... but she told me not to come even if I really really wanted to.”

As the sentence left his mouth, a shrill whistle resounded in the gymnasium, bouncing off the walls in a warning manner. That was that. The tournament you so hoped to attend the entire week, gone in a matter of seconds.

“Waaaait! Sorry I’m late!”

Like seagulls flocking to breadcrumbs, the entirety of the gym turned its head to the northwest entrance. Where a girl donned in a lopsided Fukurodani uniform and a guitar case strapped to her back looked like she just ran a marathon to get here.

Akinori’s face flushed away of its color, but he couldn’t help but to smile. Elegantly poised Ume nearly dropped her baton, and the entire crowd had their jaws scattered all over the floor.

“Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

Coach Yamiji on the sidelines snickered behind his wrinkled hands. This is going to be one interesting cheer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

There was a small corner in the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, hidden to the eyes, where janitors and staff alike sparsely came by. A little close to the bathrooms, but not too bad considering there was a fragrant lavender air freshener nocked there. And at this hour, it was the perfect time for—I don’t know—perhaps a curious couple to bask themselves in an after-game moment?

Cradling your face in his hands, Akinori scrutinized the little features on your skin, his breath heavy with concern. “Are you still sick? You’re a bit warm.”

Pushing his hands away, you tapped his chest lightly. “How romantic, Aki-chan. You drag your girlfriend away to a private space only to interrogate her. I’m fine, you know~”

“Your cheeks are completely red, you can’t fool me.” He returned his hands on your cheeks, squishing them together. You looked like strawberry mochi. Cute.

“T-That’s for an entirely different reason!” you cried out, averting your gaze. Your fingers curled around your quaint chrysanthemum necklace out of instinct. “I’m really fine. My brother, the doctor, drove me here with Wataru’s taxi. And we both know he wouldn’t be the type of person to let me out of the house if I wasn’t well. And guess what? I think my brothers have finally come to accept you~!”

Sighing, he rested his forehead on your shoulder, hiding his face in your neck. “You’re troublesome, L/N Y/N. You’re lucky the cheering song was so good that we won those first few matches by a landslide. Otherwise, I would be fully scolding you right now.”

“Hehehe~ Congrats for the win.” Tilting your head against his, you let out a soft hum. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Aki-chan. What should I do for you to forgive me?”

Raising his neck to level to yours, Akinori propped his temple up against yours and spoke to you in a husky tone that made you feel feverish again.

“No one’s going to interrupt us, right?”

“Eh? I don’t think so, but what’re you doing so close—”

“Good.”

And with a soft clink of your matching necklaces bumping against each other in the vacant halls, Akinori had stolen your breath away like a phantom thief to a tower’s princess.

Warm, was the first thing he thought of at first contact. Maybe it was the residue of your night-long fight against a high fever. He might fall sick soon, but that wasn’t something to think about during a first kiss. The space between you was nearly spectral and Akinori’s beating heart was faint against your chest. It was fast, expectedly so. As his hands drifted to shyly wrap itself around the tendrils of your stray hairs, you sneakily nibbled his lower lip, erupting the bubbles of laughter from his throat.

“You smell like sweat,” you poked at his jersey, your cheeks burning up. “Don’t just do that without giving me a warning first.”

Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, Akinori eyed your slightly parted lips, a dash of his saliva molten upon it, “It’s payback for all the nuisances you’ve caused. So take responsibility, Y/N-chan.”

‘Responsibility’. The word seemed so foreign to you, but perhaps being liable wasn’t going to be such a bad thing—even if you were just freely riding the wave. Letting out a raucous laugh, you threw yourself against Akinori, taking as much responsibility as needed. Twice, thrice, and so on.

Bit by bit, the tailwinds of fate pointed north, and the right path for you never seemed clearer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

yankii - delinquent

aniki - ‘older brother’, but really slang-y (usually seen in pop culture yakuza scenes)

ossan - middle-aged man (an ‘uncle’ of sorts)

taichou - commander/leader

seppuku - japanese ritual of slitting the belly

[hermits-that-craft]

so i came up with a basic story plot on discord if anyone wants to use it (under the cut)

Basically - Fantasy ish au where stress, grian and joe were kidnaped by watchers and there’s a rebellion

have fun, if you want to write it tag me i would forever be in you debt

So, Stress right? She's a princess of sorts, her family rules over a small area and is kind, though their powers are ice and the area is too far north to produce stable crops year round. She's raised with her siblings, and she loves her area with more of her heart then she can ever say. Visitors - friend and foe alike - say that the frozen lands are the kindest and most peaceful areas around.

However, it doesn't stay that way.

Watchers come and ransack her home, kidnapping her and her siblings before anything can be done to stop them. Stress' parents, although not nearly strong enough to fend off watchers, try their hardest to stop the group from taking their children. Nothing comes of their efforts, but the thought is kind and the price is high. Stress won't know what happens to her parents and people for years, but she knows deep down in her heart that there is nothing left of her home.

The watchers train the teens, or they attempt to. Stress was the only one who did not take her leave through unconventional manors. She survived not through perseverance but through stubbornness, and a fear of dying. Her siblings had one or the other, but not both. None of them would bow to the watchers, but Stress played a careful act of pretending that she did.

The watchers, after deciding that Stress had been trained enough, allowed her to share a room with two other people. Those people were two men who had suffered a similar fate as she did. They had survived where others had not, and now they were chosen by the watchers to room together.

The first few months were tough, Stress had no way of knowing if Xelqua or Poet shared her views and it was clear to her that they didnt fully trust her or each other as well. It was only when, in a moment of stupidity or forgetfulness, Stress sang a song that her sisters would sing that the group stared to warm up to each other. They spoke freely as they could, Poet knowing enough magic to block off the watchers control and Xelqua know enough magic to block any noise from their rooms. Stress told them her real name, and she discovered that Poet is a man named Joe Hills, who hails from a small island that doesn't have a proper name, though he calls the town 'Tennessee' and his house  'Nashville'. He was of noble decent and was a powerful wordsmith, so when the watchers came and ransacked his home they took him as well.

Xelqua, she discovered, was a man by the name of Grian. Grian was chaotic, a prankster and a thief who lived in a large city. His family was rich but not noble of character, and the avian took to stealing things from his home and reselling it to gift the money to any poor people he came across. He was taken as a teen as well, and taught by watchers in a similar way to Stress, with some people who were kidnapped from the streets with him. He struggles to call those people 'friends' after Taurtis and Sam, his closest confidants and best friends, betrayed his thoughts to the watchers, and fell for the watchers propaganda. Grian refuses to talk about what the watchers did to him, but Stress can tell from the scars on his back and his clipped wings that it was something that shouldn't be repeated.

The group holds fast to each other, trying desperately to both stay alive and stay themselves in the hellscape that is the watchers home. Stress plays her role well, as the only person who was raised in royal courts she knows how to bow to someone who does not deserve it. Joe and Grian both struggle, their morals overtaking their abilities to keep themselves out of harms way. It is only after the watchers realise that to hit them where is hurts, so to speak, would be to hurt someone they care for that they learn to act.

Stress doesn't lose hopes, though she knows that the world outside is different to how it was, she refuses to lose her hope. When Grian questions her about it, she tells him that its the only way to stay herself in a place like this. Joe only listens, nodding along but not saying anything, though when he is questioned on it he agrees with Stress. He had been with the watchers for less time than Stress and Grian had, having been taken as an adult, but he also lost his entire family to the watchers.

Stress finds herself considering the two men her brothers, her found family that is there for her, and she begins to worry about losing them. She doesn't want to, she finds it so unfair that she should lose another brother, another friend, to the watchers that killed her family, that she withdraws from them. Of course, they notice, and it doesn't do anything except to make them worried for her. Eventually, through either necessity or through accident, Stress tells them about it. The two men understand, telling her that they consider her a sister as well, and Grian jokes about finally having siblings. The group holds onto each other, that night, letting each other talk over how they feel.

News doesn't come to the group often, the watchers trickling news to them as though they are children that needn't hear about the negative things happening in the world. However, news of a rebellion reaches their ears through the whispers and mutterings that echo throughout the keep. They hold fast to the hope of a rebellion, to the idea of freedom. They don't speak of it often, nor do they think on these ideal, but at night they find themselves dreaming of freedom. Stress sings more, Grian offers to show the two around his home city, and Joe tells tales of the vineyard that he grew up in.

While tales of the rebellion spreads, the small group is forced through tests and experiments that give them more powers that they cannot fathom to use. Stress wakes one morning with wings and the ability to control plants. Joe wakes, a week laters, with wings and the ability to see snippets of the future. Grian wakes with the ability to control water and, to an extent, others minds. The group prays for freedom to come soon, to let them leave without the watchers finding them, or hurting their siblings in their absence.

That freedom comes sooner than expected for Joe, who disappears in the night, leaving his siblings behind without a word. It's too dangerous to take them where he was going, so he kisses their foreheads and disappears into the void-like mist surrounding the watcher's home.

The watchers never mention Joe again, not even blinking when he doesn't appear at the breakfast. They don't bring up 'poet' or hold Stress or Grian accountable for his sudden flight from their cell. Stress and Grian can't, don't, won't try to understand why the watchers dont ask them anything, as the only answer that the pair can come up with is that Joe is now one of the people they lost, part of a seemingly ever-growing number of dead.

Stress stops dreaming of freedom, letting herself harden under the pressure of the watchers. She will not become one of their weapons, nor will she become one of their diamonds, but she cannot let herself sleep while Grian could disappear. Grian stops asking her about tales of her home, and Stress stops singing. Tales of rebellions no longer fall into their ears.

The tests all but stop, and Stress finds herself falling into a dreamless sleep the second she makes it to her bed. She doesn't lose hope, but she doesn't gain any. There is seemingly nothing that can calm her until her head hits her pillow.

It's during one of these sleeps when Grian leaves, a note tucked under her pillow telling her that he'll be back, that he loves her, and that the rebellion is still around.

Stress cries when she reads the letter, holding it close to her before burning it. Once more, the watchers don't mention her brother, and Stress is alone again, dreaming of a freedom that she can't believe will happen for her, of a rebellion she refuses to believe will come for her. Stress can't fall into work, can't do anything as the tests stop happening and she is confined to the room that she was trapped in, food delivered to her by the watchers. Stress draws, grows plants and summons ice that she sculpts into her siblings, biological or otherwise. She lives like that, her life in limbo as she waits for the watchers to decide what to do with her. Whatever the answer is, she will walk towards it with her head high. She doesn't fear death anymore, though she doesn't want to die. She does, however, fear what will become of her if the watchers decide she isn't worth their resources.

One day, news of the rebellion reaches her ears. It's from one of the watchers who brings her food, the one that wears black headphones with blue and red checkers on them, not the cruel one with the rabbit ears. He tells her, an unsettling smile on his face, that "all of the watchers here are leaving to finally squash the rebellion. you'll be safe, once we're back we'll ba able to make you a full watcher as well. congratulations, you're the the only one of your class to succeed!". Stress  cries at those words, and the watcher takes them as happy tears instead of the mournful tears that they actually are.

The watchers leave that night, the rabbit eared watcher providing her with three days food an instructions only to leave her rooms if the food runs out. She doesn't believe that the food will run out, but she thanks him anyways. She needs to make a plan to escape before that watchers come back.

The next day, the watcher's building is silent, save for the few rooms that Stress occupies. She sings for the first time in months, perhaps in years, in the empty castle. Any song is worth singing, as it fills the time and the unsettling silence. She sings songs from her home, tunes Grian taught her that the street performers would sing in his city, and ballads that Joe wrote for his home before he was abducted. Her plants flourish as she sings, and her sculptures almost appear to move. 

The only thing thats stops her songs and revelry is an explosion, close by the wing of the castle in which she is imprisoned. Footsteps, loud, heavy and armoured, echo down the halls as people run through the castle. Stress falls silent, fear eating at her brain as she tries desperately to hide in a place that neither the watchers, nor any intruders, could find her. Joe had once shown her a small corner in which the stones were loose enough for her to wriggle her way into the wall, and Stress flees into the hiding place, praying that no one will look for her.

The footsteps stop in front of her door and voices echo indecipherably through the hall. Stress can't properly understand what they were saying, but she doesn't have to wait to find out as the door is thrown open, falling to the ground with a loud clang. Stress spies through the crack in the stone as people enter the room, their backs towards her.

There are five people in total, two women and three men. One of the women has blonde hair tied into a long plait down her back, brown pants and a green jacket on. A leather strap goes around her head and Stress assumes its goggles. The other woman is a zombie with green patchwork skin and flame like orange hair, wearing shorts and a blueish jumper than falls off her shoulders. One of the men wears armour thats green, the only thing that Stress can properly decipher from him is that his helmet glows from the front. A different man IS green, with a metal arm and leg and a lab coat over his chest. The final man wears a bright green jumper with a brown vest, and jeans on. The group talks amongst themselves, looking through the room for something thats Stress can't decipher. The man in the armour turns around, and Stress can properly see his eyes through the blue visor. They appear to be purple, marking him as a powerful void walker. Stress holds her breath, praying that he can't see her as the man brings his wrist up to his face. 

"We can't find her, can you come here and look for her yourself?"

Stress feels tears in her eyes as the man speaks into his communicator. The two women sit down on the seat that Stress and her brothers would sit on, and Stress can see how the women look. The group, for people breaking into a watcher building, a watcher castle at that, appears remarkably calm, the two women joking around and laughing as footsteps echo through the halls. The green man, along with the the man in the green jumper, lean on the wall, talking to each other as though they had met on the streets and wished to catch up. Stress finds herself longing for that sort of interaction, though she knows that these people could be naught but dangerous to her even if they weren't hunting her.

The footsteps make their way into the building, two people in cloaks entering the room. The cloaks are drawn up, making them indecipherable to Stress, though she knows that they aren't watchers as one of the cloaks is a vibrant red, with the other one being a bright blue. The person in the blue cloak walks to the man in the green armour, as the one in the red finds their way to the two men leaning against the wall. The person in the blue cloak turns around, removing his cloak hood as he looks at Stress, and the woman in the wall chokes out a sob, startling the people in the room.

Joe is alive.

Joe helps Stress out of the wall and she throws herself into a hug with the man, wrapping her wings around the man. The group looks shocked at the pair, and Joe mumbles to her that he's refused hugs from them even after Grian found them. Grian joins the hug as well, the siblings finally reunited. Joe tells her about the rebellion, and how they are fighting to take down the watchers as they make their way to the ship that Xisuma, the man in the green armour, runs. Stress asks where she can join the rebellion. Xisuma laughs and tells her that she already has. 

Stress, one day, asks the hermits if she could find out what happened to her home. Joe and Grian both exchange worried looks, though the hermits all agree to go to her the Frozen Lands to see her home, taking Grian and Joe's silences as agreement. Joe didn't tell the hermits that his visited Nashville before he joined them, though he spoke to Grian and Stress of the devastation that was left on his home, how the only thing left of the house his family lived in was the flooring, burnt and bloodied and faded with age. Grian has also confined in Stress and Joe that Evo, the city in which he lived in, wasn't the same when he returned, the people either close to kneeling over due to starvation or unnaturally healthy, glowing in a way that didn't seem normal nor natural. Stress doesn't care for their concern about her home, false hope screaming at her that her cousins or other family members would be there, ruling over the town and lands.

When the hermits arrive, Stress rushes a head of them, ignoring the concern and fear that falls from the groups mouths. But instead of running into the loving embrace of her families arms, Stress arrives to a wasteland covered in ice and ash. Stress bolts down the streets she played in as a child, sliding on ice as she makes her way to the manor that she grew up in.

Instead of the familiar structure that she expected, nothing stands except the door the main entrance. Her families crest, a simple snowflake, that was carved into the spruce wood doors is burnt into the crest of the watchers, a clear message to anyone who found their way to the manor.

Stress collapses at the door, wailing at not only the loss of her family but at the loss of her home.

The hermits find her their, her wailing subsiding into sobs as her new brothers help her to her feet, helping her to make her way to the ship that she had been living in. Nothing feels real, not for a long time for Stress, her hope waning as she realises what had happened to her family. Stress finds herself helping Joe in the medical bay of the ship, her healing magic far more potent than his was, and Stress finds herself enjoying the work. She makes fast friends out of Cleo, False and Iskall as the three of them visit her often, either with injuries or with anecdotes. For most of the hermits, what had happened to Stress' home was something they had only heard of in the stories of refugees, as only Etho, Wels, Grian, Joe and Xisuma truely understood what had happened to her home. 

The hermits, the rebels, knew that they had to free more people, and Stress often accompanied Xisuma and Wels on their more diplomatic missions, her title of Princess aiding them as they gather allies. Wels also teaches her how to fight, and jokingly suggests that she should knight him as the knight for her kingdom, as his kingdom is ruled by a tyrant that wants nothing more than to watch her people suffer. Stress does knight him, giving him the status that he needs to get them respect of other knights as the champion of the Frozen Lands.

The next few years are spent in careful planning, Stress, Wels and Xisuma being the kindhearted faces of the rebellion as Cleo, False, Grian and Joe being the hard hitting fighters who invade watcher buildings and burn them down, as Iskall, Cub and Scar gather information about watchers through means that Stress doesn't know and doesn't care to find out.

One day, at a party that Stress, Xisuma and Wels were invited to, and that Grian, Joe and False had tagged along to the two watchers that fed Stress appear, not only looking for a fight but for victims to bring back to the watchers.

Stress didn't feel anything at the sight of the watchers, simply stating that they had been the ones to feed her, though Grian's eyes flashed purple as he laid eyes on them. Of course, the group fought the watchers, Stress helping the people to evacuate the building before she joined the fray.Grian fought harder than anyone else did, throwing himself into the fray when he shouldn't have. The rabbit watcher taunted him, and the one that wore the headphones laughed as Grian struggled to fight them, not letting anyone get close to them. The rabbit eared watcher threw a spear through Grian's wing, grounding the man. Grian doesn't saying anything as the rest of the hermits join the fight, Stress focussing on healing his wing.

"Why would you fight them alone, you dumbass." She asked him, tears in her eyes. "Thats Sam and Taurtis." The second the reply hit her ears, Stress stands, her wings flapping. She holds the spear in her hands as she flies up, summoning ice and vines to the room. Joe helps the hermits to a corner of the room as Stress traps the two traitors in vines and ice. "What do you want me to do with them, Grian?" Stress asks, and the man shrugs, a dark look in his eyes. "They're watchers, they've already sealed their fates."

Stress doesn't remember what happened next, though according to False and Wels it was 'the most badass' thing that they had ever seen. According to Xisuma, however, it was a safety hazard. Stress doesn't really care, though she's prefer that the next time she grow plants in peoples lungs and explodes their veins with ice she wouldn't wake up in the blood and ice of her victims.

The group becomes folk heroes in that kingdom, and they soon find themselves becoming better known in other lands as well as they defeat more and more watchers, before the only ones left are the ones that kidnapped Stress, Grian and Joe.

It took a while to find the last watchers. There was so few left of them that no one, not even Iskall, Scar and Cub could find information on the group, and while Stress, Joe and Grian were being heralded as heroes who defied the odds and survived the watchers, they couldn't rest. Stress would often find Grian planning intricate traps with Mumbo and Iskall, and she'd always have to make sure that Joe wasn't wordsmithing disaster onto their course. Of course, everyone would find Stress fussing over any injured people, to the point where it was obvious that she was too nervous for her own good. It was during one of these sessions with Cleo where the zombie worked out - or perhaps told the ex watcher - exactly what Stress what thinking.

"You hate them." Cleo smiles. "I want them locked up, where they can never hurt anyone ever again." Stress spits, trying to calm herself down. "You want them dead, don't you?" "I never said that!" Stress protests, though in her heart she knows it's true. "Don't worry, I think that they deserve it."

It took Stress a while to convince herself that she wasn't evil for wanting that. Or more so, it took False, Iskall, Grian, Cleo, Wels, Joe and Xisuma a while to convince Stress she wasn't evil for wishing death onto the watchers. But she was never fully convinced, and just when the hermits believed that she had finally believed them, Stress vanished into the night just as Joe and Grian had left her, a note being the only thing she left behind.

She knows where the watchers are, she knows exactly where she needs to go to finish this, and she knows that she cannot loose anymore people to the watchers, to that building, the one that the watchers had first held her and her siblings in. The one hidden in the frozen wastes beyond her home town. It's a long fight, one that she battles alone until she's near dead, captured by watchers once more. When all seems lost, her brothers appear, tearing down the doors and saving her before the watcher can deliver the final blow. Grian tore into the watchers as Joe heals her, and Stress spies the hermits from the corner of her eyes. The hermits battle as Stress struggles to breath, the curse that was placed on her slowly eating away at her energy. Tears prick at her eyes, too tired to even fall out of her eyes. She watches, almost as though she isn't in her body, as False and Cleo deliver the final blow, killing the watcher with a well placed spear to the throat. Energy floods back into Stress as she bolts up, the curse dying with the watcher that placed it.

There are celebrations throughout the world as the hermits make their way across, telling everyone of the good news. Stress, Grian and Joe are shown some of the survivors of their homes, and Stress makes her first speech as queen declaring that the island 'Tennessee' and the city 'Evo' are now states of the Frozen Lands. Soon, the lands that the other hermits were from join the Frozen lands, and Stress makes more announcements welcoming places into her ever growing country. The world changes as people make their way to the Frozen Lands, hoping for the home that is boasted about.

Stress' last declaration as queen of the frozen lands is stunning, a hope filled promise of home.

"I do not claim to know that the future holds, nor do I promise that it will be good, but today I speak to you all, not as a queen, but as a friend. The Frozen Lands is no more. Today, we join the Hermit States. You will chose your leader, not born of blood but of your decisions."

It was not a surprise to anyone but Stress when she was voted in as Empress, with Scar as her second in command. Joe finds home in books of poetry and song, and Grian finds life in regrowing his home into a better place.

Stress finds a family in the hermits, and the hermits find hope in Stress

[emberbent]

Book 3: Water | Chapter 2: Justified

While Tenok prepared for his sabbatical at the university, Amrit made use of the free time they had before Shinza started training to set a meeting with the chief of the Northern Water Tribe. It was late morning, and he found her sitting cross-legged on her bed, meditating. He was just about to quietly back away when she opened her eyes. “I’m ready when you are.” 

She met him at the full-length mirror and straightened out the fabric of the blue tunic she’d found waiting for her in her closet. The clothing itself wasn’t overly formal - just Northern, fashion-forward everyday wear - but Shinza seemed giddy nonetheless to be wearing it. Besides, the clothes she’d brought from home were far too casual, and she didn’t yet have a set of fancy Avatar meeting clothes like Amrit did.

“Actually, I have something for you before we go.” He handed her an object wrapped in fine red silk. Gingerly, she unwrapped the cloth and uttered a little sound as she lifted the flame-shaped headpiece. He went on, “The Fire Sages brought it to me on the Island. It’s --”

“Roku’s headpiece,” she murmured. She traced her finger along the gilded swirl that made up one of the flames. As she did, Roku’s memories came over her: accepting the artifact as a gift from Prince Sozin; sliding the pin through his topknot before his marriage ceremony; setting it on his bedside table on the last night he was alive. The piece was poignantly familiar, and seeing it again was bittersweet. She asked Amrit, “Why now?”

“I’ve been saving it for your first meeting with a world leader. Can I?”

“Please.” She bent a little so he could fit the piece around her topknot and slide the pin through. She turned to look at herself in the mirror, carefully adjusting the flames and straightening her posture. “How do I look?”

“Official,” he replied fondly. “Ready?”

_____

Once they arrived at the palace, six guards melted the icy fortress gate and allowed them passage. As they watched the impressive volume of ice rapidly melt into the mote below, Shinza elbowed Amrit.

“This had better not be as awkward as our last meeting,” she intoned.

Amrit scoffed and elbowed her back. “That was a one-time thing, okay? Get off me.”

A palace official received them and led them across the vast, snowy courtyard, where the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe waited for them. 

“Chief Yinnak,” the official bowed. Shinza and Amrit followed suit. “Please meet our Avatar, Shinza Kwon of Republic City, and her advisor, Amrit Han of the Island of the Sun Warriors.”

“It’s my pleasure to meet you both,” welcomed the chief, a pleasant and round-faced adolescent with jubilant eyes the color of the sea at high tide. “Please call me Yinnak. I hope you’re hungry - my staff has prepared a lunch for us.”

The two of them followed the chief as they led them through the atrium, pristine as crystal with carved ice statues of the animal spirits that kept watch over the tribe. Having an affinity for the culture, Shinza liked to thumb through her old university textbooks just to look at the pictures. She knew she’d never be able to afford coming here on her artist’s salary, and she’d been content just to get takeout from Narook’s in the city’s Little Water Tribe. Being here, taking in the sharp, chilly air and the deep spiritual energy that permeated the palace, Shinza felt as if she were floating through a dream.

“Have a seat,” invited Yinnak, who took their place at the head of the table. Amrit and Shinza sat opposite each other; Amrit tried his best to look hungry, while Shinza’s eyes were as big as saucers.

“Go on, help yourself,” Yinnak grinned, gesturing to the spread of food between them. Amrit filled his bowl with a modest helping of arctic hen. Shinza, on the other hand, piled some of everything on the table into hers, going extra heavy on the tentacle soup and blubbered seal jerky.

“It’s so nice to see a foreigner eat our food with such enthusiasm,” the chief larked as they joined Shinza in tucking in. “We would have prepared a proper feast for your arrival, but I understand the need to stay low-key during these times.”

“Deeply appreciated.” Amrit spoke for Shinza, whose mouth was full. 

Yinnak studied Shinza politely, as if trying to find physical evidence of her status. “You know, I’d always hoped I’d get to meet the Avatar during my lifetime. I wasn’t certain I would.”

Shinza’s cheeks flushed. “Unfortunately, I was unaware of my status for a long time.”

“Oh, no!” Yinnak dispelled the thought with a flourish of their hand. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were late. Just that it’s an honor to be in your presence. We in the North hold the Avatar in great esteem, especially after what Korra did for us.”

Shinza softened. “That’s kind of you.”

“Chief Yinnak, if I may,” Amrit started. “I hate to get right down to business, but I feel it’s important to discuss The Organization.”

Yinnak sobered. “Okay. What about them?”

“Well,” Amrit rested his chopsticks. “As you may already know, they’ve established a strong base in Republic City. There’s violent protesting in the streets, propaganda’s spreading like wildfire. And now, it seems they’re expanding their reach to the northern Earth Kingdom.”

Yinnak nodded in understanding. “Mr. Han, allow me to put your mind at ease. You have nothing to worry about while you’re here - the Organization has no presence in the Northern Water Tribe.”

Amrit glanced at Shinza, whose expression was unreadable. They finished their meal with tea and kale cookies. Afterward, the chief invited them to the Spirit Oasis.

Shinza thrilled quietly, biting back a grin as they followed the chief through the atrium and into the heart of the palace. Yinnak pried the wooden door open and ushered them through. The humid, heavy air settled quickly on them, and while Amrit and Yinnak removed their coats, Shinza was overcome with the density of the spiritual energy. She put her hands out in front of her and closed her eyes, feeling as if she could see the energy wisping across her skin like vapor and growing thicker toward the little island in the center of the chamber.

“The Spirit Oasis is a sacred place to us,” Yinnak explained. “As you can probably sense, this is a place where the physical and spiritual worlds overlap.”

Shinza noticed the offerings of food left out near the wooden gate. She closed her eyes again, and in her mind’s eye, she saw herself in a past life crossing the bridge, year after year, diving into the sacred pond and searching for her lost love. And then she saw herself sitting beneath the wooden gate, deep in meditation, and merging with the Ocean spirit to demolish the Fire Nation’s infiltrating forces.

“Anyway, Avatar, I want you to know you’re welcome to visit the oasis anytime.”

“Thank you,” Shinza replied, turning to the chief and bowing. “For you hospitality, and for everything.”

Yinnak inclined their head. “Unfortunately, I have a string of meetings this afternoon. Please, stay as long as you like. My official will see you out when you’re finished.”

_____

Back at Tenok’s house, the two had scarcely walked through the front door when Amrit suggested a spar. Shinza could think of a handful of reasons not to - they were still full from lunch, she needed to rest up for her first waterbending lesson in the morning, they’d gotten up early that day and could use a little down time. But deep down, even if he wouldn’t admit it, she could tell he was offended that she didn’t prefer his element - her native element. Each time she avoided firebending or disparaged his harsh training, she felt a pang watching the corner of his mouth turn downward in disappointment. She knew he understood why she felt that way, but it hurt him all the same. Fire, she supposed he felt, was something they had in common. Through firebending, he felt close to her.

She agreed, went to go change, and met him in the courtyard. They faced each other, took their stances.

“Rules?” she inquired.

“The usual,” he announced, and then drew a whip of flames down on her. She barely rolled out of the way in time; her mind suddenly alert and sharp, she quickly calculated, dropped down to the ground, and swung her leg over the snow, catching his ankle. He lost his balance and swayed, but recovered in time to block her fire-daggers. Flowing from offense to recovery to defense and back again, they danced together. Finally, both of them thought to make the same move, kicking high with their left legs and catching each other at the calves, flames blazing skyward from the soles of their feet. The hot metal of The Leg burned through her leggings, but she didn’t move - just stared him down, daring him to try her. He grinned slyly as he realized she was nearly as good as he was now - or at least she had learned how to predict his moves. They would only continue to stalemate each other this way; he knew he’d have to break the rules. He bent his knee and captured her, using all the force of his own body to death-roll her onto the ground. Stunned, she softened her fall with a timely puff of air from her fingertips, but landed flat on her stomach nonetheless. He took the opening to pin her down with his knee to her spine.

He opened his mouth to say something snarky, but he suddenly found himself being launched away from her, floundering on his back with the breath knocked out of his lungs.

Out of nowhere, the wind picked up and howled like a train. Around her, snow and ice began to fly like razors. Her eyes glowed white, and the energy of thousands of Avatars past crackled along her skin. She pinned him to the ground. 

“Sh...Shinza,” he choked, petrified and feeling the weight of his mortality pressing down on him. Her fist was cocked back, flame pointing directly at his face, singeing his eyebrows . “Stop. Please.”

For a moment, she didn’t seem to hear him, and didn’t move. And then, very slowly, the glow in her eyes dimmed. The wind died down, and the snow fell around them silently. She grimaced in concentration, tamping down the Avatar State with great effort. The flame went out of her fist.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, looking pale, mortified, exhausted. Her hand, still hot, wicked melted frost and sweat from his brow. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

He stared up into her face in shock, hands still gripping her waist in a futile attempt to throw her off him. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Then, he laughed the laugh of a man who’d just cheated death.

Fraught and confused, she puffed herself off of him while he cackled on the ground. “I don’t think you are. I almost fucking killed you.”

“But you didn’t,” he wept with laughter. 

“Because I got lucky!” she argued. “I can’t control the Avatar State yet!” She stuck her hand out to help him up.

“Clearly,” he replied, catching his breath, his eyes alight with passion. “But I see that drive in you. That right there? That is what I’ve been trying to coax out of you all this time.”

Her expression slid off her face. “That drive killed two people in Gaoling.”

“You don’t think being able to incapacitate a threat permanently is a good thing?” 

She pondered that. “That’s not what I’m saying. I know it’s a good thing - a vitally important thing. But if I can’t control myself…”

He conceded.

She wished he’d put his hands on her again.

“You know, we never talked about what happened,” he noted after a beat. “I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you do, you know I’m here --”

“I enjoyed it,” Shinza confessed.

Amrit froze. “You…?”

“I…” she started. Her voice cracked. “Blinded one of them. I snapped the other one’s arms. And when Xia came to my rescue, she torched them to ashes. They got what they deserved, and if I could do it over again, I wouldn’t change anything.”

He stared at her.

“After it happened, it played over and over in my head. I wanted to feel bad - I felt like I should have. Especially as a guest of the temple. But what I felt instead was…” She squeezed her hands together into fists in front of her. “Freedom. Power. After I did that, I knew I could take care of myself. I knew I could keep the cycle going.”

“So what are you saying?” he whispered.

“If The Organization’s violence is justified, then so is mine,” she said. “I don’t want to have to play their game, but I will.”

She realized that made her no better than The Org. And that if she wasn’t careful, she’d make martyrs of them all. But she had to be open to all options, at all costs. 

Amrit couldn’t imagine bearing the weight of every decision, big and small, being responsible for every possible outcome. He planted his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, deep red like dying embers. 

“Hey,” he commanded her attention. “I’m not judging you.”

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” Her lip quivered. She smoothed her hands over his forearms. “Not on purpose.”

“If you did, I’d forgive you.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m with you, okay? No matter what.”

_____

“I believe you have a status report for me?” The general steepled his fingers expectantly, swiveling in his chair.

The captain cleared her throat, loath to deliver the bad news. “We’ve lost track of her, sir.”

He stared her down expressionlessly. “Then find her again.”

“We’re working on it, sir,” she replied. “A source claims she might have fled back to the Eastern Air Temple after she killed Nobu and the Dai Li agent. We sent an infiltrator in disguise to the temple, but she reports the Avatar’s not there. I have my team looking into where she might have gone.”

“We can’t have this,” he said quietly, more to himself than to his captain. He took a moment to think, inhaling a calming breath and letting it out slowly. “If she so easily overtook the two of them, she must be further along in her training than we thought. Which means she might have finished with airbending and moved on.”

The general didn’t need to outline the implications of this to the captain. The ambush in Gaoling had been their one shot, and they’d failed because they’d underestimated the Avatar’s abilities. Now, every moment that passed, she grew stronger, and their chances of stopping the cycle forever grew narrower.

“Establish a presence in the North,” ordered the general. “Look for her there. Stay in disguise, and keep your eye on the papers. Someone may report having seen or met her.”

“Yes, General. What are your orders if we -- when we find her?”

“You are to do nothing,” he instructed. “We must play this very carefully. The Avatar is highly favored in the North - if she dies on their ground, they’ll make her a martyr. When you find her, you are to notify me immediately. Do not lose track of her again.”

“Yes, General.”

@chromecutie @my-remedy-is-euphoria @jaymzbush @hetapeep41

[silyabeeodess]

“Love, hope, compassion...This is what people say monster SOULs are made of. But the absolute nature of “SOUL” is unknown. After all, humans have proven their SOULs don’t need these things to exist.” 

Ever since I played UNDERTALE, this one line has probably stood out to me the most, simply because it covers an issue most of the fandom seems to overlook.  In response to the gameplay and its story, we tend to label monsters as good and humans as bad.  We follow the story that we’re told: There was a war, humans won and trapped monsters in the Underground, Asriel was killed by humans, and seven human SOULS are needed to escape.  We view the Player or Chara--depending on your view--as an ultimate evil for killing monsters through the various resets.  However, what I rarely see discussed--beyond Asgore’s order to kill children from a small portion of people--is the monsters’ state of morality. 

We hear it all the time and see it in this very line: “Monsters are made of compassion.”  It seems to be treated as a statement of fact, but I see it as propaganda.  By saying monsters are made of love and compassion, but that humans “don’t need these things to exist,” that’s placing humans as a whole as an “other,” enforcing their position as “the enemy.” And somehow... this never gets called out.

We can see why a monster would say this because of the war, Barrier, and Chara’s and Asriel’s deaths.  However, how would that excuse their own calls for genocide?  I won’t go into depth about Asgore here since he does show regret/reluctance for his call to slaughter humanity and we as an audience can interpret that--while his actions may not be in the right--we understand it was done in a moment of grief and pure rage.  You know who doesn’t get an excuse like that?  Monsters like Bratty and Catty, who cheer with a smile about how they’re “so hyped for the destruction of humanity” up until they actually realize what a human is from meeting you. In fact, most of the monsters can’t seem to recognize you as a human, from them to those retelling Asriel’s story and claiming “you’ll be free” with the rest of them while, in truth, you--as Frisk--are potentially walking to your death.  

Now, you might argue, “Well, they suffered as a kingdom because of the war and from losing their future rulers.  And if some of them don’t know what a human is, then it can be easy for them to label an unknown as an ultimate evil based on limited knowledge.”  Ok then... so why are some of them cruel to each other?  Would someone you’d describe as “compassionate” do the following:

Bully others, such as Loox, Loox’s own targets, and Gryftrot. 

Allow Papyrus to feel isolated and self-conscious despite his obvious attempts to fit in and make friends, all while befriending Sans--someone who does everything possible to make his brother feel loved and accepted, and makes a point to encourage others to give him a chance--in mass.

Act “rude and loud” and “beat up everybody who gets in their way” (Undyne, according to the Red Bird NPC... who she also says the kids look up for just those reasons.  I don’t entirely believe her, because of our own interactions with Undyne showing that she’s pretty cool beyond her disdain for humanity, just a little on the pushy side; however, she also attacked Asgore as a child just to prove herself and even described herself as a “hotheaded kid,” so I won’t entirely dismiss this comment either.)

Undyne is also known to fight “bad guys,” according to Monster Kid, and since MK didn’t even know Frisk was a human at first and insisted they watch her go fight them anyway, that hints that, yes, there are bad monsters that need some force to stop: This is not a strictly peaceful society.

Try to take your soul just to go to the Surface himself (Mettaton) for the sake of being a star--delaying a second war, but also leaving everyone in the entire Underground to suffer even longer because the Barrier wouldn’t get destroyed. (Nevermind that he’d have every opportunity to speak out against the war if that was one of his main reasons because of his monopoly on the Underground’s entertainment and his massive influence.)    

Don’t get me wrong: I love all of these characters.  They’re well-written and the fact we can recognize their flaws and still care for them is perfect.  It also is a great fit to the game’s message!  I just wish it went both ways.

Do me a favor and also think of things from Frisk’s perfective--as a character, not you as the Player enjoying the game.  You’re trapped in this place where not only is just about everyone trying to kill you, but they actually succeed!  Repeatedly!  You are forced to experience death in a multitude of ways “over, and over, and over!”  And you’re a child!  Most people would break under that kind of severe physical and mental torture--but sure, let’s give characters like Sans a pass when they threaten you, even if you’ve only even done one route as a Pacifist, all while criticizing Frisk/Chara for their actions.  The power to RESET may be insanely strong---it gives them a second chance at life--but it’s also a curse when they get to repeat that pain.  

And for my last point... If most all humans were really so viscous, don’t you think it would’ve been more effective to slaughter monsterkind when they were all pinned in one place, making it as easy as shooting fish in a barrel?  Or, in the very least, demanding they hand over their strongest for execution so that the rest could live even if in confinement? Wars don’t “suddenly happen without warning” as the echo flowers painted the initial human attack as, especially not when two groups have lived together for any length of time as we’re led to believe from the story.  What sparks the war may seem sudden, but there’s often a build-up of tension behind it. For a irl comparison, take WWI: The assassination of Archduke Ferdinand is commonly seen as the spark, but it was also the alliances and rivalries between different nations that had been brewing for years which rallied everyone into such a huge conflict. Humans were already afraid of monsters for the ability to take souls and for equally murderous intent (as evidenced when they assumed Asriel had killed Chara).  It’s not like that power was a rumor made to spread fear: Monsters confess to it themselves in their history.  Therefore, we can conclude that, in all likelihood, some monsters did this well before the war even began--helping establish a conflict between their two kinds well before the war.   

Sure, I have no doubt that there are awful humans in the world of UNDERTALE.  I would never argue against that!  Monsters, however... aren’t all exactly the “compassionate” beings some of them would like to paint themselves as.      

[inncarnate]

who r maisie and stu!!!!!!!!

first off ily so dearly.

maisie and stu are two npcs from the monster of the week campaign I've been running for about a year now! since they're npcs they don't have playbooks/character sheets (they're not a specific "class"), which might not be the norm for all motw keepers playing npcs but I like making life easy for myself so ✌🏽

for background, the campaign is set in the fictional town of ruin, california, which is a crossing of ley lines with a very longstanding and large nonhuman, presumed fey-or-descended-from-fey population. there's a federally sponsored black-ops organization called the Order that spreads anti-fey propaganda and casually commits war crimes against innocent fey citizens under the guise of Protecting people. u know the drill.

maisie is the motw equivalent of a water genasi, with elemental fey ancestry. she is a healer in that if you're bleeding she knows how to help, but she's a warrior first and foremost. she's got a kickass trident with runes carved into it, about a satchel with million different pockets with absolutely useless things in them ("hold on I thought this was the one with the bandaids but there's just a handful of dirt in here"). one of her earliest memories is of her parents sacrificing themselves to the Order and teleporting her to a safe resistance base. she carries that weight with her everywhere she goes, but she's never told a soul (willingly, anyway. the only people who know are the party, who went through an encounter two sessions ago where all of them had to relive a regretful memory in front of the others. she's not handling it well.) she's been with the Resistance for years, and at some point, she was tasked with kidnapping an Order agent to hold them for ransom, hopefully getting information out of them. said Order agent did unfortunately happen to be a pretty girl with rapidly deteriorating faith in the Order's principles and a rapidly growing desire to atone and help the Resistance. after that, well. two girls, trekking through a forest, five feet apart trading insults that turn into terms of endearment and sharing one night of quiet Looks over a campfire and maybe not actually five feet apart after all....anyway the Order raided the resistance base where maisie had brought the agent and they thought they'd never see each other again. oh, and the agent (turned insider spy and now Resistance fighter) is one of the PCs, and ever since the party's been made aware of the Resistance, maisie's been tagging along most sessions. it is such peak enemies to lovers slow burn goodness and i simply love being a little bit gay with my friend. also maisie is blue. i feel like that's important information.

stu!!!!!!! stu is, hands down, the party's (and my, for very different reasons) favorite npc. he is the stoner roommate of one of the other PCs, local weed dealer and field medic, and purveyor of the world's best scrambled eggs. stu is that very specific brand of extremely tall and lanky Man who is somehow deeply nonthreatening regardless? he's got a mass of curly blonde hair and a goatee that he's very proud of, and is always in an oversized hoodie, jeans, and a beanie, regardless of the weather. i can't say too much more because there are 3 fuckers who follow me on here who I know are reading along rn and would continue to even if I told them to stop, BUT

he and maisie both know how to heal, but where maisie does it magically, intuitively--passing a hand over the wound, running a finger through water and then tracing the lines of a cut--stu's healing is *clinical*, antiseptic and surgical thread and "make sure you change the dressing on that every 12 hours", but there's also this strange, out of place desperation in stu's eyes whenever he heals, though his hands never shake and his voice never wavers. i'll stop here for maximum players going apeshit energy, but text me if u wanna know more!!