#because what could be more awkward than being stuck with someone you got banished!

[zutara]

*takes a big breath*

Oh, my dears, where do I even begin?

I shall try to answer you both in one single rambling. Just bear with me, please….!

To start, the only thing inside this fandom that irks me more than Maiko, are those who think Zuko was an actual evil individual at any given time during the story. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: ZUKO. WAS. NEVER. EVIL! But that’s another rant for another day…

Now, onto the Mai part.

Although I’ve always thought Maiko was toxic af, it was completely necessary for Zuko to go through that relationship so that he could grow and evolve.  

So, onto your questions. What do I think is Zuko’s view of Mai?

I think his view of her changed as the story-and his circumstances-changed. As children, Mai was Azula’s friend, the girl Azula mercilessly teased him with just to be cruel. As he grew, I’m sure Zuko in his own way became part of Azula’s inner circle but, based on the flashbacks we saw during Zuko Alone, I have trouble believing it was a healthy association for the most part. But hey, it happens all the time when you’re a kid. There are people you’re just stuck with, but you care about them nonetheless.

Another thing, I think Zuko understood—or was taught from a very young age– that as royalty he was expected to keep only a certain type of company around. Especially when choosing a gf/ bride. I think Zuko knew he was expected to go out with someone of high social standing, preferably a girl coming from a family within the Fire Lord’s good graces. He knew what was expected of him, and Mai was always there, part of his inner world, fitting all the requirements. And I’m sure he did like her and cared (cares?) for her a great deal. I’m not trying to deny or erase that part of his story. Never will.

BUT!

Fast-forward to Zuko post-banishment, –to a Zuko who has lived, learned, and survived in the world outside palace walls for years now; to a Zuko who, unbeknownst even to himself, has grown under his uncle´s love and influence. To a Zuko whose real essence (that same essence that spoke up in defense of his countrymen to save their lives) is finally starting to emerge again after his father so violently snuffed and silenced it– and give him the one solution he had convinced himself as a child he needed to fix everything that was causing him pain… and well, that inner traumatized little boy was going to take that chance regardless of how much he had changed.  At the end of the day, he just wanted to go home because he thought home was where he would heal his broken heart. The broken heart of a prince, of a son, of a young boy. And Mai becomes part of that illusion.

Mai automatically becomes yet another lifeline back into his old life. She was familiar, the original plan, just as things were always meant to be from the start. Sometimes I think Zuko was more infatuated with the idea of being his old self again than he was infatuated with Mai (does that make sense?). And that, my dears, is not love. Nor trust. Nor affection. That’s just familiarity and another way back to feeling like the old Zuko again.

As to the other question, NO, I don’t think it was abusive of Zuko to leave Mai behind! At all! COMMON, PEOPLE! He literally left her locked up in a cell, in a prison belonging to the Fire Nation, ran by Mai’s own uncle. If anything, she was safe there. Also, it’s like you said, Mai may be many things, but defenseless she is not! She is a kick-ass, dagger wielding, willful girl who has been trained from childhood. Zuko was awkward and yeah, even immature about the confrontation, but there were bigger things happening at that exact moment than his relationship with Mai. And opposite to popular belief, I think Zuko breaking up with her via parchment roll was necessary. The poor boy really had no other choice. If he’d have talked to her, she probably wouldn’t have listened to him, and even if she had, she wouldn’t have understood (she never did! Not once!) and would have done everything within her power to stop him.

That’s why I never liked them as a couple. Zuko was not the same he was when he returned, and she never truly acknowledged or was supportive of his history, who he had become, and what he truly wanted. She never understood him.

So yeah…those are my two cents on that. Sorry I got so lengthy and sorry if I made no sense. I just love Zuko so fucking much, ya know? I get emotional easily when it comes to him.

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt23

thank you so much for your support last chapter!! i super duper appreciate each and every one of you :) if you can, pls share!! but u don’t have to i will love u just the same WARNING THOUGH MINOR SPOILERS FOR THE COMICS IN HERE READ AT UR OWN RISK

pt1

pt22

pt24

“It’s my fault mostly, I think. I pushed him away when I shouldn’t have and I didn’t tell him why. Then today, everything seemed normal again.” (Y/N) laughed. “I guess I don’t really know what normal is for Zuko and I anymore.” 

Zuko had been gone for a few months. He had missed his own eighteenth birthday, as well as (Y/N’s) seventeenth. Sometimes he sent messenger hawks back home, indicating that all was well and he would return shortly, but that was the extent of his messages. Every time she saw a hawk fly into the palace, (Y/N) felt her chest tighten in anticipation of what Zuko would say. Did he find his mother? Would she be returning home with him? What had she been doing all of this time? (Y/N) didn’t like having more questions than answers. 

During Zuko’s absence, she and Ren became a lot closer. She had fun on the few dates they had gone on and enjoyed his company, but she wasn’t quite sure if she was ready to call him her boyfriend. After all, the first boyfriend she had broke up with her because of the boy she had loved her entire life who now had a girlfriend, so she didn’t have the best of luck in the boyfriend department. 

But there was also part of her that urged her to take a chance on Ren. He was kind and smart and loved to hear about her adventures, and he was the first person she had ever befriended that wasn’t in her immediate group. He was different than anything she had experienced before. He had never fought anyone if it wasn’t for practicing earthbending and he certainly had never feared for his life. He liked to drink tea and create tiny creatures for her using his bending. He was normal. (Y/N) liked normal. 

She had been walking the halls of the palace with Ren when she noticed the servants all begin running around. Confused, she stopped one to ask what was going on. Her reflexes immediately prepared for a fight, but calmed once she saw the excited smile on the servant girl’s face. “The Fire Lord and his mother are arriving!” 

(Y/N) would feel a little bit bad later, for leaving Ren behind, but in that moment she darted out of the palace and into the courtyard, where a large carriage was pulling up. She walked down the steps with her robes billowing behind her and ignored the servants hushed whispers about what a proper royal greeting was. She ran up to the carriage and flung the door open before the servants could. Zuko’s face appeared first, only inches from hers, and a smile slowly crept onto his features. She let him crawl out of the carriage before wrapping him in a hug. 

“Don’t ever leave for that long again!” She exclaimed, punching him lightly in the shoulder. 

“Ow!” He feigned hurt, rubbing his arm. “You could’ve come with me, you know.” 

“Someone had to keep this place running.” She rolled her eyes playfully before diverting them back to the carriage. Another man stepped out with a little girl who could be no older than five. (Y/N) looked at Zuko quizzically before the final passenger exited. 

When she was younger, (Y/N) thought that Ursa was the prettiest woman in the Fire Nation. She had been so different from the rest of the royal family. Her kindness exuded from her. Ursa had always been able to tell when (Y/N) was upset and talked her through some of the more difficult issues she had experienced with her parents. Despite being royalty, she had never treated (Y/N) any differently than her other children. She had been the mother that (Y/N) always wanted. 

So for those very reasons, (Y/N) could not help her eyes from welling with tears when she stared at Ursa’s face. She tried her best to hold back her tears so that she could speak. “I don’t know if you remember me, but--” 

“(Y/N),” Ursa said. “Of course I remember you.” And (Y/N) couldn’t help but throw herself at Ursa and wrap her arms around her. Ursa held her tight and stroked her hair like she used to when she was a child. 

She pulled away, wiping violently at the tears that streamed down her face. She gave the group a small smile. “Sorry, I really thought I’d be able to control myself better.” 

“(Y/N), this is my husband, Noren,” Ursa gestured to the man standing beside her. (Y/N) gave him a curt smile and a bow.

“Zuko has told us a lot about you,” Noren said. She looked back to see Zuko’s face turn a shade of bright red. 

“Good things, I hope.” 

Ursa gestured down to the little girl at Noren’s side. “And this is Kiyi, our daughter.” (Y/N) bent down to Kiyi’s level and stuck out her hand for her to shake. 

“Hi, Kiyi,” She said softly. “I’m (Y/N), Zuko’s friend.” 

“Zuzu,” Kiyi said quietly, before hiding behind her father’s leg. The statement surprised (Y/N), because there was only one other person in the world who called him that. And she just so happened to be missing from this happy reunion. She looked at Zuko again and he gave her a slight shake of his head, indicating that they would discuss Azula later. 

“Who is that?” Noren asked, nodding his head toward Ren. (Y/N’s) eyes opened wide as she realized she had completely forgotten about him in the excitement. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed, running back to Ren to pull him toward the group. “I’m so sorry, we were walking around the palace before you guys got here. This is Ren! My--” 

“Her boyfriend,” Ren said with a smile, giving a bow to Zuko and his family. “It’s truly an honor to meet all of you. Especially you, Fire Lord, I’ve heard so much about you.” 

(Y/N) watched as Zuko’s pleasant smile turned into a deep frown. She took a step away to distance herself from Ren before putting a smile on her own face. “You all have been traveling for so long, why don’t I ask the kitchens to put a nice dinner together?”

“We’d love that!” Ursa said cheerfully. If she had caught on to the awkward moment, she gave no indication. “Will you be joining us, Ren?” 

“I’d rather this just be a family affair,” Zuko said. (Y/N) knew that tone. He was angry, but she didn’t know why. 

“No problem!” Ren said with a smile. He grabbed (Y/N’s) hand. “You can have dinner at my house, if you’d like.” 

“(Y/N) is family,” Zuko stared down at Ren disapprovingly. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” (Y/N) said, desperate to get everyone out of the tense situation. He turned to her and smiled once more before kissing her on the cheek and walking away. (Y/N) felt her face heat up, but she wasn’t sure if it was from flattery or embarrassment. 

At dinner, Zuko and (Y/N) walked Ursa and Noren through their past few years together, starting at Zuko’s banishment and finishing right before he left to find his mother. Kiyi sat quietly at the dinner table, playing with her noodles. 

“Does the palace still make fruit tarts?” Ursa questioned. Both (Y/N) and Zuko nodded. 

“They can make whatever you’d like,” Zuko said, but Ursa shook her head. 

“I’d like a fruit tart. If there’s one thing I’ve missed besides the two of you, it’s those tarts.” The servants left the dining room immediately to prepare the treat. “Fruit tarts are the reason (Y/N) and Zuko are such close friends.” 

“Oh?” Noren raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure that’s an interesting story.” 

“Not as interesting as you might think,” (Y/N) admitted. “I came to Zuko’s tenth birthday party and all the fruit tarts were gone, so he snuck me down to the kitchens to get some more.” 

“I still remember the look on Little (Y/N’s) face when she saw me catch them,” Ursa laughed. 

“As a nine year old, I found the royal family to be very intimidating!” 

“You don’t now?” Zuko asked, a hint of a playful smile at his lips. (Y/N) scoffed. 

“You’re about as intimidating as a turtle duck.” They all erupted into laughter. (Y/N) couldn’t help but think that this is what home felt like. 

---

On the rare occasion that (Y/N) couldn’t sleep, she liked walking out to the pond and sitting in the moonlight. It was one of the few moments when her life was actually peaceful and while she usually sat alone, she liked to pretend that Yue was sitting right beside her. 

That night, (Y/N) tried her hardest to get to sleep, but she couldn’t. Her mind raced with the days’ events. She was so excited to reunite with Ursa and meet her family, but she was also confused as to why Ren would so boldly put a label on their relationship when it wasn’t something they had discussed. She also couldn’t figure out why Zuko was upset. (Y/N) hated not knowing things, so she chose to walk down to the pond to hopefully clear her head. 

When she arrived, Ursa was already sitting by the edge of the pond. She noticed (Y/N’s) presence almost immediately and pat the grass beside her. “A lot on your mind?” 

(Y/N) sighed. “You have no idea.” 

“I used to come here whenever I had something to think about, too. I’m here to listen, if you need it.” 

“I don’t know how much Zuko has told you about me, but before he left, our relationship was sort of...bad. We had become very distant from each other.” 

“Why is that?” 

“It’s my fault mostly, I think. I pushed him away when I shouldn’t have and I didn’t tell him why. Then today, everything seemed normal again.” (Y/N) laughed. “I guess I don’t really know what normal is for Zuko and I anymore.” 

“I think, for you two, normal is being together. Whatever that might entail.” (Y/N) stared at Ursa for a moment before turning to the pond to mull over what she meant. After a brief lull in conversation, Ursa spoke again. “How long have you and Ren been together?” 

(Y/N) shrugged. “A few months? We’ve gone on a few dates and I liked spending time with him, but today was the first day he had ever called himself my boyfriend.” 

“That’s good news, isn’t it?” The truth was, (Y/N) wasn’t so sure. She knew he meant well, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that today hadn’t been the best day to say something like that. 

“Maybe,” was all (Y/N) could say. She hated being like this. She thought she had grown into someone who was sure of herself. Now, her emotions were one scrambled mess. She couldn’t quite tell how she felt about anyone. “Why are you sitting out here?” 

“Being here brings back many memories. Some happy, others not so much.” Ursa smiled at her. “I’m sure you’ve come to realize the intricacies of palace life.” (Y/N) nodded. 

“Zuko and I have spent a long time trying to figure out who to trust.” 

“At least you know you can trust each other.” Ursa paused for a moment, as if she wasn’t sure if she should say what she was about to say. “I was very happy when Zuko told me you were still in his life. You were set on such different paths after his banishment. I’m glad he had someone like you to come back to.” 

“It took a while,” (Y/N) admitted. “A long while. But we got there eventually.” 

“I believe that the strongest relationships are held together by unbreakable strings. No matter where you go, you will always have Zuko.” Ursa punctuated her sentence with a yawn. “We should get to bed. I heard some servants whispering about a celebratory breakfast. And lunch.” 

---

Weeks passed and Zuko became increasingly happier in his position as Fire Lord. Having his mother around stepfather around was a nice treat and he was thoroughly enjoying getting closer with his half-sister, Kiyi. Even his relationship with (Y/N) felt like it was starting to improve again. The only downside to everything was Ren. 

Zuko didn’t like Ren from the moment (Y/N) brought him over, but he had tried to hide that from her. When Ren introduced himself as her boyfriend, Zuko felt an anger rise in him that he had never experienced before. Sure, he had been a little jealous when (Y/N) was with Sokka, but he knew Sokka was a good person at heart and would treat her kindly no matter what. He could trust Sokka with (Y/N). Every fiber of his being told him not to trust Ren. He wasn’t sure why, but his own instincts hadn’t failed him recently. So whenever he could, he would insert himself into their walks or conversations. He tried to play it off as friendliness, but he could tell that (Y/N) knew something was off. 

Zuko had been walking down one of the less-traveled corridors of the palace since his meeting had ended early. When he had a foggy mind, he liked to clear his head by walking around the expansive halls. He usually ended his walks feeling refreshed. 

Zuko was surprised when he heard voices coming from one of the rooms in the hall. He followed the voices to the very end of the hall, where the door had been left slightly ajar. Zuko peered through the crack in the door and saw Ren talking to his father, a very wealthy Earth Kingdom aristocrat. 

“How are things with the girl?” His father asked. 

“Very well! She and I spend all of our free time together when the Fire Lord isn’t around.” Zuko frowned. 

“And she’s falling for you?” 

“Definitely. She’s a giggly mess whenever I’m around. I plan on proposing by the end of the year.” 

This nearly sent Zuko to the ground. He hadn’t realized that (Y/N) and Ren were far enough along in their relationship to consider marriage. (Y/N) hadn’t even mentioned it to Zuko. 

“She has no clue what you’re doing, correct?” 

“Not one. When she’s not with me, she’s busy running around for the Fire Lord.” 

“Excellent,” Ren’s father drawled. “With her as an addition to our family, we’ll be able to get the Fire Lord to do anything we want.” 

“He’s practically in love with her. He’ll do anything she says, I guarantee it.” 

Zuko realized that that was the real reason why Ren wanted to be with (Y/N). He didn’t care for her at all, he simply wanted to use her connection to him to further his family’s political advances. The anger inside of him burned hot and bright, and it took everything in him to not send a fireball at them right then. Instead, he walked away. 

When Zuko found Ren and his father again, they were on their way out of the palace. “Wait!” Zuko called out, running down the steps to catch up to them. His guards followed him like shadows. Ren and his father turned around and bowed at him. 

“Fire Lord Zuko,” Ren’s father said. “To what do we owe this pleasure?” 

“I would like to inform the two of you that you are no longer welcome in the Fire Nation. From this moment on, you are banished from our land.” 

“What?” Ren asked, his jaw dropping in disbelief. Zuko turned to face him. 

“I heard all about your little plan to marry (Y/N) to get me to do your bidding. I knew I didn’t like you from the first day that I met you. I didn’t know until today that there was an actual reason.” 

“You’re insane,” Ren spat, just as his father said, “This is all a misunderstanding.” 

Zuko set his jaw and raised his chin high. “I know what I heard. I am Fire Lord Zuko and I will not tolerate conspiracy, regardless of who perpetrates it. For this reason, you are banished from the Fire Nation.” The guards seized the two men and dragged them off of the palace grounds as they shouted curses at Zuko. 

---

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[im-frickin-trying-okay]

Hey there, i have maybe an odd fic request for you, or just headcanon if it doesn't grab you that much.

Y/N is a witch/wiccan and offers too help shoto with his hand crusher curse, but after an intimate little ritual he thinks they/she accidentally cast a love spell on him or maybe the spell backfired. Turns out he just has a crush and is being a big dork about it.

Sorry this took so long! It might not be the most accurate, but hopefully it turned out okay. Also, I sorta mixed it with a coffee shop au but that's more as a tool than a plot point lol

Hand Crusher's Crush

I hope I did this justice :) I feel like I'm a bit better at descriptions than dialogue. Also, I did a bunch of research, but if anything's super inaccurate, please let me know!

A knock on your door caught your attention. You didn't tend to get visitors, as sometimes the world felt too 'peopley' for your taste. It's not like you weren't open to them, you just didn't have a lot of friends. Opening the door, you found yourself face-to-face with a striking young man. His hair fell slightly over his eyes, with red and white split down the middle.

"Um, hello," you said, not sure about this curious stranger. He cleared his throat quietly.

"Hello. I'm Shoto from UA," he said. He seemed quite serious, but it came across as a bit awkward. "Shoto Todoroki," he added. "I heard you have a special kind of healing quirk."

"Well, technically no, but I like to think I do," you reply simply. Your quirk is called Vibes. You can visualize, manipulate, and use certain energies. Once you got control of it, and did a little research on how to collect the intentions and energies, you changed your lifestyle. "Are you hurt or sick?"

"Well, no, it's not that I'm hurt. It's that I... I hurt people," he said, remorse bleeding into his voice. He glanced down at his hands, before looking back up at you. "I don't want to hurt people anymore."

For a split second, you wondered if there was some sort of killer at your doorstep, but instead of turning him away, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. "Hurt people, how?"

"Whenever I'm around, people hurt their hands," he said, completely serious, and a bit regretful. "It's like I'm the hand crusher or something." You blinked at him. Hand crusher? Well, at least he's not a serial killer. "I think I'm cursed, and I heard that maybe you could help with that."

"Ohh, a curse, huh? Well, I suppose I could try," you said, opening the door a bit wider.

He walked in, and was immediately hit with the scent of lemons. Looking around your living room, he noticed some things that he wasn't quite familiar with. He narrowly avoided the small black tourmaline towers on either side of the door, and felt his gaze land on the shadowy shelf on which there were three different jars of water. His eyes were drawn in all different directions by all the different things. Crystals on the shelves, tiny jars by the windows, and enough candles to set the house on fire.

"So," you said, gesturing around. "Uh, welcome, I guess. Come on over here." You gestured over to a small table with a few chairs around it. He sat down across from you, not seeming sure of what to do. "Let's start off easy. Who's hands have you been crushing?"

He sighed at the question. "A couple of my classmates', at least. I'm not sure if I've hurt anyone else." He took a bit to explain the situations, and how as far as he could tell, he was the only thing that tied the events together. It sounded a little bit like a coincidence, but then again, it was probably possible, right? And he would know better than you about what happened.

"Well, okay. I can probably help you," you said, still pondering over the stories he'd just told. "How good are you at cracking eggs?"

After an egg test, you found that he wasn't cursed per say, but there was definitely a lot of negativity surrounding him, and it was definitely weighing on him.

"Well... I'm not sure if it has to do with the crushing-of-hands, but there's some stuff I can help with," you said simply. He nodded, fully trusting.

You walked across the room and grabbed a few things. Selenite, rosemary... You counted off the things you needed in your head, before going back to your seat. You explained your plan to him. Cleanse and banish negative energy, and you'd be giving him a selenite crystal. It wasn't a problem, since you already had a lot.

"Will the crystal help stop me from hurting people?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"It's possible," you said simply. "If someone decided to punch a wall while you were in the room, their hand would be crushed, but it's not your fault."

"But wouldn't I have-?"

"Hey, hey, listen," you said gently, putting your hand over his. You could feel his doubt, but you wanted to reassure him. "It wouldn't be your fault. If it still feels that way, maybe try not to identify as The Hand-Crusher. That might be part of why these things occur so often." He frowned slightly, before nodding. He came to you for help, so it wouldn't be right of him to turn it down. "The crystal will basically just help keep your energy clear."

"My... Energy," he repeated, trying to remember if the first hand-crushing incident happened before or after Kaminari convinced him to try a Monster. "Is it bad?" he asked nervously.

"It's not bad, it's more of the things crowding around and onto it." After attempting to explain it, and getting a confirmation of his understanding, you began.

Rosemary smoke began to fill the room, but because of your quirk, it didn't look like smoke. Instead, a soft white light flowed through the space. Shoto watched in what seemed like awe as the room began to glow. Placing the rosemary bundle in a bowl, you continued on.

You clapped your hands, and golden sparks shimmered around them. Shooting your hands up, the sparks flew, before landing in a circle around you, like a dome of glitter. Shoto couldn't seem to pick where he wanted to look. The room seemed completely different now.

What would've normally been a smoky room and a bunch of stones turned into a beautiful light show, a light filled world with the two of you at its core. Something about the way his eyes sparkled made you feel a vague satisfaction. It made you glad to know that he wasn't bored or anything of that sort. He didn't seem to be a very smiley person, but he was clearly enjoying this.

Once all was said and done, and the lights began to fade, his eyes remained trained on you. "How was that?" You asked. "How're you feeling?"

He blinked out of his reverie. "Actually, much better," he said, seemingly surprised. "Thank you," he added.

"Happy to help," you replied, completely genuine.

"How could I repay you?" He asked, already reaching for whatever was in his pocket. It didn't take a genius to figure out he intended to use money, and really, you were financially comfortable. Your YouTube channel was decent, and considering that working at a coffee shop meant constantly being around coffee and tea, you didn't mind it. Besides, you didn't feel like you did as much as you probably did.

"Oh, no no," you said. "It's okay. You can repay me by trying to tune out negative people in your life," you said matter-of-factly. "It'll probably help delay any bad-vibes buildup." He hummed, nodding, but it wasn't hard to tell that he already had his mind on a specific someone.

"I know who I need to keep away from."

• • •

Over the next few weeks, Shoto was aware of the way that his mood had been lifted. He hadn't realized that he was feeling bad until he started feeling better. He was also vaguely aware that Midoriya hadn't broken his arms recently. It really worked! He felt glad that the curse was gone, as long as whatever else may have been wrong.

Then it began. He would occasionally think of you, think of what happened, and look back with a feeling of gratitude. When he held the selenite and felt his mood and thoughts balance out, he thought back to when you gave it to him. He couldn't help but think that you truly were magic.

After a while though, he noticed something changing. He'd look back on the same events, but instead of gratitude, he felt nothing but longing. He wanted to see the way the room lit up, he wanted to see your face, he wanted to hear your voice, he wanted you to hold his hand again... These new thoughts were more frequent, and you were always on his mind now! You were stuck in his head, and now he found himself missing this perfect stranger, always wishing to be in your presence. At first he couldn't identify these feelings, but then... Oh no.

You must've accidentally hit him with a love spell or something! He'd only seen you once, so that had to be the explanation, right? He'd have to go to you so you could fix it! Or was that the spell talking? Could it just be that he wanted to see you again? Maybe he just wanted to hear your explanations, to see the way you smiled if he said something that sounded like a joke but really wasn't, to see the way that your eyes lit up when you used your quirk, and oh, those eyes- No, bad Shoto, focus.

Things were complicated to say the least. It actually made him happy to think about you, and considering that the crystal didn't do anything to take away the feelings, he wasn't overly worried about the love spell's effects. However, over time, he realized how problematic it could be. Spacing out in the middle of an English lesson just to think of you was probably the most common reoccurrence. It wasn't like he didn't know the topic, but it was confusing to be asked a question and not even know what was being discussed.

He wasn't used to losing focus like this. Occasionally it would happen, but everyone's mind wanders. This felt different. You'd populate his mind, even narrate his thoughts, and he wasn't sure how to prevent it.

He had to put a stop to this. He tucked the selenite into his jacket pocket, and went to go get some tea. Yes, tea. Contrary to popular belief, he could still enjoy the stuff. Right now, he just wanted to pick some up before going to see you. Hopefully it would help get his thoughts in order, and calm him down. He walked into the shop and stared at the ceiling for a good thirty seconds before getting in line. He pondered if he should go talk to you directly about the love spell. Should he imply it? Did he want to fix it? It was hard to tell. He didn't dislike it, but the things that it caused weren't the best. He thought this over until he got to the front of the line.

"Hello, welcome to- Shoto?" came a familiar voice. His gaze snapped up to meet yours, and his heart jumped into his throat. The incessant fluttering in his stomach and chest made it hard to string words into a sentence. "Wow! Didn't expect to see you here," you said, pleasantly surprised.

"Hello," he blurted out, a mix of embarrassment and confusion swirling around in his head. He tried to come up with something more articulate, but was suddenly drawing a sudden blank. "Spell worked," he said, before immediately feeling like that was an understatement.

"Oh, well that's good," you said with a smile. You glanced up at the clock. "I'm off in like, 20 minutes if you wanna talk, but for now, how can I help you?" you asked. He blinked, before firing off the order he only remembered because he'd said several times before.

A bit later, he sat at his own table, a small one in the corner, and thought. He thought about how his mind was clouded with everything about you. He thought about how he finally got to see you after so long. He thought about how he'd only seen you once before. He thought about this love spell, and how he didn't exactly dislike it. He thought about how you might react when he told you. He thought about how it would be better to go into this slowly, and how- "Shoto!"

He popped his head up, before running over to grab his drink. He forced an awkward smile, which kinda looked like a grimace, before heading back to his seat, lost in thought once again. He didn't want to scare you off, of course, but did he even know you well enough to bring up this topic? He could say that he loved you right then and there, but he didn't even know your birthday! He barely noticed the time passing until you sat in the chair across from him.

"Hey," you said, smiling. "So, how've you been?" you asked. His mind went completely blank and he had no memory of what language it was that he spoke. His heart pounded in his ears. I can't do this, not yet- Idiot, that's what you're here for! Well, that and tea. Dammit- Say something! Once he wrangled his thoughts together, he tried his best to respond.

"I-I've been good. Well? Well. Grammar. Um, how about you?" he managed, the tips of his ears already bright red. He was embarrassed by the lack of his usual composure.

"I've been decent," you replied shrugging. "Thinking about you," you added. He choked on his drink, his face turning bright red.

"What?" he asked, trying not to seem flustered. This spell was getting troublesome.

"Y'know, just how you've been doing and stuff. So, you said that the stuff we did worked?" you asked. He nodded. "That's great!"

"Y-yeah," he said, frowning slightly. "Question. Er, is it possible for me to lo- No, is it possible to accidentally cast a love spell?" His heart was pounding.

"What? Not that I'm aware of, no. Why, did something happen?" you asked, slightly confused. Those things have to be intentional, don't they?

"Ah. Can they be a result of a spell backfiring?" Shoto asked, trying to think of what else could've caused it.

"I mean, I guess that would probably depend on the spell, but even then, I don't think so," you said, now a bit concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Me?" he asked incredulously. "Of course I'm alright," he said. If a spell didn't cause this, then what did? He tried to run through the possibilities. Should he tell?

"Hey, look at me," you said. He did as you said, meeting your eyes. "If you think something happened, you can tell me."

"Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "I'm fine." The warm and fluttery feeling didn't give him time to think before he said his next words. "I just thought it might be a spell, since I'm falling in love as we speak."

About five seconds of complete silence followed. In those five seconds, a lot happened. Shoto could've sworn his heart stopped, but the blood rushing to his face proved otherwise. You seemed to be in a state of shock, not able to respond. Your heart thudded in a he's cute, yeah, but how did this even happen kind of way.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out.

"Are you for real?" you asked at the same time. Your head was spinning. What's happening right now?!

"What? I'm right in front of you," he said. When you laughed, he took a moment to reconsider. "Ah, right. Well, yes, I am, but I didn't mean to say it like that." The nervous buzzing in his head was one of the strongest emotions he'd felt in the past who-knows-how-long. "I thought it might be a spell or side-effect, since I don't know you all that well."

Holy shit, he's completely serious.

The situation would've been concerning if it weren't so funny. You found yourself laughing, and trying desperately not to in order to not hurt his feelings, but oh my gods, he really thought this was a spell?! He seemed bewildered, and that just made it funnier.

"I'm- I'm sorry," you said, gasping for air, "You thought I cast a love spell?"

"Unintentionally," he added, as if that made it better. "I don't think you would have done that without telling me first." His face was still red, but he seemed calmer.

"Well- You're- you're right about that part," you managed through the laughter. "I can confirm for you that I didn't cast a love spell," you said, just barely able to sound calm.

"I see," he said, not meeting your eyes. The second-hand embarrassment was a lot. He stayed quiet, not sure what to say.

"Shoto?" you called, once you managed to calm down.

"Hm?" came his wordless reply, his mind clearly somewhere else.

"That was adorable," you said, simply stating your thoughts out loud. He's so painfully genuine all the time that it's hard to not to think so.

"Wh-what?" he said, as light embers flew from his red hair. Or rather, the red part of his hair.

"I mean, it was!" you said, before suddenly backtracking. "Not in a weird way, it just is, y'know?"

After stumbling through awkward conversation for three minutes or so, Shoto asked a question. The question almost killed you.

"If I'm not under a love spell, then what is this?" he asked. You choked, really not understanding how you'd have to explain this.

"You... Is it possible that the, er, feelings developed naturally?" You asked, trying to phrase it as professionally as possible.

"Don't you have to know someone for a long time for that?" he asked in response.

"N-not necessarily," you said, trying to decipher if he was still being serious. "One interaction can be enough, and as of now, we've had two," you added. He seemed thoughtful for a moment.

"Alright, then I suppose that makes sense," he said, nodding. After a beat of silence, you laughed.

"Well. Uh. If your concern was too few interactions, we could always just talk more, if you want," you offered, head still swirling with the awkwardness of all this.

"I'd like that," he replied, the blush never leaving.

• • •

It had been five months now, and Shoto could now say for absolute sure that there was no love spell involved. The two of you were much closer, and he liked getting to call himself your boyfriend. He enjoyed getting to know you, and was surprised at how much better he knew himself. He was still a dork, and still a bit fast to jump to conclusions, but that's just who he is. However, you did help him change, and it was in the best way possible. You showed him how to change his definition of love into something healthy, and he couldn't be more grateful.

From the day you met, you lit up his life in more ways than one.

Could anyone blame him for loving you?

[melzula]

how about a fire liiies blurb about princess reader, zuko and iroh coming across azula after the invasion of the north?

a/n: the first half is so much longer than the second oh goodness but I hope you enjoy!

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

“Run away with me.”

“We’ll go wherever you’d like, it doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.”

“We’re going to be so happy together, y/n.”

“You’re going to be happy with me.”

The ocean breeze that flows through your loose locks of hair is a bittersweet reminder of the home you’d left behind three years ago today. The quiet island you’ve found to rest on is beautiful, but it’s hard to enjoy the peace and tranquility that surrounds you after having grown accustomed to living a life of constant action and chaos. It’s in the moments of stillness that your mind is able swirl with thoughts of guilt and doubt until you begin to feel nauseous and homesick. You love Zuko, and that seems to be the only thing you‘re ever one hundred percent sure of nowadays. The rest is fuzzy and uncertain, but you try not to let it get the best of you.

You’ve kept your distance from Zuko for most of the day, wanting to allow him the necessary amount of space and respect needed to lament over the anniversary of his banishment, but the invisible barrier that separates you both only seems to make things more depressing. You feel guilty for having such thoughts, but you can’t help the small bit of resentment that sits in your heart as you are reminded of the fact that you should be in Ba Sing Se right now instead of sulking on the dock. If you had known you’d be traveling fruitlessly in search of the Avatar, you might have rethought your decision just a bit more. You can’t say you regret your choice, however, because it got you out of an unwanted marriage and gave you an opportunity to grow as a bender, something you never would have gotten at home. Your mother used to say that things always had a funny way of working themselves out, and you had to hope that this piece of advice was true.

A quiet presence seats themself beside you, and you don’t have to look to know that it’s Zuko. There is no tension or awkwardness to the silence you sit in, but there is a bit of nervousness that radiates off of Zuko. He knows today is important to you just like it is to him, though for partly different reasons, and he wants you to feel understood and appreciated. Spirits know he hasn’t done a very good job of that lately.

“Do you like it here?” Zuko asks quietly.

“It’s beautiful,” you hum in response. “I’ve never been anywhere like it.”

“I’m glad,” he nods before opening his palm to you and revealing a beautiful cherry blossom. His cheeks are dusted with a light shade of pink as he clears his throat and gestures to your hair. “May I?”

A gentle smile graces your features at the offer and you nod, allowing Zuko to carefully tuck the flower into your hair. He’ll never be able to understand how someone as beautiful and precious as you could love someone so flawed like himself. What was it that kept you around even after all he put you through? He knew it wasn’t for money nor for a chance to climb your way to the top; you were a Princess who chose to throw everything away to live a simple life as peasants with him in Ba Sing Se. He knew you loved him, but so had his mother and she had still left him. You don’t know it, but Zuko fears the day you decide you’ve had enough and leave him behind.

“You’re beautiful,” Zuko admits with a small smile, and you happily rest your head upon his shoulder and look out at the crystal blue ocean before you. “Thank you for being here with me. I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“Things never are,” you note knowledgeably, “but I don’t mind it. Not when I’m with you.”

“I love you,” Zuko professes, and it occurs to him then that he hasn’t said so in a long while. Yet another fault you seem to ignore because you truly do care for him in a way that no one ever has.

“I love you too. And I truly do believe things are going to get better from here.”

“Let’s go inside,” Zuko says after a moment’s beat. “Uncle should be back from the beach by now.”

Rising from his seat on the dock, Zuko holds his hand out to you and helps you up from the ground before guiding you back up the hills and into your temporary shelter. Neither of you are sure how long you’ll be able to stay here, but with the beautiful cherry blossom trees and kind people who reside on the island, it isn’t exactly a bad place to live. Maybe you can get your fresh start here.

Iroh is there to greet when you return to your little refuge, a vast collection of seashells laid out to admire on the table.

“Look at these magnificent shells!” Iroh exclaimed, handing you a particularly pretty blue conch. “I’ll enjoy these keepsakes for years to come.”

“We don’t need anymore useless things,” Zuko reminds him exasperatedly. “You forget, we have to carry everything ourselves now.”

“Hello, brother,” a voice suddenly interrupts, starting the three of you. “Uncle... Princess.”

“Azula,” you gasp quietly, and Zuko is quick to push you behind him and shield you from his conniving sister.

“What are you doing here?” Zuko asks gruffly.

“In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions,” Azula sneers. “Has surrounding yourself with...” she pauses, eyes glancing towards you, “poor company made you become uncivilized so soon, Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that!” He yells. “And don’t bring into her this.”

“I’ve come with a message from home,” she says casually. “Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home. Family are the only ones you can really trust.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the news, fingertips digging into Zuko’s bicep tightly in apprehension. Home? After all he put Zuko through he’s willing to let him back in just like that? Despite the news he says nothing, makes no move to react, and Azula finds his lack of response unnerving.

“Where’s my thank you?” Azula muses. “I’m not a messenger, I didn’t have to come all this way.”

You narrow your eyes slightly at the Princess when the words leave her mouth; yes, she didn’t have to come all this way, and knowing Azula she wouldn’t have for something so small and unworthy of her time. Why not send a messenger hawk or a soldier or anyone of lesser importance to retrieve Zuko and Iroh? Why send Azula? This whole thing isn’t sitting right with you, and your watchful gaze never leaves her even as she excuses herself for the evening and allows Zuko to mull over the news on his own.

“Father wants me home,” he murmurs quietly, and you and Iroh both exchange uneasy glances with each other.

“I’m going to find some dinner for the night,” you announce, but Zuko doesn’t even seem to hear you or notice your departure. There’s much to think about, and you’d like to do so alone.

The cherry blossoms aren’t as pretty as they had been in the morning, now seeming to loom over you tauntingly with the uncertainty of the future. Even if this wasn’t some sort of trick, you doubt you’d be welcomed with the same warmth Iroh and Zuko would be given. You were an outsider, a water bender, a threat, and a distraction to the Prince. You simply couldn’t see yourself living a life amongst the very same people who threaten the ways of your tribe. It would be wrong, and if you felt guilty now you’d feel utterly awful then. You love Zuko, but you aren’t about to willingly follow him and his sister back to the Fire Nation. After everything you’ve been through, this could be the end of your journey together.

“I have to say, I’m surprised you’ve stuck around for this long,” Azula notes offhandedly as you pick through the fresh fruit of the local market.

“You know how much your brother means to me,” you reply calmly, refusing to let her play her little games with you. “But I know you don’t approve of me, and I know you’ll be happy to hear that I won’t be coming with him.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m going back to the Southern Water Tribe, and I’d appreciate it if you could take me there on your ship. I won’t be in your way and I’ll keep to myself, but if not I can find my own way.”

“Oh, I’d be happy to take you,” Azula replies with a glint in her eye. “After all, as Princesses we have to look out for each other.”

“I suppose that’s true,” you murmur, attempting to pay for your groceries only to have Azula wave you off and do so herself.

“I want you to enjoy your last meal with my brother,” she says with a snide smile. “Once he’s back home I’m sure ZuZu will forget all about you.”

“If that’s what you do want to believe,” you reply emotionlessly before turning to venture back home. You stop in your tracks as Azula calls after you, voice lilting with each syllable.

“You’re not the only girl who has her heart set on being with Zuko,” Azula informs you smugly. “My friend Mai has had her sights on him ever since we were children, and as the daughter of a very power politician I’m sure she’d have no trouble winning him over.”

Your shoulders tense slightly at the information but you don’t give Azula the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of you. Instead, you keep your gaze set straight ahead and let out a small breath of air.

“Thank you for the groceries, Azula,” you reply, then continue on your way home.

Dinner is a silent affair as you quietly pick at your noodles, and it’s only until Iroh leaves the two of you alone that Zuko speaks up.

“You’re upset about something.”

“No I’m not.”

“Your nose gets twitchy whenever you’re upset or troubled,” Zuko points out, and it’s times like these where you wish he didn’t know you as well as he did.

“I won’t be going with you,” you say after letting out a sigh.

“What are you talking about?” He replies with a furrowed bro.

“I know you’re going back home, and I’m not going to stop you from doing so. But I can’t go with you. I’m returning back to the Southern Water Tribe.”

“You can’t do that!” Zuko argues. “What about us?”

“There’s still the secret tunnel,” you remind him, “we can still see each other. I just think this is what’s best for us.”

“I thought you’d want to come with me,” Zuko murmurs dejectedly. “Don’t you want to stay with me?”

“I do. I really do. But do you honestly think I’d be welcomed in the Fire Nation?”

Zuko’s silence is enough of an answer for you to finalize your decision, and with a small sigh you rise from your seat at the table and collect the leftover dishes from dinner.

“I’ll come with you on the ship, but I want to be taken back home.”

Defeated, Zuko watches with a forlorn face as you walk out of the room to wash the dishes. It seems your journey together is coming to an end, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead troubles him greatly. He wants to return home, but he also wants to keep you by his side. What is he to do?

~~~

“We’re taking the prisoners home.”

You knew it was all just a dirty little trick; Azula was capable of anything, even turning in her own brother. It looks like you won’t be returning home any time soon, and neither will Zuko.

You fight off the Fire Nation soldiers alongside Iroh while Zuko handles his sister, using the vast ocean around you to your advantage as you topple men left to right. Thanks to Iroh you’re familiar with their movements and understand their approach, thus making it easier for you block and avoid their attacks before retaliating with your own.

With a final wave of water that washes them off the dock, the three of you are quick to run off as far as you can until your legs are too tired to carry on any further. You stop by a nearby stream, and only once you’re sure you’re safe do you stop to take a breath.

Zuko stares out at the water with a solemn expression on his features, and you watch in quiet admiration as both he and Iroh cut off their top knots. You know what this means, and you know how important and symbolic the action is to them both. Their ties with the Fire Nation have been severed, and there’s no going back now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer lamely, but Zuko still takes your hand in his own and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“You shouldn’t be,” is all he says, and you watch quietly as his severed hair floats along the river.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox |

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels: SHORT SERIES PART 3

PART 1 / PART 2

Member: Juyeon

Genre: angst, drama, SOME smut ????

“you lie but i don’t let it define you.”

it is snowing when you reach your office, a team of stylists and make up artists running past you to the studio where you were scheduled to meet a guest for the next issue of your magazine.

being the editor and, occasionally, the chief photographer of such a renowned name placed more pressure on you that you liked. sometimes it put you off, the way it showed you the true colors of celebrities and people who were supposed to be respected in their fields of profession was never a job secret you could get used to.

“filming in three hours, y/n! guest’s coming in about an hour’s time,” the interviewer strides past you with a file in her arms, following closely behind another makeup artist.

“got it, will be in the studio in ten,” you pull off your scarf and get the door of your office open, ready to get your computer on so you could check who was in the studio for the interview and photo-shoot today.

but an interruption in the form of a knock on your door warrants your attention, and your boss pokes his head in without waiting for you to respond.

“can i get you into the studio right now? photographer’s having some trouble setting up the lighting.”

“but i--”

“our guest today’s easy-going and candid so he should be alright with waiting.”

a nod shakes your head before you could process his words, and he pulls back out into the hallways. you put your computer to sleep mode and pat down the creases of your clothes after pulling off your coat. 

the snow outside catches your attention for a few seconds, the large christmas tree sitting right at the entrance of the shopping mall opposite your office building makes you warm with nostalgia. 

white looked so pretty on green and red and gold decorations; people were leaving footprints in the snow on the pavement and couples were holding hands on the way to wherever they were. 

you remember the first year you saw snow with juyeon. he fell sick because he thought jumping into the snow and making a snow angel with no coat was a good idea.

the memory plants a small smile on your lips, and it that takes you awhile to notice. you look away from the world outside, hurriedly pressing your hands into your cheeks to rub the smile off your face.

you get the day’s schedule into a file and make your way to the studio in the basement of the building. the lift opens to a familiarly dark space surrounding the brightly lit studio area where all the lights were, the bustling in the area telling you that something was wrong and the photographer was panicking.

“okay, kevin,” you teasingly call out with a little impatience. “fill me in.” the file in your hand gets tossed onto the table where the screens connected to the camera. 

kevin has his hands in his hair with his eyes wide open.

“the left one isn’t responding with the same amount of sensitivity as the right one and the camera sends pictures back to the screen that look underexposed,” your instincts bring you to wherever he was pointing to, and you start fiddling with the equipment to check for any damages. 

“have you tried shutting them off and turning them on again?”

“three times.”

“hmm,” you hum to yourself, returning to the monitors and comparing the picture on the screen on the DSLR and the monitor. “we might need to use the other set then, send this one for repairing. can’t you use another camera?”

“i think we can replace the equipment but if our guest comes earlier or even on time, we’re going to start the photoshoot late.”

“huh,” you rub your chin, the makeup artists and stylists making a fuss in the dressing room while they set up the clothes and make up products. “i’ll give him a call--”

“good morning!”

kevin turns around first to the lift, and you follow suit only by instinct. the light coming from behind you must’ve turned you into a silhouette because you could see his face clearly.

lee juyeon was carrying a box of donuts, and he was walking in with someone else, presumably his agent or a manager.

“mr lee, you’re extremely early!” kevin reaches out to shake his hand, and your fingers curl up against the mouse connected to the monitor.

“i don’t like missing out,” he grins and hands kevin the box of donuts. “just call me juyeon. last i checked, we are the same age.”

then your back is turned on them, head hanging low and your eyes glued to the table. you reach for the file that belonged to kevin leaning on the CPU, and you flip it open with such aggression, the whole studio would’ve heard it had it not been bustling with activity.

GUEST: LEE JUYEON

OCCUPATION: CHOREOGRAPHER

DATE: DECEMBER ISSUE

INTERVIEW QUESTIONS: TO BE PREPARED AND VERIFIED -- VERIFIED

the flap of the file hides the name from your view, and you finally realise kevin’s been calling out to you for awhile now.

“y/n!”

your temples tighten and your jaws should’ve cracked under the pressure when you turn around. juyeon’s smile shrinks but never really disappears when he sees you again after about two weeks. 

his hair looks less stiff from when you saw him at the club, and he was in a striped top and jeans. 

“hi, it’s nice to meet you,” his voice is warm but fake. he extends a hand out to you, and your need to remain professional cues you to take it with grace. his grip on your hand was rough and tight, sending shocks of anxiety up your hand and into your lungs. 

“likewise.”

the sight of juyeon looking like he just got out of bed and thrown on some barely presentable clothes tugs you back in time, and you remember watching him change into less shabby clothes for school.

this strange feeling is filling your lungs like pneumonia, and you didn’t like it.

you notice kevin’s flitting eyes between the two of you and something inside tells you he was going to sit you down and interrogate you about this awkward encounter with the guest.

but he smiles and reaches over to pat juyeon on his shoulder.

“anyway, the makeup artists and the stylists are in that room,” kevin gently pushes juyeon into the respective direction after juyeon releases your hand. “we have a little trouble with the equipment now so we might start late.”

“oh, that’s fine,” juyeon is disappearing into the room, the view of his polite smile igniting a small flame of confusion in your stomach. 

the night at the strip club becomes a silent movie in your head, but the words you remember spitting in his face about him not doing anything related to his education rings in your ears like an mocking alarm. 

juyeon never denied it nor confirmed it, so you just assumed he wasn’t. 

choreographers design and create sequences and performances that most of the time, they don’t perform themselves. 

this was why he said he couldn’t perform in his day job. 

“take as much time as you need, we’ll need more time to set up the studio!” kevin calls behind him to the stylists and makeup artists as he exits the dressing room, strolling towards you.

your attention resumes to the equipment and you start dismantling the defective studio lights, carefully placing them into the large bags as someone else brings over a new set. 

“are we having this conversation now or later?” kevin queries with wide, curious eyes. 

“we’re not having this conversation ever,” you lift the tripod bag and hand it to one of the production crew members. 

“we’ll do it after he leaves. you’re not going anywhere without telling me what that was.”

kevin shoots you the kind of look that you’d gladly slap off his face, and you would, but you wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of your guest. 

the interviewer runs you through the questions, but your attention refused to sit itself down and absorb the words running off her tongue.

all you could think of how being in the same room as juyeon was so antagonising.

his scent was wafting about in the air like waffles to a child; his smile stuck itself in the retinal memory like someone pasted a sticker into your eyes -- god, those eyes.

the same eyes he used to look at you when he caught you half-naked in bed with sangyeon. 

something must’ve crushed your spirit and it is a reminder that you’re not the best at hiding your emotions when the interview abruptly stops.

“y/n,” she is looking at you like you were sick, and that wasn’t very far from the truth. “are you okay? you’re zoning out and you look a little pale.”

the low volume of commotion trailing from the dressing room forces you to realise your forehead was between your fingers, like you were having a migraine. it takes you awhile to process her question, but you sit back upright and suck in a deep breath, forcing a smile out at the interviewer.

“i’m alright. sorry, i just... thinking about something else unimportant. go on.”

whoever thought creating mankind with the capacity to feel so much love and pain for one person should’ve been banished from all eternity, for all eternity. 

the kinaesthetic memory of his touch on your chin when he first kissed you in the rain drives waves of nauseating nostalgia through you.

the flutters in your stomach because he loved to pull you closer by your waist when you stood too far away from him in a queue or on an escalator; they were always too difficult to ignore.

when he hummed melodies in your ear when you couldn’t sleep or when you cried from the stress you had to swallow in school. 

but you threw all that away when you lost to your need for affection and love; when juyeon chose work over you.

the guest exits the dressing room in the horrid, familiar costume he had on at the stripper club. under the studio lighting, it is more striking on his skin. the lights made him look whiter than snow and the shadows cast under his jaw and ears and face by his hair sharpens his every feature.

some of the production crew were already feasting their eyes on juyeon, and you couldn’t blame them, not when he was a physically fine man on his own.

juyeon notices your eyes widening when you process his costume for the interview and the first part of the filming portion, so he deliberately rubs his left collar bone, exposing the skin on his upper chest and lower neck with the intention of driving you into a corner in your own head. 

kevin watches on with slight entertainment, but also a pinch of concern when he is able to see how much discomfort you were in. there was a look of pain and loss in your eyes which he doesn’t recognise, which he has not seen before. 

usually his editor was professionally emotional, but right now, you were zoning out. you were letting the guest, someone whom you’ve obviously had some kind of history with, puppeteer your heart around in your chest like it didn’t belong to you. 

kevin grabs your attention by resting his warm palm on your shoulder, nodding his head backwards to where the camera monitor was. he was holding a DSLR in his free hand, and you could tell from his eyes that he was trying to understand you just by reading your face.

how you wished you paid attention to the interviewer when she was running through the questions with you.

she was about seven questions in when she popped that fateful query. you couldn’t decide if it was the way she asked the question with such genuine curiosity or if it was the way juyeon froze slightly that made you panic. 

“tell us more about your time in the most prestigious performing arts academy in the country? we heard you sacrificed a great deal of things to... reach your maximum potential. of course, same rule applies: if you’re uncomfortable, you’re very welcome to sound out to us.”

the monitor loses your attention because your eyes were now focused on juyeon straight. in the camera’s view, he was sitting on the left with his right profile angled towards the interviewer, and the monitor was just about a few feet from the interviewer.

so it is absolutely shattering when he looks dead straight at you, though he was under the beams of the studio lights and you were sitting in the dark behind the monitor.

please say you’re uncomfortable, please say you’re uncomfortable, please say you’re uncomfortable, please say you’re uncomfortable, please say you’re uncomfortable, please say you’re uncomfor--

“it was a very fulfilling four years, even for me. and yeah, you’re right, i did lose and sacrifice many things when i was a student there.”

kevin steals a quick glance at you after he lowers his camera, noticing that juyeon was also taking fleeting looks at you past the interviewer when he is answering. 

“i lost time that should’ve been spent with my famlly, and right now i’m trying to make up for the time i lost with them then. i also lost friends i made in the institution i was in prior to enrolling in the academy, and...”

oh, god. 

please... don’t.

“i lost someone i loved very much.”

there was an awkward, almost murderous silence in the air. the interviewer was taking a side-glance at kevin who had the camera angled at juyeon, and juyeon had this contorted, sad smile plastered on his face as he said that last line.

“is this a family member or a partner?”

juyeon looks up through his gelled hair and glances at you, the purple box he was sitting on making you feel like ripping your hair off your scalp and shoving it down your own throat.

“a partner.”

a hesitant pause. 

juyeon seems to be contemplating with himself if he should continue, and he loses the battle to himself.

“she was my everything, then i made a mistake by taking her for granted and choosing my work over her. the day i lost her was the day i realised that i was terrible at time management, that i needed to learn how to prioritise the things i needed in life.”

another pause. 

kevin looks at you, but your eyes were beginning to glisten with a layer of tears. tears of hurt, sadness, loss, grief, maybe even anger, you weren’t sure anymore.

was he just saying this now because you were in the room?

“i didn’t know i needed her until i lost her, and i lost her to another man. it was the biggest mistake then, and it’ll probably be the biggest mistake i’ll ever make.”

slightly stunned at the sudden emotional confession caught on film, she turns to kevin, who gestures for a time out.

“right, thank you for your honesty, mr lee. we’ll be taking a short break here and we’ll have you back here in five, is that alright?”

your feet shove the chair backwards, and you turn away from the monitor, hands flying up to your eyes and gently dabbing away the tears threatening to fall. 

“yes, five,” you hear juyeon respond, but your feet bring you to the equipment room and the automatic light flickers on when you step in, the heavy door shutting loudly behind you. 

the ghost staring back at you in one of the dry cabinets used to store the cameras begins to fish out all your emotions one by one, and you struggle to contain it. 

he’s a liar and he does not prioritise you. 

he is only saying this because you are in the room.

he does not love you anymore.

the door clicks open, and you immediately look up upon the realisation that kevin’s voice was ringing somewhere far away from the equipment room. 

you wouldn’t consider juyeon as threatening or intimidating, but you were scared of him. not because of his anger or hurt, but because he was capable of leaving scars on you in places that nobody else has ever been able to before. 

your soul, your heart, your belief in love. 

juyeon watches you back away with every step he takes towards you, the fluorescent light stuck on the ceiling making his eyes look darker in the shadows of his hair on his face. 

your hand flies up into the air unconsciously, and your palm is opened to him. it was trembling like you were out in the snow without a coat, and the tears return to your eyes as the sour in your nose gets harder to ignore. 

“stop.”

it sounds more like a plead than a command, because of how shaky and terribly heartbreaking it was.

“please, don’t come any closer.”

something cracks in juyeon, and the sight alone breaks you further.

“y/n--”

“no, don’t--”

“i just--”

“please, just stop talki--”

one large step was enough for him to reach you, and he completely disregards the palm you have in the air between you when he presses his lips into yours.

the impact jerks your tears over your lids and more dribble out when you shut your eyes instinctively, tasting the familiar sweetness on your tongue when he willingly parts his lips. 

your cheeks were cupped in his warm hands, and your hands were balled into fists against his chest.

the automatic light flickers off when there was a lack of movement, and the darkness only fuels this intoxicating moment. 

it was a still, long kiss, but your heart felt like it was being thrashed about in a cage. 

it feels like someone was driving the tip of a shoe into your muscles, stepping and shoving clenched fists into your bones and cracking them into pieces like twigs. 

his fingers were digging into the hair behind your ear as you feel yourself involuntarily melting into his hands, then this feeling of missing him overwhelms you like you were drowning in sorrow. 

juyeon pulls away, eyes frantically searching yours for any sign of hatred or anger or any loaded emotions.

but seeing him look at you with immeasurable amounts of detriment only reminds you of the second he realised you spent the night with another man.

guilt fills you like someone stuffed a pipe down your throat and your tears collect in the corners of your eyes when you manage to find the strength to writhe out of his hold.

“y/n--”

“no,” you shake your head and snap yourself away from him, backing yourself to the door so you could run.

run like you have for the last five years, because of mistakes you both made and neither of you refused to admit -- no, admitted but cannot forgive each other for.

“i still love you, and i don’t want to break you again... so please don’t break me anymore, juyeon.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

to be continued

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Art Of Remembrance (Part 31)

Sokka groans, she still hasn’t spoken to him since the night they’d looked at the lights. She isn’t being hostile, but Raava he’d almost prefer it to her cold shoulder. Frankly, he never thought that a firebender could be that cold, perhaps he hadn’t wrapped her in enough parkas after all.

He watches Azula emerge onto the deck and tries a little wave. She returns it with a degree of nonchalance.

Alright, he decides to himself, so maybe she isn’t giving him the cold shoulder but she has definitely been distant. They are two days into their boat ride and she hasn’t come to him with her sleep troubles at all.

The worst of it is that he isn’t entirely sure why. Had not answering her right away really been such an offense? “Can we talk?” He asks as she passes.

“No.” It is a single word and she slips away. Slinking across the deck as though he hadn’t spoken at all. He watches her find TyLee and reluctantly invite herself into whatever discussion the girl is having with Mai. He supposes that he is happy for her, she has managed to bring herself closer to the two of them again, even if she lacks some of the social graces.

“You two fighting again?” Katara asks.

“No!” He answers. “Yes? I don’t know. She’s just not talking to me. But she hasn’t lit my close on fire yet, so that’s a good sign, right?”

“Well what were you talking about before she stopped talking to you?” Katara inquires.

Sokka gulps. His face might be going a shade pink. He isn’t sure if he should tell her. How the hell is he supposed to break the news that he is falling for the person who’d persistently attacked them for the longest time.

“Well?”

“I uh...she asked me if I…”

“If you…” she encourages with a hand gesture.

“If I love her.”

Katara’s mouth falls agape. “And what did you say?” She sputters, her voice a hair higher than usual.

“Nothing.” He replies. “I didn’t say anything and then she stomped--sort of, she kind of tried to stomp but her feet kept getting stuck in the snow and so she had to just walk--back to our house.”

Katara sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, giving him the impression that he is absolutely clueless. “You can’t just say nothing when someone asks you if you love them!”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Answer the question, Sokka.”

.oOo.

“Awww,” TyLee gushes and Azula has to turn away to hide the light shade of pink creeping over her cheeks. “And what did he say!?”

“He didn’t say anything, TyLee.” She crosses her arms.

“Hmmm…” She hums.

“What am I supposed to make of nothing?”

“That he doesn’t like you and you should find someone who isn’t a moron.” Mai shrugs.

“He’s not a moron. Unlike your boyfriend.” Azula grumbles.

Mai shrugs again, “all of the men on this boat are idiots.”

“I don’t know.” TyLee replies. “Maybe he didn’t reply because he’s still thinking about it. Or maybe he does love you! And he just got shy.”

“Why would he get shy?” Azula asks.

“Because you’re...you.” She replies. “You’re an intimidating person.”

And yet he has seen her bawling and shaking like a child or a cornered and wounded animal. He can’t imagine that, that is intimidating.

“And you’re pretty and smart and maybe he doesn’t think that he can match up!”

Her flattery is rather nice, but she takes it with a grain of salt. Granted, she has decided that TyLee is the prefect person to ask about this. At the very least, she is enthusiastic. Azula finds herself glad that she has chosen to try to mend things between the two of them. Though she wonders if it was a feat only made possible because there is such a large portion of her missing.

“I think that you should ask him again.” She smiles.

“And this time give him time to answer.” Mai adds in a monotone drawl.

.oOo.

She ought to do it, she ought to ask him again, or at least resume talking to him. Her mind is loud again, loud and full of dark visions as it takes her through moments she has already lived. She wants to wander in by Sokka again but she doesn’t want to leave him with the impression that she is using him. That she only speaks to him when she needs comfort. So her legs carry her back to Zuko’s cabin. As of late, when the phantom tingling in her arms worsen and the past replays itself in her nightmares, she finds herself pestering her brother. He lets her take the top bunk and talks to her until her words break off into a sleepy murmur. It isn’t the same as spending the night with Sokka but it is its own kind of reassuring. This time she doesn’t bother knocking. He is still awake and doesn’t question her as she climbs back onto the top bunk.

He gives her a few moments to settle in before asking, “what do you want to talk about tonight?”

Tonight has been ludicrously rough, her nightmares much more potent and she wants to attribute it to her hatred of the sea combined with how recently she’d relived her days in the compound. “Can you tell me about your scar?” She imagines that this is a topic that will have strength enough to keep her attention.

She hears him suck in a deep breath.

“Nevermind.” She mumbles.

“No. It’s fine, I’ll tell you.” He replies and then he goes silent again.

“Let me guess, that’s my fault too?” She asks softly.

“No!” He replies quickly and much more hushed he adds, “it was our father’s fault.”

Her brows furrow. Their father. Truth be told she hadn’t thought much of him. Hadn’t even considered how bizarre it is that she hasn’t seen either of her parents yet. There is so much going on in her mind… “why haven’t I met them yet.”

“Because Ozai--father is in prison and mom is visiting our uncle in the Earth Kingdom.”

“Did he go to prison for burning your face?”

Zuko shakes his head. “Sokka told you about the war right.”

“Parts, yes.” She answers. “He only really told me about my part in it.”

“Well it was our father who sent you out to go after me. He’s the one who…” he trails off. “I think that a lot of what you did was his fault. He was always turning us against each other.”

Azula inhales, her chest constricting slightly at that mention.

“He was evil. He’s still evil, but he’s evil in prison now. He was going to burn the entire Earth Kingdom to the ground so that he could rule over everything. And he had you go out and conquer things in his name and you. You liked it.”

Azula curls her hands into the fabric of the pillow. In and of itself it is disturbing to know. But that she had managed several successes… “what’s wrong with me?”

She can sense him going tense on the lower bunk. “I didn’t mean that. I mean…” he breaks off with a frustrated groan. “I don’t think that you’re like him. For a while I did, but you’re different now.”

This only sinks her heart further. “When we get to the Foggy Swamp, I was thinking that we can just shut the facility down, make the arrests, and be on our way. I think that I’m better off without my memories.  And besides, I’d rather not risk losing the ones I have now if something goes wrong.”

“Don’t say that.” He says.

“People like me more now, I’d rather have that. Anyways, my past doesn’t exactly sound cheerful.”

“If you’re worried about going back to the way he--father--wanted you to be I don’t think that you should. I think that everything that’s happened since you lost them will matter more to you than what came before that.”

Azula draws her legs to her chest.

“And if it helps, even before you lost your memories I realized you weren’t like him. Ozai is a lost cause. You’re more like me.” He pauses.

“Why would you say something so rude?” Azula snickers.

“Gee thanks.” He grumbles, she detects a faint trace of amusement before his tone goes serious again. “Did Sokka ever tell you what I did before making friends with Aang?”

“No.”

“Well for one thing, I burned a whole village on Kyoshi Island. It was where Sokka’s girlfriend lived. And I sent a hitman to kill them all…”

“Oh wait, he did mention that.” She mumbles more to herself. “The hit man anyways. I can’t picture you as the type to burn a whole village down. Not on purpose anyways.”

“Ha. Ha.”

She snickers again.

“My point is, our father got us both to do awful things. But I had mom and uncle. You only had him. I’m glad that he’s not around you anymore or me. Because you have a chance now.”

“I suppose that that’s good to know.” She notes, not even conveying half of the relief that is swelling in her chest. She supposes that she can’t be horrible to her core if it brings her that much comfort knowing that she hadn’t been completely unsalvageable before the Vine Facility.

“Anyways, I knew that our father was evil from the start. I was thirteen when he challenged me to an Agni Kai.”

“Agni Kai?” Azula sits up and climbs down to join him on the bottom bunk. He sits up and makes room.

“Oh right, you don’t remember what those are.” He says aloud. “It’s a one on one dual between two firebenders. It’s a fight for honor and ends when one opponent burns the other.”

Azula nods. “Father wanted to hurt you.” It isn’t a question but rather a repetition of what she already knows.

“Yeah. A grown man wanted to burn his thirteen year old son because he spoke out of turn. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t fight our father because I...still loved him. I believed in him.” He shakes his head. “And even if I could have fought him, I didn’t stand a chance.” She can see tears glistening down his cheeks and thinks that perhaps she should reach out. But she also thinks that doing so would be awkward. So instead she holds her hands in her lap and stares at her palms.

“And while I was looking up at him, begging him not to do it…” He touches his fingers to the scar. “You and uncle were there.”

She can add that to the list of things better off unmemorized.

“After that he banished me. Told me that he didn’t want to see my face again because I’m an embarrassment. You found me a few days later and were able to convince him to let me have a ship and a crew and uncle.”

“I did something good?”

He gives a soft smile and nudges her on the arm. “Don’t look so surprised. I told you that you’re not like him.”

“Our father burned you…” she trails off. Suddenly she wonders what he has done to her. Just as much, she doesn’t want to. “A man with honor wouldn’t fight a child. Or anyone significantly below his skill level.”

“You always fought me.” He points out.

“Then I must have found that you could hold your own against me. Even if you couldn’t win.” She shrugs.

“You think that I’m a good firebender?”

“I haven’t see you do it much, but if you can fight me and come out alive then you have to be at least somewhat competent.” She pauses to consider the alternative. “That or we’re both horrendously subpar.”

He laughs. “You’re not subpar.”

She stands up and heads for the ladder.

“Thanks.”

“It’s the truth. You can’t be that bad if…”

“No. For telling me that it’s father who has no honor.”

“Oh, yes, well that is also the truth.”

He laughs once more. “You’re still terrible at being comforting.” Before she can climb up he adds, “but somehow that is kind of comforting.”

“Glad that I can help?”

“If you have trouble sleeping, I’m down here.”

“Yes, I know. Good night, Zuzu.”

She hears him give an exaggerated groan. “Why is it that no even a memory wipe could erase dumb that nickname!?”

“Because it holds more power than the both of us.” She murmurs. “Good night, Zuzu.”

“Good night.”

Azula pulls the covers up to her chin. She thinks that she might just have a peaceful night after all. She only needs to sort things out with Sokka. In the meantime it is a kindness to know that she isn’t resented. That, even at her darkest she hadn’t been so truly terrible that her own brother could write her off. Again she finds herself toying with the idea of calling her memories back. She sighs and decides to put that line of thinking aside for the night and take comfort in ridiculous nicknames and potential and highly cringeworthy sibling bonding.

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Chapter 20 | Chapter 22 | AO3 link

At this point, Marinette could pick out the sound of Chat Noir landing on her balcony from the other side of a tornado, so she’s already poking her head out of the hatch before he’s even got a chance to knock.

“Are you really that keen for my ameowzing purresence?” Chat Noir grins. Marinette scolds him with a stern look for his pun before popping back down into her room so that Chat Noir can slip through to join her.

“Next time you make a horrible pun, I’m locking my door,” she says when she’s flopped on her chaise and Chat Noir’s dropping off her bed.

“Ah, but that will never happen,” Chat Noir says. “You see, princess, my puns are literary gold. I’ll never make a horrible one.”

“Some of us would beg to differ,” Marinette mumbles.

“Why are you so meeeean? If I wanted snarky insults, I’d go and see Ladybug.”

Ha. If only he knew. “I’m not the one who begged for scraps on a teenage girl’s balcony,” Marinette says. Chat Noir maturely pokes his tongue out and throws himself on the chaise next to her, and the warmth radiating from his dark leather suit is enough to set off a swarm of ladybugs in Marinette’s stomach. Whyyyyy?

“Marinette?” Black-gloved fingers snap in front of her face, jolting her out of her haze. “Everything okay up there?”

“Y-Yeah. Fine I am!”

Chat Noir’s cheeks pinken as he seems to realise that he’s essentially cuddling into her. “Sorry! Must be awkward – I know you’re still sorting yourself out –”

“Oh, don’t be such a martyr,” Marinette says and pulls him back down into her side so that she can run her fingers through his hair and turn him into purring putty. “Just because I’m not ready for a relationship doesn’t mean that I don’t want my kitty cuddles.”

“You’ve been blabbing to Ladybug,” Chat Noir says, letting out a particularly loud purr when Marinette scratches behind his fake ears. “I thought I could trust you, princess. Now she knows my weaknesses!”

“Tragic,” Marinette deadpans. After twirling a lock of golden hair around her finger, she says, “So…how’s that girl you saved today?”

“I didn’t know you cared about akuma victims,” Chat Noir says, then winces. “Not that I don’t think you care – stop melting my brain!”

Marinette snorts. “No, I get what you mean. I just…feel partly responsible for this one. If I hadn’t panicked and judged wrongly –”

“I’m sure Kagami understands,” Chat Noir says. Ah, Kagami. That’s her name. “Adrien would’ve talked to her, right? He would’ve made sure she understood that you didn’t mean to throw the decision.”

“I still could’ve abstained,” Marinette says.

“Yeah, and then it could’ve taken another two hours,” Chat Noir says. “From what I hear, Adrien and Kagami were pretty evenly matched when it comes to fencing. And I’m sure Kagami would’ve eventually come to terms with your decision without getting turned into Riposte if she was literally anywhere but Paris. It’s on Hawkmoth, not you, Marinette.”

Marinette smiles and snuggles further against Chat Noir, relishing how she’s not only allowed to cuddle with her crush, but she also knows that her crush is requited and that things will only change when she’s ready. It’s such a far cry from crushing afar and panicking over so much as seeing him on TV. “Thanks, kitty. You always know what to say.”

“Of course I do,” Chat Noir says, preening and purring when Marinette’s fingers slip under his chin and her fingernails rake across his skin. “I’m just –”

“Chat, no.”

“– purrmazing like that.”

“No. Bad kitty.” Marinette jabs his chest. “You can’t change puns up like that.”

“So, I can pun?’

Marinette purses her lips. “I’ll allow it, to spare Ladybug from having to endure them all.”

“Yes!”

.

“Are you sure about this?” Kagami Tsurugi whispers as Adrien ducks behind a wall and drags her with him. “Won’t we get in trouble?”

“It’s not our fault that Mr D’Argencourt was sick and didn’t think to tell us before class,” Adrien says. “So long as we’re back at Françoise Dupont by the time fencing class usually ends, no one will know.”

“Your bodyguard will,” Kagami says. She peeks around the corner, then darts back after a moment. “He’s been following us since we snuck out.”

“We’re not really trying to escape him,” Adrien says. “He’s just playing along. So long as he knows where I am and he can keep an eye on me, he lets me get away with a lot.”

“But…why? He must not be a very efficient bodyguard.”

“Because he’d get in trouble every time I snuck away if he didn’t,” Adrien says. “And…I think he knows this is the only freedom I get. He’s always been on my side.”

“Oh,” Kagami says softly. “That must be nice.”

Adrien frowns at her. “You don’t have a bodyguard? What about your driver?”

“We don’t have a driver. Our car is self-driving and responds to Mother’s voice, since she can’t drive herself.”

“Huh.” Adrien takes a moment to thank the heavens for Gorilla. God knows what he’d do if he was stuck with a self-driving car that wouldn’t be programmed with a shred of compassion. “Come on! While he’s not looking!”

Kagami lets out a giggle as Adrien grabs her hand and bolts down the street, weaving between the bustling Parisians who are thankfully so wrapped up in their own lives that they don’t notice who he is. Wow. Is that the first time Kagami’s laughed? It’s so…weird being able to empathise with someone, to actually know what it’s like to be in their situation rather than just sympathising from afar. And she’s so…radiant when she laughs like that, just like when Marinette laughs.

“We should go and see Marinette!” Adrien says when they skid to a halt against the front of a bakery, panting. “You said you wanted to get to know her, right?”

“Are you sure she’ll be okay with us just stopping in?” Kagami says. “Shouldn’t we call her first?”

“It’ll be a surprise!” The image of Marinette’s beaming face swims before Adrien’s eyes, tying his stomach in knots, and he desperately tries to push that picture away before his face starts flaming and Kagami realises that he’s hopelessly crushing on one of his best friends. Too late; Kagami’s narrowed her eyes at him before he’s able to banish the thought of Marinette.

“You like her,” Kagami says.

“Of course!” Adrien tries to sound more confident than he really is. “I love – she’s a girl – I mean, she’s one of my closest friends!”

Kagami rolls her eyes. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Adrien. You have romantic feelings for Marinette. Otherwise, your face wouldn’t be as red as my family car.”

Adrien groans and lets his shoulders slump. “Doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want to be with me.”

“So, you’re just going to pine from afar and never tell her?” Kagami says.

“Trust me, she’s said to my face that she wants to focus on being friends first. Especially after someone outed her crush to me in front of her.”

Kagami winces. “Ouch. My sympathies. Why don’t you try and move on, then?”

“Because…” How does Adrien explain this mess of a situation without incriminating himself as Chat Noir or making up a lie that could get back to her? “Part of me doesn’t want to. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Adrien –”

“Kagami.”

Kagami sighs. “Fine. I’ll drop it. I just think –”

“Oh my god!” someone shrieks. “It’s Adrien Agreste!”

“Shit, gotta go!” Adrien grabs Kagami’s wrist and takes off once more.

“Is life always this interesting for you?” Kagami says as they round the corner and nearly collide with a middle-aged man. They shout apologies back at him over their shoulders.

“Interesting? This is just a normal day!” Adrien says. “At least you’ve only got the crushing weight of parental expectations without getting mobbed on the streets!”

“That’s…true. Is it that obvious that my mother’s like that?”

“Considering your speech to me before you were akumatised? Kinda, yeah.”

Turning another corner takes them to the Pont des Arts bridge. Great. How the hell are they supposed to hide in such an open space? Still, Adrien and Kagami leap down to the concrete bank of the Seine, with only a few people on that level, and duck under the bridge, and Adrien sends up a feverish prayer that their pursuers don’t think to look down here.

“Where’d he go?” someone cries from above them.

“Come back, Adrien! Have my babies!”

“Maybe he went down there!”

Adrien’s heart leaps into his dry mouth. But just before he can suggest to Kagami that they keep running or even just jump into the Seine –

“It’s him! It’s Adrien!” The speaker is one of the people down at the edge of the Seine, who’s looking right at Adrien and Kagami as he speaks. Adrien’s about to start planning a slow, painful demise for this arse, but the guy looks up over his shoulder and adds, “He just doubled back!”

“Oh my god!”

“Quick, before we lose him!”

The adrenaline still coursing through Adrien’s body as the sounds of his pursuers grow fainter is probably the only thing keeping him upright at this point. Next to him, Kagami looks far less stressed than he feels; although to be fair, she hadn’t been the target of those people.

“Thank you,” Kagami says to the boy when Adrien says nothing.

“Y-Yeah. Thanks,” Adrien adds shakily. “I know I should be used to it, but it’s still terrifying.”

The boy snickers behind his hand. Adrien idly notes that his nails are painted deep black and his dark hair is dip-dyed teal and that Gabriel would have an aneurysm if Adrien ever painted his nails and dyed his hair like that. He’s the antithesis of everything that Gabriel holds dear. Dear lord, this boy is just perfect.

“I could feel your fear before you even jumped down here,” the boy says. “And you shouldn’t have to be used to it. Chasing anyone through the city and shouting for them to have babies with you is way over the line.”

“Thank god someone else thinks that,” Adrien mutters. “Uh…I’m Adrien Agreste. Not that you don’t know that – great, now I sound up myself –”

The boy snorts. His teal eyes, alight with amusement, draw Adrien in like a magnet, scrambling his brain and leaving his mind momentarily blank. “That’s okay. You’re just socially awkward.” He strums a note on his guitar, something both off and yet perfect, something that punches Adrien in the chest and leaves him momentarily fumbling for breath.

“H-How did you do that?” Adrien finally forces out when he’s able to speak. The boy smiles.

“I can hear people’s heart songs,” he says. “Yours sounds delightfully perfect but if you stop to listen to it, there are little flaws.” The boy strums a few more notes that are both the same and yet so different to what he’d played before, in a way that Adrien can’t even begin to articulate. “Small imperfections. Ones that you wouldn’t see on the surface.”

“Holy –”

“That, and Juleka also talks a lot about her classmates to me,” the boy says with a small smirk. Adrien blinks.

“Juleka? You know Juleka?”

“Of course I do. She’s my little sister.” The boy holds out a hand. “Luka Couffaine. Glad our first meeting could be so memorable.”

“I didn’t know Juleka had a brother,” is all Adrien can say. Luka’s hand is warm as he shakes it, warm and tingly, and it’s like the sun has gone behind a cloud when Adrien finally has to let go.

“I’m not surprised,” Luka says. “She’s pretty quiet until you push a guitar into her hands. And you are?”

Kagami immediately straightens and bows slightly. “Kagami Tsurugi,” she says, shaking his hand. “I’m a friend of Adrien’s, though I don’t attend Françoise Dupont.”

“We have fencing classes together,” Adrien says. “Which is where we technically should be but hey, it’s not our fault our teacher didn’t tell us he was sick.”

“I’m never sneaking out with you again,” Kagami says. “The last thing I need is for your fans to think that I’m your girlfriend. They’d tear me to shreds.”

Adrien winces. “Sorry, by the way. I didn’t think about that when I was rushing to be a rebellious teenager.”

“I don’t see why you should apologise,” Kagami says. “You didn’t ask for your fans to behave like that. But we should probably start making our way back so we’re not late.”

“Thanks again for saving our butts,” Adrien says to Luka.

“My pleasure. Any friend of Juleka’s is a friend of mine.”

Warmth pools in Adrien’s gut. “Friends? Really?”

“Of course, if you want,” Luka smiles. “And I promise I’ll never ask you to have my babies.”

Kagami makes a strange sound between a choked snort and a strangled laugh. Adrien flips her off with a sunny smile.

“I appreciate that,” he says, pulling out his phone so he can exchange numbers with Luka. “I’m too young to be a father.”

“Glad to see that you’re so responsible about it,” Luka says as he punches his number into Adrien’s phone. Adrien does the same with Luka’s phone and although he’s tempted to add Kagami’s number too, there’s no point in risking the wrath of Tomoe Tsurugi; it had been enough of a battle to get himself added to Kagami’s phone, and Tomoe wholeheartedly approves of him. “Your future wife will be lucky to have you.”

“Or husband,” Adrien blurts out. Why did he say that? It’s not like he’s ever really shown an interest in boys before, and he’s in love with Marinette…but the way Luka isn’t even fazed by that and instead just smiles is making Adrien question a lot of things about himself right now.

“Or husband,” Luka agrees. “But you won’t have either if you don’t get back in time.”

“He’s right.” Kagami grabs Adrien’s hand. “Come on, Adrien!”

“Thank you!” Adrien calls over his shoulder as Kagami tugs him towards the stone stairs leading back up to the street. Luka just waves back, still smiling, for a moment even brighter than the sun in the sky behind him.

Well, shit.

[simplelinesunfashiond]

Okay so...This got out of hand length-wise. I haven't really written for modern day Book 3 yet. But behold. Under the ominous eye of the Court, a Lord's heir improvises some intrigue to assure his and an ally's safety. AKA, Sydney may not trust Anderson far as she can throw him, but he helped her escape a crazy lady's plan to marry her off for politics, so she owes him one. And thus, the third spoke of the Triangle resolves itself in crisis management and snarky banter.

Sydney had seen him in a number of crises before, but never his own. 

She had always thought he looked young, but had guessed that was just what he was. Now she wondered. His parents, his older siblings, they had that ethereal look, they were timeless, but they weren't like him, or Eva. She could tell they were adults. She could also tell from the way the Court talked to them how much younger the twins were than the other immortals of their kind. In a way, she felt guilty for not questioning him sooner.

It had taken some effort to get things under control. Anderson was small, but not small enough to be manhandled easily when he was panicked, slipping in and out of reality and conciousness. Now, she was sitting on the cold tile, out of his line of sight so as not to startle him when he came to again. Her legs were freezing against the floor, no thanks to the dainty half-sheer toga she'd been dressed in for some stupid ritual she didn't understand. She'd managed to get Anderson's jacket bundled up under his head, hoping that would make things more comfortable for him, but she was starting to regret not borrowing it. All things considered, this certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd woken up on a bathroom floor.

When he did start to come around, it was slowly this time. No inherent panic. No fight in it. He stretched himself out, touched the floor - taking inventory of any injuries, she guessed - and eventually looked up, and then over at her.

"Ms. Thompson. Fancy seeing you here."

"You scared me," she admitted. He scoffed. "No, really," she said, a little too loud. "I may not like what you did back there, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to worry when something like...that happens." She scooted closer to offer her hand, but he sat up and made no effort to move any further for the moment. He looked around, she guessed taking stock of just where he was, and then gave her a curious look. It struck her that he might not remember everything. "You were...panicking about something. Then you passed out. Got sort of sick when you last woke up, so-"

He cut her off with a gesture, and a grim nod.

"What was that?" Sydney asked. She suspected she already knew. "What happened?"

"Just ghosts of ghosts, my dear," he said. She took that as confirmation. "I didn't try to fight you, did I?" She shook her head, and he seemed to relax a little. It wasn't entirely true. He'd tried, a little, but he hadn't managed to best her so it didn't seem worth upsetting him to mention it. He took a deep breath, then stilled, confusion written on his face. "It smells nice in here. Familiar. But nice familiar."

Sydney nodded, and got to her feet, stiff from sitting on the floor for too long. "I may have used some of our new pull around here to make a few requests. Lavender, chamomile, rose, and vanilla. Something the Daughters of the Sun seem to favor." She jerked her head to indicate her project. The pleasant scent rose with the steam from the suite's ornate bath.

"You're joking," Anderson said, as he hauled himself upright by the marble countertop, ignoring her offered hand again.

"It seemed like something you would like. And you were sweating buckets, so you could probably use it." If he was feeling himself enough to diss her attempted niceties, she wouldn't worry about cushioning her words.

"And you intended to be present for this?"

"If you passed out and drowned, I'd have to hear about it." His shoulders shifted slightly. A tinge of a laugh. So, things were okay, now. Back to normal. Or, as normal as this situation could be. "And besides, they...sort of think we're engaged."

"I really didn't think it would be that easy to convince them. People see what they want to see, in the end." *Your father, you mean?* she wondered, and rode the awkward silence for a moment.

"Well, I know what I don't want to see, so no worries, I won't peek." She turned her back, as exaggerated as she could in the Daughters' horrible silks. It earned another shadow of a laugh, and somehow, she felt like that was more of an accomplishment than anything else she'd pulled off that day.

The cold hand on her shoulder jolted her, but it was gone again in an instant.

A jumbled apology followed it, without a real explanation, but the tremble in the touch stuck with her. She let the thinnest thread of Light extend to touch him, to verify. He wasn't quite recovered from whatever he'd seen while he was out. He wouldn't be steady on his feet for a while yet. He just wasn't going to tell her that, if he could avoid it.

Still with her exaggerated motions of keeping her eyes up, she stepped into the bath, herself, arm extended to give him something to grab for balance.

He didn't have to ask her what the hell she was doing; the question was plain in his hesitance. Then, he sighed in resignation and let her pull him into the water.

"It will ruin that fabric," he pointed out.

"Good riddance, it's awful. Don't the Daughters ever get cold? Or need to go outside? I have done all my practicing so far while wearing pants, and I promise it has had no affect on my ability to use their magic."

"You're being awful nice for someone who doesn't trust me," Anderson said, then. He let her guide him by the upper arm until he was leaned back against her shoulder. She considered what to say to that. Even if they were back to their normal banter, it didn't seem right to remind him how little of a threat he really was like this. The hot water was slowly abating the shivering, but a sharp chill still jolted through him every so often. 

She raised her hand, letting the Light pool in her palm. She knew she couldn't heal someone's mind with it. He had taught her that. He had taught her everything she knew about Light, really, but that had been so pointed when he said it. She realized what that meant, now. *Don't waste your energy trying to fix me. I will either heal one day, or I won't.* She resisted the urge to press the magic through his temple, to test it herself. She had to trust him on that, at least. If it could have been done, he'd have done it by now. Instead, she wrapped her arm across his chest, letting her hand come to rest on his shoulder. There was no work done, no prodding examination, no Light sinking in. She just held it there, let it rest against slowly warming skin. *A nice sort of familiar*. He had taught her his style. His mother's style too, she guessed, and his sisters'. He leaned into it.

"If your goal is to put me to sleep, you're doing well."

She shrugged, jostling him just a little. "You probably need it. You've had a long day, pretending to want to marry me." *Facing your father, and the Shades, and the woman who banished you*.

"You really wouldn't want to marry me, anyway, there'd be nothing to gain from that."

"That's true."

He stopped, and sat up enough to shoot her a look. "Really? You're just going to agree with me?" He huffed, and turned back to settle against her again, arms folded in defiance. "I mean, come on, that's preposterous. If nothing else, I'm damn nice to look at." She laughed, ruffled his hair a little, smoothed it down with the perfumed water. "Talk to me like I'm useless. Bullshit. Just because we're not compatible doesn't mean you can't still stroke my ego."

She snorted, and barely heard his melodic giggle over the soft splash of the water.

"You're disgusting."

"And I get away with it, because this accent makes me sound *classy*." He nuzzled into her arm, and craned to look at the point where she held him by the shoulder. "Why did you stop that?"

[catflowerqueen]

Dusknoir’s Nephew

Here’s some backstory that no one asked for on Dusknoir’s eldest nephew:

It is tradition in Dusknoir’s family that the eldest child is the only one to carry on the species name—which basically means that all of Dusknoir’s younger siblings got names while Dusknoir remained “Duskull” at birth (and then of course took on his new species name upon evolution). It isn’t that they don’t care about the oldest in the family or anything—since there are plenty of families/pokemon that don’t give formal names to their children—it’s just a traditional sort of thing. The tradition was started by Duskull, who runs the Duskull Bank, and the original intent behind his decision was that he was intending for his oldest child to inherit the bank. Since he was courting a female duskull at the time things were starting to get shaky time-wise, he knew his children would be duskull as well and he thought that that interactions with patrons would be easier if the person who ran the bank shared the same name—and this was even before everyone’s sanity took a major dive. Considering the location of the bank, and some things I’ve said in my stories, he was actually able to keep the bank running for quite a while after time stopped. And even when the situation deteriorated enough that it just didn’t make sense to keep the bank running as an actual bank, he still kept hope alive that one day things would go back to normal. Which it did, eventually, but that only happened after the “higher being” that Dialga alluded to stepped in (so in that sense, it technically never stopped being a bank at all because of weird time/space reasons that aren’t really important to this post). 

In any case, despite the fact that it wasn’t really running as a bank, his family still kept up the tradition up to Dusknoir’s time, and the quickly branching family did so as well—meaning that his siblings, who were given formal names, left their eldest children unnamed. This remained the case even when the children in question weren’t duskull—as is the case with Dusknoir’s eldest nephew.

Now, an interesting thing to note about Dusknoir’s family—given their origins, and how messed up everything was, Dusknoir is the first one of his family in generations to actually evolve at all, let alone make it all the way to the end of the species line (which, honestly, is something that Duskull should have really considered when it came to the bank, and starting this tradition in the first place. Maybe he had never planned to evolve, but he probably had friends and family members who had done so before all the evolution spots suddenly stopped working. And up to that point, people probably assumed things would eventually get fixed and go back to normal—Teddiursa, for one, had apparently been preparing to evolve for quite some time before the option was ripped away. Yet he never stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, a family member down the line would leap at the chance of evolution. Not to mention what would happen in the case of a descendant marrying a different species/adopting a child not of the dusknoir-line. It’s all well and good to name a bank after yourself/your family, but when you’re going by your species name… it doesn’t really work out all that well if the entire reason you did so was to keep up species association throughout multiple generations of your family. This is why it was smart of Persian in Rescue Team to call the bank “Felicity Bank.” Is it harder to remember? Maybe. But it’s also a less awkward name when someone down the line spawns a dragonair who takes over the family business while the marshtomp next door is stuck in a store called “The Wigglytuff Club.” Anyways…). 

This normally wouldn’t have been a problem, and his family likely would have been ecstatic that he found a way to evolve if not for the way in which he did so—i.e, he went to Primal Dialga. For various reasons, people who knew about Primal Dialga typically did not like him. For the remnants of Treasure Town specifically, things were even more complicated. On the one hand, his interest in the area meant that others typically left them alone, so it was a relatively safe to live, and kept up something of a functional society even in the midst of madness. This is why Dusknoir, of all pokemon, is the only one of the pokemon from the dark future (that canon would have made us personally interested in) to have what one would classify as a “normal” childhood. On the other hand… that same interest, coupled with Primal Dialga’s typical instability and irrationality, also meant that he often got annoyed by the pokemon living there and would often attack the place (or at least the closest he could get to the place without outright doing damage to it) in anger/annoyance. Not to mention that a lot of people blamed him for the entire situation with time being out of whack in the first place. So while they were forced to tolerate him, they held no love for him—especially where their sense of morals were concerned. So, when they found out Dusknoir—then Duskull/Dusclops—had gone to him, trading himself for power… it didn’t matter that he ultimately did it to keep them all safe, and keep Dialga from attacking the area. His family took it as a personal betrayal and banished him. Or, at least… his parents did. 

The thing is, while Dusclops—who they had no way of knowing had actually evolved into Dusknoir by the time things were fixed—became a cautionary tale in the family from then on… no one really knew what, exactly, he’d done, since only his mother got the full explanation from him, and while she did share it with the other adults—or at least with her husband—no one bothered to share the whole story with his siblings, cousins, or any of the children. So, while some of them may have gotten enough pieces to put together the entire story, by the time it filtered down to the younger kids, most of them probably only heard that grandma/auntie/whatever Dusknoir’s mother’s relation to them was had gotten mad at her son and banished him for evolving. And even if she did intend to tell them what actually happened fully… it isn’t the type of thing you want to tell young children—especially when they aren’t going to understand that the bigger issue was the moral implications of it all, when the situation is complicated and Dialga is, actually, keeping his word not to attack.

From that point, the kids are going to have a very negative view of evolution. They’re going to be afraid that if they evolve, their family will hate them—maybe even attack them. The thing is… because of the world they grew up in, they’re going to have no idea how evolution even works. Considering how long its been since anyone in the family had the ability, the adults may not even know themselves. And even if they did know, it isn’t like they’re going to tell the kids and get their hopes up for something that would likely never happen. (and, yes, I know it does happen, since there are fully evolved pokemon in the future. But the circumstances are definitely going to be different than the usual methods, so it’s going to be rare, and people might not actually know what causes it anymore—barring circumstances such as Dusknoir’s and Grovyle’s.) Since no one bothers to explain it, this is, unfortunately, going to carry on into the changed the future. Which is not good.

Now, Dusknoir’s family is in kind of a strange situation in the new future. Because of how safe the area was, most of them are still alive at the time the future is changed, and most of them would have been born anyways had time continued as it should have. Maybe not all of the extended family, but a majority of them would have. This means that they are put in the situation where they have the weird, sort of doubled-memory thing going on where they remember two sets of history. The thing is, though, in order to keep things mostly making sense, Dusknoir’s new backstory in the changed future is pretty much the same, just… maybe slightly lessened a bit. As in, his mom still got angry that he went to serve Dialga here—despite many other people considering it to be a very prestigious and honorable position—but it was more for the fact that—due to Paula’s actions in the past and spreading the story about what actually happened—she feels like Dialga still bears a lot of responsibility for the mess because he should have been keeping a better eye on the condition of his tower/the world in general and nipped the situation in the bud before it got that bad to begin with. But considering the changed circumstances, as well as time and distance from the problem in general… she probably cooled off a lot on this in the meantime. Especially when looking around and seeing how well-off her family actually was this whole time, as compared to a lot of other people. Getting some distance from the problem, and getting to think about things and how awful of a situation everyone was in… well, she still might be upset at her son, and think that it was the wrong thing to do, but… she still loves him. She always did. And maybe after a while, she’d even wanted him to come home—even when the future was still dark. But he took her words seriously, and never did.

…And, of course, no one is bothering to explain this to the kids, and many of them are also struggling with the new changes and doubled memories, and everything. And they might be afraid of evolution even more now, since the possibility for it actually happening is much greater, and now their grandma’s dislike of it seems even more irrational. Also… they still don’t actually know what triggers it. 

Cue one day, a charmander—the eldest son of a charmander mother and duskull father, who happens to be the direct younger brother of Dusknoir (who everyone assumes is still Dusclops, because for all that Dialga might be more well-known, it isn’t like he’s going around and announcing who, exactly, is working for him, and most people encountering Primal Dialga directly weren’t going to live to tell the tale, nor were his underlings likely to directly announce who they worked for—assuming the pokemon around them were lucid enough to even care)—stumbling upon Luminous Spring/some other evolution location one day, having no idea what it does and not really paying attention beyond the “those that seek awakening” part of the mysterious voice’s spiel (because, honestly, that would probably be terrifying for an unaware child, to just hear something like that being directly beamed into their brain without prompting), saying “yes,” and then evolving. Or maybe he doesn’t stumble upon a spring—maybe he somehow manages to stumble upon something else that triggers evolution which is more similar to the method Dusknoir or Grovyle used, and which doesn’t exactly ask first before getting on with things. The result is that now you have a young charmeleon who, due to a series of miscommunications, thinks that his family is going to hate him, perhaps even hurt him, because they hate evolution, and he’s now evolved.

 There’s no way he’s going to go home like this, but he knows enough that if he makes it to the New Planetary Investigation Team’s base—which is being newly constructed in response to all the weird time issues that “suddenly” popped up now that the world has reached the point where the old and new futures are now caught up with each other—that he’ll be safe—at least for a while. Lots of pokemon go there who need help, and he’s heard that it’s run by some pokemon who have evolved. 

The thing is… remember how no one knew that Dusclops had become Dusknoir? Well, by that same token… Dusknoir had no idea that his younger brother had married a charmander, much less that they had a son together. So… when these two meet after a severely exhausted, sick, and injured Charmeleon makes it to the New PIT base, they have no idea they are related. Cue shenanigans wherein the two of them find out that they strangely have a lot in common with one another, and Charmeleon—who refuses to tell them where he comes from but is adamant that he’s fearful of going back (a story which is unfortunately common nowadays, with things like doubled memories and general struggles with the changes meaning that, even if things are objectively better, there’s still a lot of struggling and healing going on, and people trying to make new lives for themselves)—takes over a lot of organizing and managerial duties, since Grovyle obviously has no idea how to run an entire base and Dusknoir—who does actually have a lot of the training for it—is too busy being Dialga’s right hand pokemon and wrangling the Sableye Gang to effectively manage things on his own. (Not to mention the fact that he, Grovyle, and Celebi are trying to juggle the creation of a base along with their own doubled memory issues and grief over the fact that they think Laura is dead). After all, as part of the Duskull Bank lineage, he’s been taught a lot about things like numbers and running a bank—and in this new future, it was more or less expected that he would be the one to take over the bank when he was old enough, despite not actually being a duskull. 

Thing is, though, his worried parents back home have no idea what happened to him, or that he actually ran away from home. And they are contending with fears compounded by memories of what could happen to a child who never made it back home after an errand when the future was still dark. And the most likely place to go for help in such an instance… is the New PIT base. Meaning that Dusknoir is going to get a family reunion with his brother—including a few days’ worth of bonding as they try to convince Charmeleon that it is perfectly safe for him to come home, the issue was never about evolution in general, and so on and so forth. It may or may not work right away, but the eventual result is going to be a reconciliation between Dusknoir and the rest of his family, and Charmeleon deciding that he’d like to stay with his uncle anyways because he actually likes helping to run the New PIT base better than the bank, and the best way to keep an eye on Dialga and make sure he’s actually doing his job is to stay relatively close to him, right? Also, he would feel awkward running the Duskull Bank when he obviously isn’t a duskull. Sorry, however many greats-grandfather Duskull, that’s just how things work.

 Now, whether or not Dusknoir actually tells any of his family members that he actually met the original proprietor of Duskull Bank—because while everyone is eventually going to realize that Grovyle is the same Grovyle from Paula’s story, she may not have actually told people about Dusknoir or the sableyes involvement. Considering that her major focus was on making sure her friends got remembered and that this sort of thing never happened again, she might not have gone into the whole “they got chased into the past” thing in favor of the “hey, these pokemon had to come from the future and save us because we forgot how Time Gears worked” bits. Yeah, the pokemon in the guild and Treasure Town obviously would have cared about the entire story—since they actually knew Laura and Dusknoir personally—but I don’t think that anyone who wasn’t already involved would have really cared that much. Even if she did tell that part to everyone she met, I can see his involvement getting lost very easily since, again, no one else probably cared about that bit—not to mention the fact that when Laura eventually came back, along with some other time-jumping shenanigans going on with other pokemon later—things would have gotten even more muddled and confusing that it was just easier to stick to the main story and important parts, which is that they need to keep an eye on stuff like Temporal Tower, because otherwise stuff like that is going to happen again, and no one should have to struggle with the very real fear of being erased from reality itself considering that basically no one knew how it was prevented in the first place, and while the people in the new timeline are happy to still be alive, they can attest to the fear and hopelessness of the situation they were in, and the ending they got is still no walk in the park. The point is… his family probably has no idea he was involved at all, since they don’t actually know what Primal Dalga was actually having him do, and, for various reasons—least of all the very obvious grief he’s currently going through—no one wants to ask. Dusknoir probably wouldn’t bring it up of his own volition anyways (mostly due to a mix of embarrassment and having other, more important things to deal with—like the living family who is right in front of him). 

Besides, his family has more important questions to wonder about—like whether or not the sableye and/or Grovyle are technically part of the family now, given the way Dusknoir acts around them… which, of course, brings up its own awkwardness. 

Although… given some of the things that are slated to happen in later parts of The World’s Treasure, as well as the fact that Dusknoir likely told Laura about his childhood home at some point (or, even if he didn’t, she might get flashes of him talking to the Little Imp about it—since we know for sure that he told her, and even brought her within viewing distance)… it’s entirely possible that Duskull himself might find out about this link to his descendant at some point or another. He may even leave something behind for him to be found at a later point in time…

[royaltealovingkookiness]

ATLA fic rec master-list

A place to organize the ATLA fanfic I like.

I tend to like Zuko-centric stuff, and stories that focus not exclusively on romance (though I do read many different ships as well). As it will become apparent, my taste is rather eclectic, so there can be things in it for everyone. 

Most links are to AO3, I just prefer it that much to the layout of ffnet.  Also, if I haven’t tagged someone in Tumblr correctly, please give me a shout.

General AUs / Gaang/ adventure (various ships)

The Worst Prisoner  by @emletish-fish  (WIP) (Zutara) - in this AU starting already from S1, Zuko becomes friends with the Gaang much, much sooner, which means there is lots of amazing 

Zuko’s Tiny Dilemma by @botherkupo (slight Zutara) S1 Zuko agebending story featuring Iroh as a teapot!  Tiny, grumpy Zuko gets the Mumtara treatment and has great Gaang content. It sweet and funny. Now with an Azula-centric spin-off No Returns, No Refunds

The Undying Fire series by @botherkupo  -  (there are some ships, but the main focus is Gen) This is an epic Zuko is a firehealer, AU starting with The Blue Spirit, and spanning through each season. Extremely good, lots of Gaang focus, great Aang and Zuko friendship vibes and so much more. I don’t want to spoil it, other than, if you haven’t read it, go read it now!

Another Brother by @awesomeavocadolove    (Gen, WIP) Zuko is adopted by Hakoda, grows up as WaterTribe, as another sibling of Sokka and Katara. 

The Avatar Makes Three by @awesomeavocadolove (Gen, WIP) - Aang loses, but before he dies, he divides the Avatar spirit between Zuko, Katara and Toph.

Ozymandias, King of Kings by @Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought (WIP) - (Zuko/Sokka) This is a pretty dark AU, where instead of exile, Zuko was sent to a work camp before he’s freed by Aang and the others. The Zuko of this story is a pretty traumatized fellow, who is simply sick of everything. 

Southern Lights by @colourwhirled - (WIP, it’s Zutara, but it’s so much more). An AU world, where the Avatar has disappeared, the empire won the war. Iroh sets up a specialized unit with a chill airbender, a waterbending prodigy, a run away earth-bender and a banished prince.  There is politics, intrigue, adventure, cross-bending, and while the world is different the characters remain very recognizable.)  

In His Shoes by @awesomeavocadolove (Zuko/Sokka) It’s a bodyswap AU in Ba Sing Se. I love Ba Sing Se era Zuko and I love any AU where the Gaang sees this version of him. 

We Ourselves Must Walk the Path by @winterskywrites  (Gen) - short S3 AU where the Gaang really takes Zuko as prisoner in The Western Air Temple.

Fight by Electrons (Gen, WIP ) Zuko chooses differently in Ba Sing Se - now he’s the Gaang’s tour-guide to the Fire Nation. Lots of world-building around the Fire Nation. The story is on hiatus, but it’s still well-worth a read.

Unchained Melody by @awesomeavocadolove (WIP) (Zuko/Sokka), Sokka is stuck in spirit form, only Zuko can see him, S1 AU where Zuko and spirit-form Sokka are forced to hang out together. I mean how could it be wrong?

Little Zuko v the World by @muffinlance (Gen, WIP) Zuko finds Aang when they are both 12 in this S1 AU, which is written with a sweet humour. 

Fate Deferred by @catie-does-things  (WIP, Zutara) In this story Aang sleeps for another ten years before Zuko and Katara find him. It’s a story of Dadko and Momtara taking Aang to get his training in a world that ended up in a very different way after Sozin’s comet. It weaves together past and present masterfully and it’s as fun to follow the new adventures as it is to follow the past story of Zuko and Katara and see how things ended up as they are.

A Tale of Ice and Water by @soopersara (WIP) (pre-Zutara) - a canon-close AU featuring Avatar Katara, who still finds Aang in the ice. 

Zutara

Frozen @Aris Merquoni   - The ultimate Zuko gets captured at the North Pole fic. 

The Descent @chromeknickers  - S1 AU - Katara goes down to the spirit world to drag Zuko back to the living. A cranky waterbender, a pissed-off pony-tailed spirit and a very vivid spirit world. 

The Fifth Coloumn @chromeknickers (post-series Assassin AU) Katara is imprisoned by a secret society. A mysterious assassin infiltrates them. This has some dark / mature themes,  but a fantastic story overall.

Once Around the Sun  by Eleventy7 An amazing post-series eventual Zutara story, focused on Katara, Zuko and Azula. It’s a journey, both inside and out and it is amazing. Soul-searching, bonding, changing, adventure.

Mending Wounds by  FictionIsSocialInquiry  S2 AU, post-Chase. While lost in the Foggy Swamp, searching for her brother and her Avatar, Katara is haunted by visions of the Fire Nation's disgraced prince. Visions of peace after war, visions of honour and secrets...Katara has some interesting visions in the Swamp)

Stalking Zuko by @emletish-fish  Oldie but goldie, Zuko joins the Gaang, Katara takes up stalking. Sweet, funny Zutara fic from the Western Air Temple days.

I Don’t Speak Meow Language by @botherkupo   (Boogum)  Ba Sing Se-era, Zuko is a tea-server, Katara is a feisty cat AU - sweet, sweet silliness (I adore any fic where anyone from the Gaang gets to see up-close and personal, the sweet, awkward mess tea-shop Zuko is and you can’t get much closer than being a cat)

The Little Adentures of Katara (and One Giant Prince) by @botherkupo (WIP) An early S3 AU where a tiny Katara is stuck with her big princely saviour. I love this one because it gives a rare glimpse into Zuko’s palace life through Katara’s eyes, at the time when Zuko returns to the Fire Nation.  

so let us melt, and make no noise by littleloststar - a very moody AU, where Zuko is haunting for the last waterbender and Katara lives alone in an ice-palace. It feels like a Nordic myth with swirling snow and lots of darkness and ice. 

Fire Nation Royal Family

Lovable by LadyCharity (Zutara) A very emotional post-series Zuko & Azula story, which is also a Zutara story.

Azula’s Search by crowleyhouseplant (series) (slight TyZula)This story is just my absolute favourite post-series Azula-centric story, featuring an epic Azula/Mai/TyLee/Suki roadtrip to look for clues about Ursa. There is a little background Maiko and TyZula, but it is mostly about Azula’s road to redemption.

The Suns Inside of Us by @crowleyhouseplant   - (WIP) this is a sequel to Azula’s Search as she keeps searching her lost firebending, and perhaps her redemption, as she’s trying to figure out her place in the post-series reality, her relationship with Zuko, Mai, Ty Lee and others, but above all, herself.

Call “Uncle” by @jaggedcliffs  - (one-shot, Gen) The Gaang slowly adopts Iroh as everyone’s uncle.

Decorum by @sometimeswarrior (Gen) writes many good Iroh-centric one-shots. This one with Iroh & Ozai after the agni kai is my favourite.

stained in tea-colours by sangi - (one-shot, Gen) After the War, Azula eventually comes to live in Ba Sing Se with Iroh. A soulful story about Iroh, Azula and Zuko, and all the wounds they carry and the ties that bind them. It is a fantastic take on post-series Azula and her relationship with Iroh. Sangi has many great one-shots on the Fire Nation Royals, and they are really worth checking out.

There All the Honour Lies by @shastafirecracker (Gen) Iroh & Zuko oneshot, about the immediate aftermath of the Agni kai

our curse by @gaynasas and the last dragon by @runrundoyourstuff (Gen) OK, these are very dark, but very good takes on what would have happened if Ozai made a different decision about Iroh’s fate post S-2. Check out the tags before reading!

Choices by @catie-does-things  (Gen) Very interesting one-shot looking at Aang’s decision to spare Ozai’s life from the perspective of Zuko who now has to decide his fate.

Bloodline by monpetitpois (Gen) Multi-generation history of the Fire Nation Royals starting with Sozin to Izumi. It’s well written and in character and has a lovely forcus on Zuko’s and Izumi’s relationship. Character-focused, canon-compliant.

Zuko-centric (various ships & friendships)

the beginning of a new and brighter birth by  @captainkirkk (aloneintherain) (Gen) My favourite take on post-series Zuko becoming Fire-Lord. None of that comic nonsense. Very solid political plot, lots of heart and really it’s just the story that had to be told.

The Problem With Zuko by avocadolove (Gen) AU where Lu Ten didn’t die, and Zuko is just an overlooked lesser prince. He is put in charge of imprisoning Aang and his companions.

The Revenant by @achievement-bender (Gen) Zuko helps the Gaang, but in a very different way. A sad, but so good, Ghost!Zuko story. (check out the rest of their stuff - I also love Catch and Release, which is an AU where the Blue Spirit gets captured by Zhao

ribs by @gaynasas (oneshot) (Gen) There are simply not enough Zuko & Aang friendship stories in the world. This one is a great one about bonding over firebending and learning about Zuko’s scars. All of her stuff is very well written and worth reading.

a night at the theatre by @captainkirkk  (one-shot) (Gen) Fire Lord Zuko meets the Ember Island Players

A Candle to a Dragon by @achievement-bender  (WIP) (Gen) Non-bender Zuko AU. Wow, what a ride with a bookish, sweet, heartbroken Zuko, training with Piandao as he’s trying to figure out who he is without bending in a family of prodigies. 

Heartlines by @kuchee  (WIP) Zuko loves Katara. Katara loves Zuko. Aang loves Katara. Katara loves Aang. Aang loves Zuko. Zuko loves Aang. It doesn’t have to be a love triangle if everyone has two hands? A lovely Zuko/Katara/Aang OT3 with lots of pining set during a post-series Earth Kingdom natural disaster.

Antebellum by @veliseraptor (Gen) A Zuko & Aang friendship oneshot (did I mention I have a thing for these? Set during the Western Air Temple days.

Towards the Sun by @muffinlance - (Gen, WIP) Zuko is Fire Lord AU  - Zuko got imprisoned on the Day of the Black Sun, so never joined the Gaang. After Ozai’s defeat, he becomes Fire Lord by default. So when the Gaang and Iroh show up to hammer out peace, things get complicated. (WIP)

Home We’ll Go by themanofmanyhats - (Gen) This is a post-war take on Zuko’s path crossing again with Lee and his family from Zuko Alone. What can I say? Post-war Earth Kingdom reveals are my jam.

there is fire in me by @suzukiblu  - (Gen) - Firebender!Jet with Ba Sing Se era Zuko and Sokka makes for a very unlikely, but great bonding story

Modern AUs

Pulse by @isnt_it_pretty  I rarely read modern AUs, but this one caught my eye. It is set in a modern era, but the characters feel really on spot. Warning! it’s super angsty

Welcome Heat by @cowlicklesschick  - (Zutara, Sukka) firefighter Zuko and pre-med Katara, with a good side helping of sweet Sokka & Suki romance. It’s fluffy with just the right amount angst, and a reimagined modern world where all the characters fit right in.

---

[takaraphoenix]

Season 4 Finale Fix-It Fic: Who Tells Your Story

Quentin blinked, feeling very disoriented. What had happened...? There was something vague, in the back of his mind. Screams and something... He looked around wondrously. He didn't know where he was, but he had the feeling that this wasn't where he had last been.

"Quentin Coldwater. Welcome to the underworld."

Ah. That was it. That was the thing that kept escaping him. He had died. Everett had interrupted them in the mirror world, he had been too startled to destroy the monster in time and then things exploded. Had he done it? Had he saved his friends?

"Your friends are alright", assured the man with the very pleasant voice.

Quentin tilted his head and looked at him. "Who... are you?"

"I'm Hades. King of the underworld."

"Oh", nodded Quentin, frowning a bit.

He was still very disoriented and his thoughts were swirling too fast for him to even grasp them. Hades gently guided him to sit down. Odd. Well, wasn't that just his life? Odd.

"You died killing the monster for good", stated Hades and leaned back in his own seat, hands crossed on his lap. "You have a choice now."

"Choice?", echoed Quentin.

His tongue felt heavy with all of the questions on his mind. What with his friends? Were they alright? Truly alright? Magic. The library still kept magic limited. What about Fillory? And his mother. He was dead. She had just lost his father, even if they had been divorced. And Eliot. Eliot.

"You died a hero's death", explained Hades, offering Quentin a card – a ticket. "You earned the privilege to move on to Elysium. An honor reserved to truly good people."

"So I... did something brave? I didn't just... finally find a way to kill myself?"

The look Hades offered him was not quite amused. "You earned this, your death was a hero's death. However, I have a choice to offer you. You slayed the monster that killed my wife, so I personally owe you a debt of gratitude. Elysium will still be there when you die at an old age. What I am offering you is something I only very rarely hand out. A get out of the underworld free card."

Quentin blinked and turned his ticket around once, to find it changed into a white card, with the small symbol of Pluto in one corner and elegant writing reading get out of the underworld free. Very... direct. But in his current state, Quentin kind of appreciated that.

"You are a hero, Quentin Coldwater", stated Hades slowly. "And I think that your destiny has not yet been fulfilled. There are many things left for you to do. People are waiting for you."

Quentin frowned at that. "Really?"

He hadn't truly felt like that lately. He felt like since the quest for the seven keys, he had grown apart from the others. Eliot had been... possessed. He hadn't seen actual Eliot since the castle at the end of the world. Everyone else had been so busy with their own drama and their own quests and Quentin had kind of been stuck babysitting the monster. Which had hurt. Because it had Eliot's face and... everything that had happened between him and Eliot and everything that hadn't happened between him and Eliot and he was just so confused.

A large part of him had wished for Margo, wished to sit down together and talk. Or even to go with her and try to help, but Margo had been in Fillory and with Fen and Josh, working on ways to bring back Eliot, without him.

Penny 23 was still very much a stranger to Quentin and he seemed too engrossed in some kind of love-triangle or something with Kady and Julia. Kady, well, Quentin had never been close to.

Julia had been there, but not... Well, she had enough on her own mind, huh? She had no time to sit there and listen to Quentin telling her about the conflicting feelings he had for Eliot and for this situation with the monster, or to talk about how incredibly betrayed he had felt by Alice, or how much the death of his father affected him.

And Alice, Alice was still so complicated. For the most part, he had kept his distance to her. Though they had managed to rekindle their friendship, to a certain capacity, it was still... awkward.

Who was there? Who really... needed him? He had barely gotten anything important to do this time.

He had been who brought them all together, he had been the one with the knowledge about Fillory, he had been a king of Fillory for a while. He had held them together during their quest for the seven keys and somehow, he had thought that after that, things could be different.

Part of him had thought that after that, him and Eliot could live in Fillory, together as kings – they were still kings, weren't they, even if Margo was High King, had been High King? There had always been four rulers in Fillory. The life they had shared together just weighed too heavy on him, the memories of decades spend with Eliot. They had raised a child – his child – together. And being hit by this life, this... happiness... he thought maybe he could have it now too. Maybe, after this monster was slayed, he could actually have this... living out his life with someone who made him happy, with someone who supported him even when he wasn't happy.

But Eliot had rejected him and then Eliot had been possessed and now Quentin was... dead. But Eliot had said – well he had been rather out of it and only temporarily in control – he had talked about peaches though? He had talked like he wanted that too, wanted to try. And now they couldn't even try because Quentin was dead.

Strange. For so many years, he had contemplated what it would be like to be dead. Had wished to be dead too. And now that he actually was dead, he found himself oddly... hung up on life.

"Can I give you a piece of advise?", asked Hades.

Right. Quentin wasn't alone. He was in the underworld, with the king of the underworld. Unreal.

"...Yes, I'd appreciate that", nodded Quentin slowly.

"I just lost my wife. The love of my life", stated Hades. "And when a god dies, there is no afterlife. I will never see her again. If you think you have even the faintest chance to find love in life, you should choose life, because death will always be there to wait for you."

Death will always be there to wait for you. Huh. That was probably right. He would, if he went back to life now, die again and be here again and he could still move on then.

"There are just... so many things, so many questions I still have", admitted Quentin. "Julia, she lost her magic and her godhood – she is my best friend, my oldest friend, I can't leave her like that. And Alice, she probably feels guilty about my death. Margo. And... And... Eliot."

"So you have made your choice then", stated Hades with an amused looking smile.

/break\

Quentin smiled, though it was a reluctant expression as he sat next to Julia, his legs drawn up. She had cried, when he had approached her. Then she had hugged him. And then cried some more. After she was done crying, she had shown him the card-trick – had shown him that she apparently still had her magic somehow. So here he was... maybe useless after all.

"I just thought, I had to come back to help you deal with losing your magic", whispered Quentin.

"Guess I'm like a... magical cockroach, huh? Can't be killed, not even my magic can", replied Julia and tilted her head. "I suppose I'm back on my quest to regain my godhood then."

"Need help with that?", asked Quentin, resting his chin on his knees.

The smile on Julia's lips was warm and the look in her eyes was understanding – like she understood more than Quentin, which was probably true. "I think you should... you should follow your own path for a change, Q. You were so helpful for everyone, keeping everyone together, putting everything else before yourself. I think it's time for you to be selfish, Q. You were so excited to find Fillory and I know, I know it disappointed you – but maybe it's up to you to make it what it should be, what you wanted it to be. You're still a king of Fillory, aren't you?"

"I... don't know", hummed Quentin thoughtfully. "Maybe? I was barely at the castle during our reign anyway and then we were overthrown by Tick and Margo got elected High King, but now she's banished too... honestly, I have no idea what my place in Fillory even would be."

"Then maybe you should go and find out", suggested Julia, nudging him gently. "After your... After we said goodbye to you, we parted ways. Margo and Eliot went to Fillory, you know. To find out if Margo could get unbanished and I think Eliot is just looking for some... distance."

Quentin hummed at that and turned to look away, stare up at the moon. "He's been through a lot. Being possessed by the monster. Does he... remember what the monster did?"

"No. He was inside a mind-palace, he says", replied Julia and shook her head. "It was traumatic, but for the most part he was... safe in there, safe from the monster. That's what I overheard at least. Him and me, we were never close, so he didn't tell me much. But he... I think what truly hit him, even more than the possession, was losing you. He was so devastated, Q."

"Mh", grunted Quentin, pressing his lips flat together.

Maybe. Eliot had seemed so excited, like he wanted something – anything. Him.

/break\

He found Margo and Eliot in their cottage. Somehow, it was surreal for Quentin to be here now. He hadn't really been here in a while. He... still hadn't graduated. All he had wanted was to study at Brakebills but somehow, classes and a degree had just... slipped away from him.

"I just can't believe he's gone, Bambi."

"I know", whispered Margo back, holding onto Eliot.

Quentin just stood there for a moment. He still felt rather disconnected from his new body – thank you, Hades – but also if he was being honest with his emotions. Too much had happened. There was so much to feel and he just... didn't even know where to begin to feel.

"I couldn't even actually tell him anything", sobbed Eliot into Margo's arms.

Feeling too much like he was eavesdropping, Quentin stepped into the room, making enough noise to draw their attention. "Uh... Hello? Or, what do you say in this situation...? I'm... back?"

"Q... Quentin?"

Both Margo and Eliot looked up at him, shock written all over their features as they took him in like he was a ghost. Which, admittedly, he was to them. They knew he had died. He had died.

"Turns out Hades wasn't a big fan of the monster, what with him killing Hades' wife and all, so he expressed his gratitude by... giving me a second chance?", offered Quentin in explanation.

"Don't play with me", warned Eliot, voice shaky as he pointed a finger at Quentin. "If you're just a-a hallucination, or some... magic trick, or something, I am in no state for that."

"I'm me. The real me. I'm... back. For good. Or, well, until the next time I die. Which, hopefully, will be quite some in the future", replied Quentin, lifting both hands up. "I'm real, Eliot. I'm not a hallucination or anything. I'm back. And hey – it's not like I'm the first of us to survive dying."

He cracked the smallest grin, less out of humor and more out of a strange sense of giddiness. Eliot was right there. The real, actual Eliot. Eliot, in the flesh, with his mind. The past months with monster – with this evil creature posing as Eliot. But this one was the real one. Quentin could see it in his eyes, in the way he carried himself, could hear it in his voice.

"Eliot", whispered Quentin, voice soft. "I'm here. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

They walked toward each other slowly, on shaking legs. Eliot's hand was shaking as it reached out for Quentin's face, carefully cupping his cheek. Tears were still running down Eliot's cheeks as he touched Quentin. And then, the next moment, he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Quentin, hugging him like he never wanted to let go again.

"You didn't give up on me", whispered Eliot into Quentin's neck. "Bambi told me. They wanted to give up on me but you kept pushing and believing and... I wouldn't be here without you. And when I woke up, I thought... but you weren't there and you died. You died like that and I never could tell you—thank you, for not giving up on me, for fighting for me."

All Quentin could do was nod and pull Eliot closer to him. And in that moment, he was glad to be alive. Feeling Eliot against him, his warmth, his everything, after all those months of trying to get Eliot back. He couldn't imagine being anywhere but here. How could he have chosen to move on when there was so much left unsaid and undone? There was so much more he had to do.

"I... heard you guys want to go back to Fillory?", asked Quentin, voice muffled by Eliot's shoulder as he was still being hugged like he would dissolve if Eliot let go. "Got room for one more?"

"Of course, Q", offered Margo gently, standing next to them and looking torn.

She wasn't big on emotions and she felt like intruding on this moment – but this was Q. She knew she had been very focused on Fillory and on bringing Eliot back, but out of everyone on this fucking quest, after Eliot, Quentin had mattered the most to her. The three of them, they had been through a lot and it had brought them all closer. Beyond the high-as-a-kite threesome. Quentin turned toward her with what was the most watery smile she had ever seen before he pulled her into the hug with them and regardless of how strong she was and how much she could contain her emotions, in that moment she didn't want to. Q was alive.

"Let's go to Fillory together and fuck that bitch up", laughed Margo, feeling drunk on relief.

/break\

Quentin had gone and talked to Alice too before they left, before they packed up. Yes, they could go back to getting their degree – but somehow, they had moved past that. And out of everyone from their group, the three of them had been the most drawn toward Fillory. Quentin knew that was where his path lead. What Julia had said to him was true. Fillory was meant to be something different, he had dreamed of something different – so it was up to him to make it something different. They had gone to rule this country multiple times at this point, but as soon as they were in power, some quest had thrown them off and they had never actually managed to do anything.

This was it though. This was the end of the line. The Beast had thrown them into a chain-reaction, he was followed by Reynard, then they had killed a god and had to fix magic, the quest of the seven keys, the monster at the end of the world – but this was it. Ending that one had not pushed over the next pillar to fall. They had done it, they had finally finished their quest.

They could now actually change Fillory. Make it better. Make it the place Quentin always had dreamed of living at. He turned a little to look at Eliot and Quentin next to him and grinned.

"What? What's with that look, Q?", asked Eliot confused.

"We make quite the Golden Trio", chuckled Quentin.

"I'm clearly the badass sidekick. So that must make Eliot the love-interest", stated Margo.

It made Eliot stumble and Margo snort in amusement. She rolled her eyes and made a show of walking ahead, giving Eliot and Quentin some space. They had not quite yet... talked. They had talked and packed and left together, but not quite talked about what... mattered.

"I was a coward", stated Eliot, decidedly looking ahead and not at Quentin. "When you... When we... The life we had. It was too much, when I started remembering it. You know me, I'm a party boy. I rarely do serious relationships and the last I had ended in a bloody murder after my boyfriend got possessed. And that life – that life we had – it was so... domestic and... normal. It was... scary. Because it was more than I ever thought I'd have. You and me and our... son. And when you asked me to give us a try, it felt like you were asking me to give you all of that and I knew I couldn't."

"I didn't...", started Quentin with a frown. "I didn't mean to ask for all of that. I asked for you."

"I know. I know that now. But back then? It was too much and too scary and I was a coward, afraid of my own feelings. But then... everything happened. While the monster... I thought a lot about myself, I reevaluated my life-choices, the worst of me, the best of me. And I thought of what I wanted and I want... you. I want you, Q. That's all I want. Just... you. Whatever that entails. And when I came out of it all, all I wanted was to... run to you and to tell you, but you were dead. And suddenly, I realized just how much I want you. How much I... love you."

Quentin's eyes widened as he turned to look at Eliot. Eliot had finally given up on avoiding him and was staring him dead in the eyes. He looked genuine – serious. When they had first gotten together, in the other timeline, it had just... happened, on its own. This? This was Eliot, consciously taking the first step toward Quentin, admitting what he wanted. Now, it was on Quentin to take the next. He took that literally, stepping up to Eliot and reaching up to pull Eliot into a tentative, soft kiss.

"Fucking finally", groaned Margo in the background.

/break\

They were a strange, royal family. High King Fen, her husband Eliot, his husband Quentin. On the other side, High King Fen's wife Margo and her husband Josh. Fillory and its strange marital laws had made that possible. And while in his position as the husband of the husband of the High King (and oh, the irony of that, considering Fen had simply been a girl promised to a king at the beginning of her story), Quentin didn't have a proper ruling role. He still aided as an adviser. And, in a way, everything was as it ought to be. Between Eliot, Quentin, Margo and Josh, there were four children of Earth ruling Fillory, at the side of their High King. They did it, they managed to actually help the people of Fillory, make Fillory a better place – even though it took them years to fix.

And along the way, Quentin had found his own calling. The author of his childhood had disappointed him, but sent him on a quest. So Quentin wanted to do better, be better. He spent a lot of his time at the castle writing. Writing the books of their story. The Beast in the Book, The Goddess in Green, The Creature in the Castle. A best-selling trilogy on Earth, to tell their story, and very popular among Fillorians too. He spent a lot of time on the ship – the flying ship that had made him so happy and euphoric when he had first entered it. Just flying through and exploring all of Fillory with his husband, writing down their adventures. And if they were needed, the others would simply send them a bunny and Eliot and Quentin would return to the palace.

But mainly, they were living on the fly, wherever they wanted to be, exploring, enjoying life. Being happy together and with what they had made of their life. That was their story.

Read this here on FFNet & here on AO3!

[svtskneecaps]

that damn need to please

Group/Member: Seventeen’s Wen Junhui

Words: 1558

Hogwarts AU

ok admittedly i’m not super super confident in this one but in my defense the request was just ‘Slytherin!Jun x Hufflepuff!reader’ and this is what happened. creative liberties and all that. it’s a one shot so understandably there’s not much buildup. sorry, probably a disappointment, but hey it’s long enough to meet the word count for a Written Assignment so now i can hate myself for being able to crank this out in two sittings but the other thing took like a decade and a half.

@letsseehowhappyyouare

sorry in advance here we go

Main Masterlist

You were tired.

Tired with a capital T, tired with a ™. Just- so tired.

It was the need to please, you decided. That damn need to please. And that damn Slytherin.

You were no fool. Stereotypes didn’t mean shit, you were an example. Hufflepuffs were supposed to be like the good Christian kids with a plate of cookies or whatever. Like Santa’s elves or something. Rosy cheeked and bright eyed. Meanwhile you slung curse words and downed energy drinks like you’d die if you didn’t get another sip with eye bags deep enough to carry groceries and a great death stare. That was the Ravenclaw archetype.

But this Slytherin?

Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough, but he purported like the stereotype that everyone had latched onto in the 1980s or whatever. Latched onto hardcore. You’re talking smirking, the vaguely holier-than-thou brand of confidence, the works. If you added a bit of a blood purity complex then the only thing keeping him from being the next Draco Malfoy would be the fact that he actually looked hot as a platinum blond but if anyone asked you’d immediately deny ever thinking it.

And maybe it was the damn need to please that made you so fluttery and frustrated. The damn need to please that said you should befriend the guy, who’d made it very clear that he was very much satisfied with his current crew and didn’t want jack from anybody, friendship at the forefront.

You’d noticed a commonality in your problems and almost all of them stemmed from your need to please. You were gonna throw that out, you swore.

“Why are you giving your chicken a death stare?” Soonyoung teased.

“It offended me,” you deadpanned, jabbing at it with a fork and missing, the prongs hitting the plate with an angry screech.

“No really.”

You dropped the fork, tangling your hands in your hair. “We got assigned new patrol routes this morning. I got one of the real late routes, starting tonight.”

Wonwoo clicked his tongue. “This is why I didn’t want to be a prefect.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Seokmin said optimistically. “You always say you’re a night owl.”

“Yeah but I do my homework at that time of night.” You sighed. “But that’s not all. I do part of the route with Junhui.”

“He’s not that bad.” Wonwoo rolled his eyes.

“The problem isn’t what he is, it’s what he acts like.” You dropped your head onto the table, narrowly missing a plate of mashed potatoes. “He could be the nicest damn guy on the planet underneath all the snark, but that’s still beneath the snark and I swear to god I don’t have the mental energy for the snark or for digging through the snark.”

“So don’t talk to him.”

“I also don’t have the mental energy for that.” You picked your head up a little and slammed it back down, making the silverware jump.

“How does not talking to someone take mental energy?”

“Cause then I’ll start dwelling on how quiet it is and how I’m obviously not doing my job because one hundred percent I took the whole beginning school welcoming thing way too serious and now I’m in too deep with the helpful Hufflepuff attitude.”

“You could say,” Hansol started, leaning in with a sly grin, “that the helpful Hufflepuff is harmful.”

You didn’t even look up.

The crack of fucking dawn came before you knew it. You were doing your homework in the Hufflepuff Common Room by the dying fire when the alarm you’d set for yourself went off. Loudly.

You fell out of your chair trying to shut it off.

Still lacing up your shoes you all but fell out the entrance, the barrel lid closing behind you. You probably looked like a mess, since you’d requested a neck breather to keep you on task and Soonyoung’s methods of getting you on track involved throwing things, or as he called it, practicing for his OWLs. You were pretty sure using the Banishing Charm to throw pillows and occasionally you across the room wasn’t actually going to be on the OWLs, but you digress.

Jun was waiting at the entrance to the Great Hall, none too patiently. Well, good for him. You were celebrating the little victories. Maybe you weren’t quite on time but you hadn’t tripped on the way up the stairs, so hey, that was a win in your book.

“Glad you decided to show up,” he said. Honestly, you were kind of surprised by the inflection. You were expecting Sharpay Evans but. . . you were pretty sure there was a hint of sincerity in there. Somewhere.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you answered, a bit more stiff than you intended, but whatever.

He quirked an eyebrow. “That’s a tone and a half.”

“Thought it was high time I joined the club.” You shoved your hands into your pockets. “You have a tone issue, I’ve got a tone issue, even the score board.”

You caught him smiling, though he was obviously trying to suppress it. “That didn’t make a bit of sense.”

“Guess we know why I’m not a Ravenclaw,” you joked.

Silence fell, and you dragged your shoe awkwardly across the tiles.

“We gonna do this or wait until the sun comes up?” Jun finally asked.

“I don’t know, sunrise sounds good to me,” you deadpanned, but started walking anyway.

And patrols kind of. . . continued like that. You’d be lowkey flustered and awkward (because that damn need to please) and he’d act all collected, until somehow purely by accident you’d wear him down and suddenly he’d be cracking up at you. Like the time you were walking the Charms corridor and Peeves knocked something over and you emitted a very unflattering squeak and blew the classroom door open, completely on accident. Apparently Jun found that hilarious, and adorable, in his words even you blushed for the next thirty minutes. Every patrol he got softer faster and stayed that way longer and honestly you had no idea how you’d even been alive before seeing this boy in a laughing fit. You weren’t sure how you were alive after either..

But the weird part was, he stayed the same during the day. He didn’t say hi in the halls, or class, or the library, or in the Great Hall. You’d make eye contact and he’d just look away. Like okay Junie B, two can play at that game, and you could respect his boundaries. If he’d prefer to keep the friendship (if that was what it was) under wraps, you were cool with that.

Kind of.

You were cool with it but that didn’t mean you weren’t curious.

“Hey Jun,” you started, finally getting up your nerve like a month later, “we’re cool, right?”

He glanced at you. “What do you mean? Course we’re cool. Why?”

You shrugged, trying not to let on your blazing insecurity. “I dunno. Just, you never talk to me outside of the routes. I mean, I totally get if it’s just a convenience friendship, but- I dunno.”

“No, no way, it’s not that,” he promised, without hesitation. “Just-” He stopped. It took a couple corridors for him to find the thought, but he got it. “My friends would tease you,” he said. “And trust me, you don’t want that.”

You snorted. “Why do I find it hard to believe that anyone can tease me worse than BooSeokSoon.”

“Trust me, you’ve never seen Yoon Jeonghan when faced with romantic tension.” Jun rolled his eyes with a laugh. “He pestered Mingyu nonstop for months.”

“Romantic tension?” You got stuck on that part. Probably it would be safer to just go down the path of Mingyu’s relationship, but you were also going to eat yourself for every meal for the next month if you didn’t investigate the first bit, so whatever.

He looked like he suddenly registered what he’d said. “Um- yeah.”

“We have romantic tension,” you repeated, processing.

He sighed. “Okay I wanted to admit this in a better way, but- I have a massive crush on you.” He lifted his hands and stepped away. You suddenly registered you’d stopped walking. “There. I said it.”

You squinted at him. “How are you so at ease admitting that.”

He shrugged, somewhat awkwardly. “Been stewing over a confession for awhile?” he admitted.

“No really,” you said. “How. Because I’ve had a crush on you for like- a while and not once did I imagine any confession coming out of my mouth that sounds as graceful as that one.”

He got this cute little smile. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m a mess.” You ran your hands through your hair in agitation, before glancing up. “Oh wait, you meant the crush bit.”

He nodded, still with that same little smile.

“Not the confession delivery bit.”

He nodded.

You fought the urge to charm yourself and run for it. It was a convincing option. Literally the one thing keeping you there was the fact that he’d gone first. And. . . it was requited.

Holy shit, it was requited!

“So,” Jun said, abruptly snapping you back, “there’s a Hogsmeade trip this weekend. Should we make it a date?”

You beamed. “Sure thing.”

You could weather the teasing if it meant you saw his smile more often.

[thethespacecoyote]

“overflow for empty”

Just posting this bathing/washing/dirty!Kylo fic here too. Also on ao3. 

If you asked Hux, it was common sense to go to the medbay when one was injured. Though he disliked the invasive questions of the medics and their ceaseless prodding and palpating as much as anyone else did, he put up with it when he had to, with little need for fuss or fanfare.

Of course, someone like Kylo Ren doesn’t ever follow common sense. So maybe Hux shouldn’t be surprised that a filthy, bloodstained form of his co-commander greeted him when he answered the chime on his quarters’ door later into the cycle. But that didn’t stop him from letting out an embarrassing yelp when the beast of a man practically fell into his arms and knocked him to the floor.

Thankfully no one else was around in the halls nor present in his quarters. And Ren seemed more focused on staying up on his trembling legs than paying much attention to Hux, so his pride was safe for the time being. His spine, however, was a different matter, and he had to quickly drag the shaky Ren away from the door to a place where he could probably collapse.

And, being loathe to ruin the crisp blue of his couch with his filthy, injured body yet not so cruel as to dump Ren on the floor, Hux supported him, around slung around his thin shoulders, until they got to the refresher—at which point he carefully crouched and let Ren slide off him onto the tile, his back leaned up against the wall.

Now, Hux is trying to determine what to do next. Part of him is tempted to call the medbay and have them send for Ren, drag his raggedy carcass from his quarters and leave him in peace. After all, it’s not his business to play nursemaid and tend to Ren’s foolishness, to validate whatever reasons he might have in coming to Hux.

“What have you done to yourself this time?” The general hisses as he gets on his knees besides Ren, reaching out and brushing a bit of hair away from his face, only to find it stuck to his temple. Hux grimaces, retracting his hand. Ren couldn’t have brushed himself off a bit, or changed his clothing, before shambling over to his quarters?

He always has to do everything for him.

“Perhaps you’ll be a little less cagey once you’re clean,” Hux muses, more to himself than Ren as he moves back to the tub, closing the drain and starting up the water. He adjusts the dial, holding his hand under the splashing faucet as he seeks the proper temperature. He doesn’t want to scald Ren, but the water needs to be warm enough to properly loosen the soil from where it’s plastered against his skin.

Hux scarcely uses the tub in his refresher—he has no real need for it, preferring the efficiency of a shower, but the quarters of all superior officers come equipped with them. He’s a bit thankful for it now, because it would be awkward to wash Ren any other way, both physically and in terms of taste.

Hux leaves the faucet to run as he rises to paw through the medicine cabinet, choosing his least beloved shampoos and soaps. He supposes the scent doesn’t matter much to Ren. Does getting cleaned even matter to Ren? Hux has absolutely no idea what’s going on in his head right now. He doesn’t wish this often, but he supposes it’d be nice to have a touch of Ren’s mystical powers, just to get a better grasp on annoying situations like this.

Hux sets up the array of bathing products neatly on the edge of the tub, before turning his attention back to Ren. He hasn’t moved much, still looking at his tattered gloves in his lap, expression impassive. His eyelids droop, almost like he’s about to sleep, but he tilts his head up when Hux kneels back at his side. Dark, almost lost eyes briefly survey his face, before casting back down again. It’s almost like he’s drifting, barely attached to his own body.

Hux hopes the warm water will bring Ren back to his senses, but just as he moves to help him up, he realizes an issue he hadn’t thought of, and swallows.

Oh hells. He didn’t consider that he’ll have to strip Ren, at least partially, before he puts him into the bath. Suddenly he’s regretting this decision a bit, but after a moment of calming breaths tries his best to push past his hang-up. Ren is just a man, after all, like Hux is. He can’t have anything that he hasn’t seen before.

“Up. I need you on the edge of the bathtub.” Hux says, patting him on the shoulder before sliding one hand beneath his arm and lifting up. Ren grunts as he rises with the aid of both the general and the wall, keeps his legs bent at the knee as if he’s in pain, before shuffling the scant distance and nearly collapsing on the rim. Hux places a hand on his waist, steadying him lest Ren tumble backwards into the water or crack his head against the wall. Ren’s hands grasp tightly against the edge of the tub, holding himself still to the best of his ability. Hux pats his hip.

“Well then. Let’s get on with it.” He unwinds the tattered cowl and pulls it over Ren’s head, letting it fall to the floor with a wrinkle of his nose. It’s certainly the filthiest part of his outfit, and Hux wishes he could have it incinerated before it makes the whole refresher reek. Ren really could use a new wardrobe. Switch out the black rags every once and awhile. Maybe even for a crisp, well-made uniform of the Order. Wouldn’t that be nicer?

Hux pulls the gloves off of Ren’s hand, grimacing at how tightly they cling to his sweaty skin. These too, smell terribly, and he tosses them into the pile with the cowl. Hux holds his breath and presses his lips tightly together as his fingers fiddle with the collar of Ren’s tunic, peeling away the fastenings to reveal more of his throat, then his chest. He tries to keep his mind off sordid things as he unbuckles Ren’s belt and pulls the fabric away from his skin. It sticks in places which—while vile—provides a welcome distraction from the appealing sight of the other man’s body. He needs to focus, after all, and not linger on the bulky curves of Ren’s torso.

Hux is about to get started on his pants when Ren mumbles something and numbly knocks away his hands. Relieved, Hux stands up and turns away, leaving Ren to deal with everything below the belt, keeping an ear on the running water of the tub and only turning around once he hears a loud, messy splash.

Hux frowns at the fresh puddles on the refresher floor next to the discarded boots and pants, but at least Ren is sitting in the tub now, and he didn’t have to risk catching sight of his unmentionables. He kneels once more, unable not to note the way Ren’s large frame nearly fills the space and forces the water to rise almost at the edge.

Already the grime and blood on Ren’s body is starting to float off of his skin in little brown and maroon islands, moving with the ripple of the faucet’s flow. Hux eyes drift over him, trying to determine where to start first. There’s so much that needs to be done. He almost wants to start with Ren’s face, but he’s not sure he can meet his eyes again just yet.

Hux sighs, rolling up the sleeves of the casual shirt he occasionally wears about his quarters. He doesn’t want it getting soaked in water and whatever filth might wash from Ren’s body.

He cranks off the water after wetting a hand towel in the warm stream, rubbing it with a mild soap before bringing it first to Ren’s shoulder, the one closest to him. He starts moving the cloth against his skin, scrubbing away the stubborn bits of dirt and stars-knows-what clung to his body and leaving a pleasing, if faint scent of lavender in its wake. Hux is satisfied to find the grime comes off rather easily. Perhaps this will take less time than he feared.

Hux’s eyelids lower as he next brushes the towel over Ren’s neck, remembering all the incidents in which he’s tossed about his officers like dolls, threatened to snap their spines and tear their breath from them, in blatant disregard of usual disciplinary protocol. Hux briefly wonders if he could move quick enough to cinch his hands around his neck and throttle Ren before his abnormal power crushed him against the wall of the refresher. But he banishes the thought to the back of his mind, instead rubbing away the blotches of red on Ren’s throat, leaving pale, unmarked skin below. Not his own blood, then.

Once Ren’s shoulders, neck, and collar are clean, Hux dips his hand beneath the surface to scrub his chest and the upper half of his abdomen. His muscles twitch instinctively as Hux rubs over them with the cloth, as if he’s grown extra sensitive in the water. The general tries to ignore it and keep his composure, even as he explores the contours of Ren’s body for the first time.

Hux always knew his co-commander was well-built, that much was obvious even from beneath the thick tunic and shabby robes of his usual attire. Though he nearly reaches Ren’s height, he could never dream to match his breadth, and—while Hux would never admit it to anyone—he’s entertained himself with fantasies about the man’s body frequently. And now he finally gets the chance to run his hands over it, albeit not in the exact manner he desired. But would he have ever gotten that chance otherwise?

The oddness of their current intimacy isn’t lost on Hux, as he rubs fresh soap into the cloth and moves to Ren’s back. It’s even harder not to notice the sharp, defined lines of his muscles here. Hux recalls all the moments he’s watched Ren in battle, either in person or via holo, and considers how they might flex in the thick of it all, and not in the relaxed aftermath he’s witnessing the the moment.

His fingers run over the scars of those battles now, and Hux wonders at the story behind each of them, no matter how mundane or extraordinary they might be. Some are fresher and pink, others have silvered with age. For such a young man, Ren is littered with them. Surely bacta would have cleared them right up, leaving Hux to think they may have been left to scar on purpose.

He doesn’t bother washing below Ren’s waist, partly because he can’t reach that far without soaking his shirt cuffs, but mostly out of fear of brushing up against something indecent. He’s not sure how either of them will react if that happens, and he’s not all that eager to find out.

Thus, finally, Hux takes a quiet breath, and resolves to clean Ren’s face.

It’s easily the most dirtied place on his entire body, now contrasting even more noticeably with the relative cleanliness of his torso. There’s more blood here, as well, nearly caking the entire right side of Ren’s face. Some of it has dried and is already flaking off, but most gathers congealed on his skin in varying depths of red. Dirt and soot streak across his face above the blood, and Hux wonders how he’s received this much damage. Hadn’t he worn his helmet? Or had he lost it on the mission? Hux thinks to ask, but inquiring about Ren’s mysteries can be dangerous.

He runs the faucet briefly to dampen the towel before bringing it up to Ren’s face, rubbing his skin with a little more care then he had with the rest of his body. Even so, his expression twitches, eyes scrunched shut with some discomfort as Hux washes away the filth. He raises an eyebrow when he runs the cloth down Ren’s cheeks, revealing more of what lies beneath.

Is—is Ren blushing? Oh please let that be the warmth of the bath affecting his usually pale, death-like skin. Hux doesn’t know what to think if it’s not.

He wipes away the blood crusted to Ren’s temple and the dirt stuck to his cheeks, easing his touch every time he winces or cringes. There’s a cut near his hairline and a blossoming bruise on his cheek, as well as a split on the right side of his lip, but apart from that Ren’s face has sustained little damaged. Hux feels oddly relieved at that as he gently dabs at the edges of his injuries, ensuring they’ll be clean enough for proper bacta application.

Lastly, he turns to Ren’s hair, the nest of locks still matted with dirt and sweat and the leftover blood from his facial wound. Hux dips his hand in a patch of clean water, cupping it in his palm and lifting it above his head head, before dripping it onto Ren’s hair. He repeats the action until the matted locks are properly wet, then reaches for the shampoo and squeezes it into his palm.

“Head back,” Hux instructs, even as he reaches for Ren’s chin and tips it himself anyway. He goes so readily, letting Hux manipulate his body as he cleans him. In fact, Ren hasn’t protested at all since he started this, apart from the occasional wince and groan as Hux brushes against his hurts.

It’s strange to consider that Ren actually wants this, that he purposefully sought the general out in lieu of medical. Not that Hux has ever spent much time thinking about what Ren wants, but surely he cares more about personal glories and his own abstruse, mystical enlightenment rather than enjoying something as trivial as a bath. It’s hard for Hux to wrap his mind around why Ren would ever want comfort, especially comfort at the hands of his detested rival.

Despite his doubts Hux continues to massage the shampoo into Ren’s hair, lathering up his locks until they feel silky between his fingers. It actually is rather nice to touch, and Hux lingers perhaps a little longer than necessary, combing out the tangles with a gentleness that surprises him.

He splashes more water on Ren’s head, helping it thread through his hair until it lays smoothly plastered against his neck and scalp. Hux cradles the back of his head and rinses the suds out carefully, keeping them out of Ren’s eyes and the wounds on his face. It almost reminds him of a scene out of vintage holodramas as Ren glances up at him, lips parted slightly. The tinge on his cheek is definitely blush.

“Sit up.” Hux leans away, dipping his hands in the water to clean the off the shampoo. He casts a glance over the part of Ren’s body he can see, and decides he’s clean enough. Next time, he should just douse Ren with a hose rather than go through all this trouble. Perhaps then he’ll learn how to properly wash himself.

Hux helps Ren rise, quickly offering him a towel as he drains the tub, watching the now dirtied water spiral away. He has him sit once more, slowly dripping dry, as Hux looks for something to properly mend his wounds.

He only has a package of bacta strips in the refresher cabinet, meant for smaller scrapes and lacerations. Thankfully, despite the heavy stains on his tunic, it doesn’t seem like many of Ren’s wounds and abrasions are all that deep. One long one across his upper back is Hux’s main concern, and he rips the strips into smaller pieces, laying them end-on-end to cover it all. They’re waterproof, so they stick easily even against Ren’s damp skin. Although they’re not the higher-grade material carried by medics, they’ll do the job, hopefully bring Ren back to full strength by the time he has to leave on another mission—whenever that may be.

“You could have gone to the medbay,” Hux murmurs as he flattens the last, small strip of bacta against the wound on Ren’s temple, “why come all the way here? They could’ve fixed you up in moments.”

He trails his fingers down the side of Ren’s face, thumb gently rubbing the corner of his mouth, unsure if he’s looking for an answer. He’s about to pull his hand away when Ren speaks up, and what he says strikes Hux right in the chest.

“I wanted it to be you.”

Hux’s heart beats quicker, and he immediately scolds it. Why? Just because Ren says he wants him? What could that possible mean, coming from the cruel, duplicitous Force-user he knows him to be? And if he’s telling truth, where had such trust come from? Hux could very well have shoved Ren’s head beneath the water, or slit his throat with a quick pass of his vibroblade, soaking the porcelain tub red with blood. Hux’s cunning isn’t exactly a well-kept secret. Sure Ren knows about it. Surely he would do the same to Hux if he were given a chance to strike in such a state of vulnerability.

“You fool,” he says, lacking much venom, “what could I possibly give you the medbay cannot?”

Ren raises his head, and Hux finds himself momentarily entranced in their depths. So close, and without the blood and muck clouding him up, Ren truly is a striking young man. A human, not one of Snoke’s mindless warrior guards, nor one of Hux’s own engineered projects. Made of bone and supple muscle and surprisingly soft skin that he’s already been lucky enough to touch. Craving some kind of familiarity, despite the violent, volatile world he must cut his way through. Even if it has to come from a man who would just as easily strike him down as clean his wounds.  

“Here I was, thinking I could rinse you down and send you on your way,” Hux sighs, lightly patting Ren’s cheek before rising to his feet. “Come then. I need something to drink after all this.” He’s thinking tea, but realizes it sounds like he’s talking about alcohol which, on second thought, isn’t the worst idea. Perhaps Ren will appreciate a shot or two after the day he’s presumably had.  

Hux casts his eye over the lump of soiled black clothes on the floor, then the towel clenched tightly about Ren’s hips as he rises to his feet.

But after Hux acquires some fresh clothes for him. Hopefully, there’s something in his wardrobe that might fit.

[fizzyhosh]

Nothing Else Matters (Remus Lupin)

Anon: please write a remus x reader in which the reader is from a really old important pureblood family but on the down low isn't anything like them but comes across really cold (and like a bit of a mean girl) her and remus get paired for a project & he's all sweet & charming & she falls for him but gets mad & distant cause stupid remus & his stupid perfect face & stupid wit & stupid beautiful eyes running her plan to fly under the radar until she can get away from her family but happy fluffy ending

Warnings: angst, blood status prejudice, but like fluff at the end

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Slytherin!pureblood!Reader

Summary: When you get paired up with Remus for a project, you have to decide which is more important: keeping up the reputation of your pureblood family by never speaking to anyone, or flirting with the cute, charming boy from Gryffindor.

Word Count: ........like.......... 4.1k

A/N: This may have come out a bit more angsty than I wanted, or maybe not angsty enough, idk it’s hard to tell if it’s good after reading it through a thousand times so let me know what you guys think!!!!! Sorry it’s so LONG but I hate putting stories in multiple parts :///

Also, I feel like it’s confusing so idk but I really like this one :))

Also also #awkward it’s a sherlock gif but I’m watching it for the first time ever and wooooo I can’t find any better gif we love mixing fandoms 

You didn't really have a lot of friends. It's not like you were a loner or pathetic or anything, you chose to be by yourself. If you ever had friends, they'd realize how different you were from your very well-known pureblood family, the (Y/L/N)'s. 

They were one of the oldest Wizarding families, and all your ancestors had become either very, important and successful authority figures, Death Eaters, or both. People expected you to be exactly like them because you were put in Slytherin as every single one of them had. You didn't like the idea of ruining the family name, something that had been burned into your mind since you were little.

Maybe it would be different if the sorting hat chose any other house. Every time you thought about the day you got sorted, your stomach turned with regret at the thought that you could have been wearing different colors, probably with actual friends. 

"Ah, yes, interesting. (Y/L/N)..." the sorting hat spoke softly upon your 11-year-old head. "I see you're determined just like the rest of your Slytherin family... you'll do anything to get what you want.... but I see you also have a heart of gold, you're loyal, you would do well in Hufflepuff. And, yes, you're also brave, very brave, like Gryffindors should be. Ah, and wise beyond your years, I see. You could prosper in Ravenclaw." 

You gulped as the hat hummed. 

"But what would your family say if you were anything but Slytherin?" it asked off-handedly. 

What would they say? They'd probably banish you, abandon you, or kill you. Maybe all of the above. 

"I see you have great doubts about the other houses. Better be... SLYTHERIN!" 

If only you hadn't doubted, maybe the hat would have chosen differently for you. That thought killed you every day. 

You never tried talking to anyone in your house or anyone in school. You kept quiet and stayed away from people. You worried what they would think about you and your family if they knew how close you were to straying from your family's path. 

The other pureblood Slytherins always talked so highly of their families and other pure bloods they knew, like it was a competition of who could go back the furthest in their lineage without encountering a half-blood or Muggle-born relative. It made you sick to hear them talk like they were higher than everyone else. 

You looked down at your hands as you sat at the end of Slytherin table. There was a good eight feet between you and the next person on the bench, so clearly no one else really cared to get to know you. You got looks from everyone, especially your housemates, that told you people thought you were a little weird or maybe even intimidating. 

"Isn't that a (Y/L/N)?" was a common question you heard whispered as you passed in the halls, often followed with an equally badly executed whisper of, "yeah, I heard she hates her life and her family. She might have pushed that first year down the stairs. You know, the one they say had to be sent to St. Mungo's and might die?"

That's just how your experience was at Hogwarts, and that's how you preferred it. You didn't talk to anyone and no one talked to you. 

Until one day, Professor Slughorn decided that apparently no one could research a potion on their own.

"We'll be starting a few very complicated potions and to ensure that everyone fully understands, we'll be working in pairs for the research and brewing portions. Everyone grab a partner."

It was one of the worst things that could have happened. Not only would you be singled out as not being able to find a partner, if you did manage one, you'd have to introduce yourself and they would either hate you and make you get a bad grade, or like you and want to be friends. 

Slughorn looked around the room as people stood up and switched seats so they could sit with their friends and new partners. You sat still but the girl next to you hopped up in a second. 

"Ah, Mr. Lupin, why don't you go over and partner up with Ms. (Y/L/N)?" 

Someone placed their books in the seat next to you and you felt their presence as they sat down. You turned your head slightly to see one of the popular Gryffindor boys. You cursed in your head. 

"Hi, I'm Remus," he said with a large smile and stuck his hand out. You glanced at him, then his hand, and looked back up to the front. His hand lowered slowly and he cleared his throat. "Alright..." 

Slughorn continued the lesson. "Now, we will be brewing these in class as pairs, but I want you to research each of three potions and write a four and a half foot essay on each by next Tuesday. It will be worth a very large grade, so it's in your best interest not to fail." 

After class was over, you stood up quickly, eager to leave before Remus tried talking to you again. 

"Wait, (Y/N),"

You turned quickly, eyes wide in shock and confusion. "You know my name?" 

His confidence faltered in your sudden speech abilities. "Oh, uh, yes? Is that surprising?" 

How did one of the super popular, hot Gryffindor boys know your name? Did that mean you weren't as secluded as you thought? 

You shook off the question and the thought about him being hot and raised your eyebrows to ask what he wanted. 

"When can we work on the project? I like to get homework out of the way." 

You crossed your arms and thought. "Library at three tomorrow afternoon."

He nodded and smiled lightly. "Works for me. I'll see you then, (Y/N)." 

He put a light hand on your lower back as he walked past so he could get by you and your breath hitched, your skin tingling where he touched. A few other girls in your year looked at you with their mouths open slightly before they started gossiping to each other in hushed voices. 

"How does he know her?" 

"Who even is she?"

"Isn't she that (Y/L/N)?" 

You rolled your eyes and turned to leave. Maybe you were more under the radar than Remus made it seem. Then why did he, of all people, know your name?

-----

You glanced up at the library door every 20 seconds or whenever someone walked in, hoping waiting for Remus to arrive. It was 3:17 and you were growing impatient. Part of you was excited to see him, but you didn't know why. You couldn't possibly like a boy you met the day before and even if you did, there was no way he'd like you back. On the off chance that he did like you back, you'd never date him because him being so popular meant people would start knowing you because of your association and you couldn't let that happen. 

A flustered Remus walked up to the table quickly and set down his bag. "Sorry I—"

"You're late," you said coldly. 

He hesitated. "I know, sorry. My friends were just—"

"I don't care. We have a project to do," you said in soft but strong voice.  You looked up when he didn't respond, expecting to see the classic deer in headlights look when you said things like that, but were shocked to see a small smile on the boy in front of you. 

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, did you?" 

"I always wake up on the same side," you said as you looked back down. 

"Might wanna try the other side for a change. You seem a bit grumpy, (Y/N)." 

You looked up at him again. Why was he acting like you were old friends? "Excuse me?" 

He shrugged and pulled out his potions book. "So the first potion that we have to research is..." 

"The Draught of Peace," you mumbled and he glanced up at you. 

"Yes, right," he flipped through his book and you mimicked him, almost forgetting why you were there. 

Remus had proven to be a very good accidental distraction. 

While you two were writing, you heard Remus' quill slow to a stop and you felt his eyes on you. Without looking up, you said, "it's going to take us a lot longer to do this if you're going to keep staring at me." 

He didn't reply and you looked up, your face heating up when he didn't break eye contact. He smiled. "Sorry." He looked back down and this time, you were the one staring.

"I expect you're wondering why I'm not afraid of you?" he started, making you wonder if he could read minds. He glanced up when you didn't respond. 

"A bit. I hear what people say about me."

"Why do you assume I would be one of those people?" 

You shrugged. "Figured everyone was one of those people."

"Well I'm not afraid of you because I know what you're like." 

You scoffed. "No, you don't. I'm nothi—"

"Nothing like your family?" 

You stopped, your heart beating fast. How did he know?

He nodded and dipped his quill into his ink and started writing again. "So is my friend, Sirius Black. His whole family is pureblood Slytherins. Of course, I'm sure you've heard of them. Gave him a right scare to be sorted into Gryffindor. But he's nothing like them either." 

"What makes you think I'm not like my family? I'm a Slytherin just like them." 

He looked up again and you lost your voice again when his eyes met yours. "I've never seen anyone's sorting take as long as yours, especially not a pureblood and especially not a pureblood if they really are like their family. I expect that unlike the rest of your family, there was another option for you?" 

You nodded slowly and shyly. You'd never admitted that to anyone, but you trusted Remus for some reason. 

"Which house?" he asked, like it was a normal conversation. 

"All of them," you breathed, relieved to finally tell someone. 

His eyebrows shot up. "Wicked. You're the full package, then."

A large smile slowly grew on your face and he mirrored it. 

"Ah, so she smiles." 

"I've just... never told anyone that." 

"Really?" 

You shook your head. 

"Well, I'm honored, (Y/N)." He smiled at you for another few seconds before he turned back to his paper and wrote some more. You bit your lip gently, trying to suppress an excited smile. Remus smiled down at his paper. "It's going to take us a lot longer to do this if you're going to keep staring at me, (Y/N)." 

-----

You became suddenly aware of how often you passed Remus in the halls. It was hard to ignore his loud group of friends before, but now that you and Remus had met and he knew something personal about you, both of you had a hard time not staring at each other when you passed. 

"(Y/N)?"

"Hm?"

"How come I hardly see you around during free time and such?" "Because we’re in different houses, I guess."

"I know you're lying." 

You hid a smile. "How's that?"

"You have a look." 

"You've only known me for a few days," you laughed. 

"Come on, how come I've never seen you?" He lightly kicked your foot under the table. 

You shrugged. "Because I stay in my dorm. I hardly leave."

"Afraid of getting into trouble?" 

"Partly, I think I would die if I got detention—don't smirk at me—but really, I don't have many friends."

His smirk fell. "Why not?"

"Believe it or not, people don't really enjoy girls who only say snarky things to them." 

He fake gasped. "No way!" He laughed and continued, dropping the sarcastic voice. "Why don't you just be nice to people then?" 

You shrugged. "No point. I'm afraid of people knowing how much I'm not like my family."

"You want people to think you'll most likely be a death eater?" You frowned at him. “Sorry,” he added. 

"No, it's just... I'm worried about disappointing my family. I don't want to be shunned or banished from the (Y/L/N) family. It's just easier to... not be myself, I guess."

"You don't agree with their morals and things but you'll fake it to be accepted by them?" 

"I know it doesn't make sense. I guess it's the other houses in me, internally fighting. I know what I want and what I believe, but I'm afraid of letting people down or confronting my problems. I'm trying to stay loyal to my family, no matter how messed up they are."

He nodded slowly. "Well, I like being your friend, (Y/N). Even if you are a... from your family."

"Why can't you say my last name?" You raised an eyebrow. 

"Because if you're not like them, I figure you don't want to be called one."

You smiled. He was exactly right. 

-----

As the days went by, you were starting to like Remus more and more, which terrified you. You had gone so long without making friends and now that your friendship with Remus was so easy, you were worried that you'd get too close. You had been under the radar for so long and doing so well. You didn't want to give that up for some boy, no matter how charming and cute and funny and sweet he was. 

You tried really hard not to smile at him when you wrote your essays together. Honestly, you two would have finished a lot sooner if you hadn't subtly flirted the whole time. 

"Is it bad that I wish we were brewing love potion instead of the Peace Draught?" you asked. Genuinely, it was only because you wanted to know what it would smell like to you. You weren't trying to flirt, though you didn't mind the response you got. 

"You don't need it," Remus replied peering over his book with smiling eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him and he winked before turning back to his book. "But you do need a date for the trip to Hogsmeade next week."

He said it so casually that you froze. Did he realize he was asking you on a date? 

"What d'you say? Would you like to go with me?" 

You get your chest tighten. You wanted to go, but if you did, people would notice you and they'd talk about you. You couldn't have people talk about you and figure out you're nothing like your family. Your family was all uptight and never had fun, but you, the real you, were so bubbly and happy and cracked jokes all the time, Besides, none of our family would be caught dead hanging out with half-bloods and Muggle-borns. That's not what your family did. They were strict about their pureblood status. 

"(Y/N)?"

"No."

"Oh."

"I mean, yes I want to, but I can't." 

"Can't?" 

You shook your head. 

"Why not?"

"I just can't, Remus." 

"I get it, but why? Even for just an hour?" 

"It's not about because I don't have time, it's because..." 

"You have a boyfriend? Girlfriend?" 

Your chest hurt so bad it was almost unbearable. You felt like you were being cornered but it was just you and a few other people in the library. "No, it's because it's...you." 

"Sorry... I just thought, you know... you liked me..." his voice faded with the saddest tone you had heard. It broke your heart. "Sorry, that's stupid, I don't know why I thought that—"

"I do like you."

"You're making no sense, (Y/N). Then why can't you go on a date with me?"

You paused, trying to breathe and not cry, both of which were not working out for you. What were you supposed to say? 

His face turned from concerned to completely relaxed, but not in a comforting way. His shoulders fell and he say up a bit straighter than usual. "Oh." 

"Oh, what?" you asked, hoping he was assuming a good excuse that you could go along with. Unfortunately, he was almost dead on with his idea. Almost.

"Nothing like your family, eh, (Y/L/N)?" he said softly but intensely as he stood up slowly and collected his things. 

You frowned. He never used your last name before because he knew you weren't like them. "Wha—"

"Can't be seen around half-bloods, or traitors, or Muggle-borns, can you?" 

Your eyes widened. "Remus, you know that's not why—"

"Why else then?" he tried, raising his eyebrows as your eyes filled with tears. 

"Okay, maybe it is. But it's not because I care, it's because—"

"It's because you're a (Y/L/N). You can't go ruining your reputation, can you?" 

"Remus—"

"Good luck finishing that last essay, (Y/L/N), you might need it if you've just been using me to get a better grade." Your last name on his tongue sounded like nails on a chalkboard. It felt like some kind of accusation, like the worst thing he could call you. 

With that, he strode out of the library, leaving you with your teardrop stained parchment and short, labored breaths. 

-----

The brewing part of the project took three days, each day you brewed one of the three potions that you had written the essay about. You could tell Remus dreaded those days. 

"You sure you still want to be my partner? Wouldn't want my half-blood germs in it," Remus muttered under his breath. 

"Remus, stop it."

"Sorry, you're right. As a pureblood, you have total authority over everything I do. I just had forgotten."

His words stabbed you with more pain than you had ever experienced, but you felt like it was deserved. After all, you did deny a date with him because of his blood status. 

But it wasn't like that. It was because of your family’s opinion, not yours. If it was up to you, you would have been in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff and you probably would have been dating Remus for at least a year. Things would be so different. 

After the last day of the brewing project, Remus packed up his things quickly and left with his friends. You ran after him, stopping him in the hall. 

"Remus, please," you felt tears slip down your face as you looked at him. "I'm s-so sorry, I didn't mean it. Please let me explain—"

He just stared at you with the least amount of expression you had seen a person have, or not have. "Don't worry, I'm used to being disappointed by others, believe me." 

He turned and you heard his friend whisper quite loudly to him. "Wasn't she your partner for the project?" 

"Yes. But that's all."

"What'd she do, mess up the potions?" he laughed.

Remus turned to look at you over his shoulder. "Something like that." 

He turned the corner and disappeared. You didn't know what you had to do. Did you have to stand on a table and profess your really really strong like for him? You let out a breath you had been holding. It seemed like that just might be what you had to do. 

-----

Your trip to Hogsmeade was like any other, except this time, you had to avoid a boy in order to not cry. Other than that, it was lonely and quick like usual. All you needed to buy was a few sweets from Honeydukes, where you almost literally ran into Remus, and you were gone. 

You didn't even try to talk to him, knowing he wouldn't care to listen. 

By the end of the day, you had finally mustered up enough courage to go and talk to him and tell him that you actually cared about him, not his blood status. 

It was dinner at the Great Hall like always, except this time, you were anxious for more than one reason. You sat facing the Gryffindor table, in direct line of sight to Remus and his friends, though his back was turned to you. 

Dumbledore had finished his speech and everybody was eating happily when you stood up and made your way to Remus. People watched as you passed, curious about why you were getting up from the table. The Gryffindors near him looked at you and whispered. 

You tapped his shoulder. “Remus?” Nothing. Sirius, who sat across from him, kicked him under the table and nodded toward you but Remus just shook his head lightly. 

"Remus? Can I please talk to you? It's really important." His friends looked at you sympathetically but you stood your ground. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me."

He turned around and looked up at you, giving you the most fake smile. "Fine, what’s up? How's your day? Brilliant, so was mine." He turned back to his friends. "Bye, now."

You stepped back and took a deep breath. Filch spotted you by the Gryffindor table and eyed you. He starting walking towards you, ready to use any excuse to get any student into trouble. 

You put your hand on Remus' shoulder and he turned to yell, until he realized that you were using his shoulder to give you a boost to get up on the table. 

"(Y/N), what are you—"

You saw Filch hobble towards you quicker and all the Gryffindors were staring up at you as other tables started to realize what was happening. You were only looking at Remus, who looked like a worried mother. 

Sirius glanced up but accidentally saw right under your skirt and giggled immaturely with James. Remus kicked both of them and looked right back up at your face. 

"Remus John Lupin!" 

"(Y/N) you don't have to—"

"I stand before you and our entire school, asking for your forgiveness!" you said in a dramatically poetic and totally not serious way.

He was red, his eyes not breaking contact with yours. 

You lowered your voice from a shout to a desperate but still confident level. "I don't care what anyone thinks. Not anyone in the room, not my family, not Filch," a few people around that heard you chuckled as the old man approached you, but Remus was still focused on the 'family' part, "and not you, Remus. I don't care what anyone thinks." 

"About what?" he snapped. 

"I don't care what anyone thinks about me anymore. I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), like you, Remus. And I don't care who knows it. In fact, I want everyone to know!" 

His face dropped. 

"And if you don't believe me, just look at me," you put your arms out and a small smile creeped it's way into his face. "I'm standing on a table in front of hundreds of people, confessing my feelings, seconds away from being sent to detention. That's three things you know I'm afraid of and I'm doing them for you." 

He was full on grinning now. 

"What I did was terrible, and I didn't mean it. I was afraid of letting down my family so I always stayed quiet and in the back of the room. But then you walked in with your stupid perfect face and stupid, funny jokes and stupid beautiful eyes and you were so charming and smart and sweet and you made me feel like me. So, Remus. Please accept this as my apology, and please, please, be my friend again. 

He stood up and grabbed your wrist, pulling you down to his level again. Once you got to the ground, he grabbed your face and stared at you for a moment. "I'll do more than be your friend." He smiled and kissed you hard, beyond happy that anyone would do anything so romantic for him. "You should be in Gryffindor just for that, love." People were cheering around you but all you could hear was Remus' voice. 

Someone cleared their throat behind you and your turned quickly to see Professor McGonagall looking down at you over her glasses. "Hallway, both of you," she said sternly and you quickly followed her out. 

As soon as the door closed, Remus spoke. "Professor, please don't give (Y/N) a detention, it's my fault, I ignored her and she had to do that so I would talk to her." 

"Your fault? Are you claiming that you blackmailed her to stand on the table?" 

"Well, no—"

"Then perhaps used the Imperius Curse?"

"No!" 

"Did you even ask her to stand on the table?"

"No ma'am," he said softly. 

"Didn’t think so. Then it is not your fault, Mr. Lupin. Ms. (Y/L/N) is entirely responsible for her actions. Now, as touching as it was, it is my job to give you a detention!"

"Yes Professor." You looked at your feet. 

"But whether I have to is entirely my choice." 

You looked up hopefully. 

"And as interruptive and frankly unsanitary as it was, I have never heard you speak more than four words to me. I was pleasantly surprised to see you give such a speech." 

Your face got hot. 

"But please, in the future, try to refrain from standing on tables when you need to speak. A raised hand in my class will do just fine" She gave you a reassuring smile and turned to go back into the Great Hall. 

Remus turned to you and grabbed your hands. 

"Remus, I'm really sorry. Seriously. I should have never let my families beliefs affect my own. I don't care what you are. Pureblood, half-blood, Muggle-born, muggle, even a werewolf," you laughed, "I'd still like you." 

He smiled and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "I like you too, (Y/N). I'm sorry for yelling at you." 

"You had the right."

"No I didn't. I should have listened to you."

"Stop blaming yourself. It just came out wrong when I said it."

"Oh for the love of Merlin," James groaned. 

You turned and saw him, Sirius, and Peter by the door. 

"Just kiss already, would ya?" Sirius asked.

You looked at Remus and smiled, put your hands on the back of his neck, and pulled him down to kiss you. 

You knew this new thing you so had going on would attract a lot of attention. People would know that you weren't anything like your family, because a (Y/L/N) was dating the popular Gryffindor half-blood and she spoke her mind when she was around him and she participated in school events now. You knew you'd get a howler a week later from your mum or dad and probably not be allowed back home. 

But you didn't care. 

None of it mattered, except for Remus.

_______________________

Remus Tags: @knowledgeisthebomb @the-best-fanfition-ever @harrypotterimmaginaa @stateofloveandvedder @gryffindorprincess379 @finnofamerica

[merryfortune]

Vrains Rare Pair Week - Day 2

Day 2 / Dec 24 - Fairy Tales / Horror Stories

·         Ship: Takeru/Aoi

  Once upon a time, there was a young king. To call him egotistical would be improper but he was self-absorbed. The King was a man named Akira and he was a man of peace and mind. He did not war monger but, his life was not without strife. Though, much of it was self-imposed.

  One way in which most his strife was self-impose can be best demonstrated by how, one day, he became intrigued by how much the women in his life loved him. Thus, he posed them a question.

  He had his wife and sister heralded to his throne room where he welcomed them with the guise of a game. His wife, the mischievous Queen Ema, and his sister, the near hermitic Princess Aoi, awaited them. Both were eager to bond. It felt like their darling King never paid any attention to either of them due to his tenuous work as king.

  Akira looked down upon them and then asked: “How much do you two love me?”

  Such a question elicited a look between Ema and Aoi which was incredulous to say the least, but they relented. They played along nonetheless. Ema sighed and smiled.

  “You are the apple of my eye, the love of my life.” she replied in due earnestness.

  Aoi shifted. “I love you as much as the salt on my food…” she murmured.

  Ema glanced at her sister-in-law and then unto her husband. She blinked. She smiled and was intrigued by such a statement.

  King Akira, however, was not as benevolent in reaction. In fact, far from it. He was enraged by the response his sister had given him. His wife had doused him in fair praise, but his sister seemed to have little response. His brow knitted together.

  “Ema, my love, for your reply, I want you to go find the royal seamstress immediately and have her make a new gown for you.” Akira said and then his sharp eyes fell over to Aoi. “However, Aoi, because of your response, I want you stripped of your privileges as princess for a whole year. In this year, I want you to live as a peasant. I have spoiled you too much if you feel it fit to bite the hand which feeds you. I want you to repent for your lack of love for me, your elder brother.”

  Aoi attempted to protest but, as it was said – so it was done.

  She was escorted out by one of the royal knights and taken to her chambers. She gathered what she could. She took a few of her finer dresses and some of her jewellery. Once she had made her selections of what possessions she would take with her in the big, wide world she had been spurned onto, she was then banished from the castle.

  She was taken to the edge of the capital and told to live as she pleased so long as it was under the guise of being a common woman and not a princess. Aoi obeyed. She traded in some of her clothes and jewels for money. However, there was one thing Aoi would never sell and that was her signet ring with a four-leaf clover design. That ring was far too precious to ever go without. With that money, she purchased more common clothes as she realised someone might be more willing to take her as a board if she looked like she could do the hard yards.

  So, for a few days, she flitted from building to building in search of work. Each day, the clothes she wore grew dirtier and dirtier despite her best efforts to keep clean. It was on the end of her second week as a supposed peasant girl that she found work. A cheery shepherd and his quiet son took her on as a watcher of their fields.

  There, Aoi grew accustomed to her new life as a shepherdess. She was awkward, and they were awkward with her but soon, they grew. She came to understand them as people. Their names were Shoichi and Yusaku; Yusaku had a job in the town as a baker and thus, was no longer interested in taking shifts in the field with his assumed father. They were good people though. They didn’t pry and gave her the space she needed. They didn’t even ask why such an improvised girl as her would be in possession of such a marvellous signet ring as hers. Thus, it was a quiet household that was often without gossip or event. But, it was nice. Aoi preferred it that way, to be honest.

  Time passed quicker than Aoi thought it would. Before she knew it, she had been working with Shoichi and Yusaku for about six months. Her days as a princess now seemed a life time away and yet, her days resuming as such seemed so close. After all, another six months and she would be permitted to re-joining her family at the castle.

  But, it was at this mid-point that Aoi found herself nostalgic for the fine silks and makeup that she used to wear. She sighed. But, as she fell deeper into these feelings, she came to a conclusion. Yusaku was at work with the bakers and Shoichi had taken some stock to market to sell. She would have a few hours to herself and thus, her mind wandered, and ideas bloomed.

  Rather than don the guise of the peasant girl, Aoi decided to bedeck herself in her decadent dresses. She chose the powdery blue one with white accents. She twirled around the house in it, content with herself. But, alas, she looked out the window and saw that the troublesome poddy lamb – Ai – had gotten loose again; likely in search of his favourite companion, Yusaku.

  Without enough time to get changed, Aoi resolved to simply fulfil her duties in a ballgown rather than anything practical. So, she charged out – high heels and all – into the field. She dragged Ai by the scruff of his neck before he could get too far down the road and tied him up again.

  Ai brayed at her, whining. Aoi stuck her tongue out back. Ai was full of personality. She then went inside and tried to fix Ai something to drink; some milk. She came back and fed him as is. Then, once she finished feeding Ai, she felt too exhausted to get changed again. So, she sighed and relented.

  Today, she would simply wear what she desired for her work. So, for a few hours, she tended the fields in her stunning, powder blue dress with angelic motifs. It was kind of fun. More fun than wearing her drab brown uniform.

  As Aoi tended the fields, she thought alone, she was completely unaware that someone had spotted her in her dress.

  The young and vivacious Prince Takeru had come to visit. He and his carriage and all his men passed by the field in which Aoi tended, completely unaware. He had come on royal duties as he was from a seaside kingdom faraway, nothing like the landlocked capital of Sol Vrains, Den City. He wanted to discuss treaties with King Akira, among other things such as see the sights.

  And the sights he saw! He never thought he would ever see such a beautiful shepherdess. He fell in love with the sight of her and all her sheep as they mowed around her and her gorgeous gown. Immediately, Prince Takeru was struck with the arrow of love.

  However, being of the temperament he was – which was to say outlandish and ridiculous – his love burned so hard that it robbed him of his energy. He had always been of a peculiar constitution; sometimes, he was frail and other times he was seemingly indestructible. No one could ever predict his health, and no one could have predicted how the beautiful shepherdess he had fallen in love with had impacted him.

  As he passed by and into the city, he grew sick with yearning and love for the girl he didn’t even know. He was ailed so harshly by this infatuation that his body grew weak and he failed to meet with Prince Akira at the time they had appointed for conversations of the princely and kingly duties.

  His royal doctor, and childhood friend, Kiku attempted to heal him but none of her remedies worked. Thus, Takeru took her hand and smiled.

  “Kiku, the only cure for my sickness is to eat a loaf of bread prepared by the beautiful shepherdess from the field.” he told her with a quivering voice.

  Kiku sighed and realised that if his illness was emotional, then there was nothing she could do with herb and spell.  She wished desperately that she could chastise her Prince for being so ridiculous but as his friend, she decided not to lest he become wounded. So, she relented. Kiku organised a search party. She and Takeru’s men scoured all of Den City in search of the shepherdess who tended her sheep in such an impractical yet gorgeous outfit.

  They asked and asked but no one knew the girl they spoke of. But, with Takeru’s health growing dire, Kiku decided to resort to drastic measures. Instead, she returned to the farm that they had passed by – the one where they saw the girl.

  “I come in the name of Prince Takeru,” she told Shoichi and Yusaku, “and our prince is gravely ill with love. Does a woman live here?”

  “Yeah, we’ve got a girl boarding with us.” Shoichi replied.

  “Does she know how to bake?” Kiku asked.

  “Yeah.” Yusaku replied.

  “Excellent. Now, is by any chance, you would be interested in what might constitute as treason? I desire to con my Prince into think he’s eating the bread made by his fictitious love. I mean, what sort of shepherdess wears a ball gown whilst with her sheep?”

  “What?” Aoi piped up as she came down stairs to see what the fuss was. Her eyes widened.

 “Regardless, I think that if Prince Takeru thinks that he’s eating bread made by such a woman, he will be cured of his ridiculous infatuation.” Kiku finished.

  “Oh look, speak of the devil,” Shoichi said and he ushered Aoi closer, “here’s the girl you’re looking for. Our blue rose in this den of men.”

  “You flatter me, Shoichi.” Aoi replied awkwardly.

  “So, would you be willing? Just one loaf of bread.”

  “Very well then…” Aoi murmured.

  Kiku stayed a while. Aoi, in the meantime, baked the bread – with some input from Yusaku. He always found it strange that things as simple as baking bread sometimes seemed a touch beyond Aoi’s skill set. Regardless, come the eventide, Kiku was sent off with a warm loaf of bread.

  And Aoi realised something awful. As she washed her hands, she realised that her signet ring – the one her parents gave her before their untimely demise – had disappeared. She tore apart the house in search of it but quickly came to a grim conclusion: she had accidentally baked it into the loaf of bread.

  A conclusion that soon proved correct.

  Kiku arrived at the castle and was quickly whisked up to Prince Takeru’s guest room. She handed over the bread, still warm, and Prince Takeru serenely unwound the cloth that covered it. He smiled. He broke off a piece and began eating it. Already his flushed cheeks paled, and his clammy complexion improved. Kiku smiled.

  But then, Prince Takeru bit into the ring. He removed it from his mouth and his eyes widened. They glittered and Kiku’s heart dropped.

  “The beautiful shepherdess,” he began breathlessly, “she must requite me. Hence why this is in the bread she gave me. Did you swear you to secrecy?”

  Kiku, unable to respond, merely nodded.

  Prince Takeru put aside the bread and forced himself to his feet. He was as unsteady as a foal. He grabbed his coat, a burning crimson, and he grinned.

  “Take me to this girl at once, I want to be married to her!” he announced.

  Kiku was flabbergasted and there was nothing she could do. Her Prince Takeru bore onwards and was soon, by demand, taken to the cottage at the edge of town – to the inelegant surprise of the men who lived there.

  “I am Prince Takeru!” he said as he banged on the door. “And I wish to become the betrothed of the shepherdess who lives here!”

  Ai cooed from his yard, intrigued.

  Shoichi opened the door to Prince Takeru. “The girl who lives here doesn’t even know how to bake bread properly. You don’t want to marry her.”

  “Fiend, you must want her for yourself.” Prince Takeru spat.

  “I can assure you otherwise.” Shoichi countered.

  He hazarded a look over his shoulder, “Yusaku, where’s Aoi?”

  Yusaku shrugged.

  “I’m here.” Aoi said.

  And, again, she descended down the stairs of the two-tier cottage and all eyes widened. She wore a pastel blue dress with white, angel-themed decals.

  “So, I hear you found my ring.” Aoi said.

  Prince Takeru barged past Shoichi and Yusaku. It seemed there was little they could do to stop him. Though, Kiku apologised profusely in lieu of the prince.

  Aoi stepped off the final ledge. “It’s good to meet you, Prince Takeru. I’ve heard of you. I’m Princess Aoi of Sol Vrains.”

  “You’re WHO?” Shoichi yelled.

  “I am the hermit princess, Aoi of Sol Vrains: my brother, Akira, is the king.” Princess Aoi said.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Princess Aoi.” Prince Takeru said.

  “By the gods…” Kiku gasped.

  “We had a princess living with us this whole goddamn time?” Shoichi snapped at Yusaku.

  “Apparently.” Yusaku shrugged back.

  “Now, Princess Aoi,” Prince Takeru said as he readied the four-leaf clover ring, “I would like to ask for your hand in marriage. As immediately as possible.”

  “I accept. On two conditions.” Princess Aoi replied.

  “Whatever you ask. No feat is too herculean.” Prince Takeru replied.

  “The first of which is that I want my brother to be in attendance and to have a seat of honour. The second of my conditions is that I shall be the one to prepare your meal our wedding.” Princess Aoi said.

  “…Huh?” Shoichi exclaimed; still too dazed by the whole situation to realise that two of royal blood had just gotten engaged under his roof.

  “Easy.” Prince Takeru beamed. “I look forward to your cooking, Aoi.”

  And thus, a wedding was held in Den City and what a grand wedding it was. Folks from all walks of life got together for it. From those held in esteem in the country Prince Takeru represented to the likes of Shoichi and Yusaku, as well as their poddy lamb Ai. With, of course, King Akira and Queen Ema in attendance.

  The ceremony was grandiose and the kiss that sealed it was warm. The dinner party that ensued in the castle simmered. Plates upon plates of food. All of it was beautiful and well made. Everyone, bar Prince Takeru, was soon given something to eat and to say grace before.

  As in accordance with her conditions, it was Princess Aoi who brought out the final plate. She held it closely. Compared to that of the professional chefs, it was meagre and even ugly looking but from afar, Prince Takeru eyed it with eagerness. Princess Aoi smiled. Her heart fluttered upon such a look.

  “Here you go, my husband.” she said. “Now, you are not allowed to change a single thing about it. You will eat it as I have prepared it.”

  “With pleasure, my wife.” Prince Takeru replied.

  King Akira, sitting adjacent to such a lovey-dovey scene harrumphed to the amusement of his wife.

  Princess Aoi took her seat beside her husband her brother.

  “Thank you for this meal.” Prince Takeru exclaimed.

  He then took arms against his food. He ate it with great vigour. Princess Aoi smiled but then, Prince Takeru placed his knife and fork down.

  “It needs… salt.” Prince Takeru said.

  “Like I said, you must eat it as I have prepared it. Even if it requires salt, like you believe.” Princess Aoi replied, very seriously.

  “But its really, really good – I didn’t mean any offence.” Prince Takeru hastily added.

  “I know, my love,” Prince Aoi glanced at her brother, “I know.”

  And thus, in that moment, King Akira had a moment of thunderstruck disbelief. When he had asked his sister – in the game – how much did she love him? He had misunderstood.

[092219archive]

Your last comic w lute got me thinking, what sort of dynamic does eren have with the other members of eph and eirika’s group? Any in particular that eren is friends with? (treble)

you know, funnily enough, eren has 0 relations with lute and i added her because i asked my younger brother, “who in sacred stones— besides ephraim or eren— would be the most likely one to swear? like, modern slang. like ass.”

“you.”

“i said besides eren.”

“oh, lute. you have to add her glasses on though.”

BUT, you do have me thinking about what kind of relationship eren has with everyone else besides eirika and ephraim, so thank you for sending this ask in, treb!

i’m only going to do “playable characters” but only a select few. eren can’t interact with everybody but i feel that most of them would respect her status as a soldier, if nothing else.

eirika: (wow who could’ve guessed) so… at first, eren didn’t really see much in eirika other than the textbook definition of “hero” and heroes aren’t necessarily people that interested eren in the long run. eirika’s ideals of “i don’t want to fight as it causes bloodshed, but i must protect my land and the people that i care for” is so utterly cheesy to someone like eren who fought because “someone told them to.” but what makes eirika stand out from all of the other soldiers is how compassionate she is, even while staring death in the face.

she’s tough, and she can stand up for herself and those ideals of hers. eirika isn’t afraid to fight for what she believes in and she’s not going to back down. she cares for others and her kindness drives her to improve and become stronger. when innes was so insistent on protecting eirika even though she ended up being the one protecting him?

it’s the fact that eirika can be such a kind leader that still stands tall no matter the circumstances that brings eren to her in the first place.

if ephraim’s not there, eirika is eren’s voice of reason, the light that banishes the darkness that plagues eren’s mind. eirika is patient and understanding because eren’s been through a lot. whenever eren has the time, she helps eirika with her duties because of just how much eirika has done and more.

seth: the wiki does say that seth “watches over the welfare of everyone” so i can imagine that he’d have to check in with eren at some point as well. he probably… would not take to eren very kindly, as they’re not like duessel who was there with the renais siblings since birth and they’re also not from renais.

he probably wouldn’t mean any harm, as both ephraim and eirika trust that eren won’t harm anyone in the army, but seth would probably be a little wary of eren because who knows what they can do? former enemy, talented and fierce soldier, now in the proximity of the rest of the army— that’s not the most optimal situation.

like, when eren first joined ephraim’s army, they isolated herself bad. they knew that they wouldn’t be well taken to considering they were apart of the enemy’s forces at one point. and their existence was a little out there, with rumors akin to the one’s around jaffar. it’s like how he’s referred to as the angel of death, etc.

but as eren communicates with others or is communicated to, they loosen up a little bit and starts to become more “friendly” and interact with others like any other soldier in the army. and seth does take note of this, of course. i think in due time, he stops being as cautious around eren as he once was. he treats eren like a solider that’s with them.

lute: so, i can definitely imagine eren and lute being surprisingly good friends, especially since the comic. lute wants answers to a lot of things that don’t really have “specific answers” to, and eren is not the greatest at answering questions they’ve never thought about. lute would definitely be the one to approach eren with potentially strange questions, and eren’s there, completely unknowing on how to react or answer.

as lute hangs around eren more, i can see eren becoming less “what the fuck” to “an oddball but i like her company.” they could probably have “average conversations” (which would sound strange with how lute can word things) which would build further onto their strange friendship.

forde: eren would definitely find some kind of vibe with forde. likes to sleep, a fantastic artist. fe!eren doesn’t draw or anything, but i feel they’d want to learn how to since it’s something that’s always been fascinating to them. forde would start from the basics, move up to more complex things like refinery if he wasn’t sleeping… and he’s a chill dude, so eren wouldn’t be as anxious when it comes to talking to him. they’d probably paint self portraits of each other once eren was able to get the hang of painting, maybe adding joking features like a mustache or silly quotes.

tana: okay, i’ll be honest, i didn’t like tana at first because i stray away from more upbeat characters. but as the game progressed and i saw more and more of tana’s dialogue and supports, i realized that tana is a really realistic character. she has goals and motivations like anybody else, and she’s brave enough to do risky things because she wants to prove herself capable of protecting those she loves and cares about.

eren would probably be annoyed with her at first, and they’d keep their distance on purpose. people like tana zapped the energy out of people like eren, faster than lute’s ability to cast lightning onto the enemy. but as two fliers on the same side, the chances of them working together would be really, really high. they’d probably be “only soldiers,” making sure to call out for things to keep the other safe. after battles, they’d give their “thanks” and as sociable as tana is, she would probably make some attempt to talk to eren.

eren, of course, does not like talking to people, and especially not people with a ton of energy. but tana’s patient and understanding, because she’s met people like eren before. she’s the princess of frelia for crying out loud! the chances of meeting reserved people isn’t that low. eren’s stubborn, but tana’s resilient.

now, they’re best friends!

innes: eren… didn’t hate innes’ guts, but wasn’t super appreciative of the dude either. he was so stuck up, and eren does not take kindly to people that are stuck up (eren sure hates a lot of people). but the man’s a genius when it comes to battle strategies, and they can’t deny they’re almost envious of how his plans can flow so smoothly. the two would probably argue over what’s the best for the army during certain situations, and ideas would definitely clash.

but they’re also really similar in the sense that they move independently. they want to show that they’re capable of holding their own ground, that they’re strong enough to do that. eren would probably figure that out and would watch out for innes during or after battles, and innes would respect eren’s ability to improvise on the battlefield when things went down south. they still clash, but they mean well.

cormag: two brooos, chilling on their wyveeerns, five feet apart because they mutually respect each other’s strengths as wyvern rideeers.

myrrh: daughter. dragon daughter. eren would take on a role similar to a parent when it came to myrrh, but like… an awkward parent. myrrh would probably follow her around every now and then, because eren’s guard is put down around myrrh. she’s not intimidating or trying to push people away, but accepts myrrh around because… eren can’t say no to myrrh.

eren: do you… want something sweet?myrrh: oh. if it’s okay.

there’s nothing super in depth, but if i elaborated on the relationships further, i can definitely see eirika, tana, innes, and myrrh being extremely good friends with eren just because of how the dynamics could work.