#flat spin chapter 9... this week?

[internetgremlin-writes]

hey 😏 (with the intention of asking you with the hashtag “already working on something” means we are getting flat spin chapter 9 soon)

Heyy

My god you people miss NOTHING (i love it)

What if I told you there's already 2.5k words in the Chapter 9 document?

[damienthepious]

ahhhhhhh. a breath of air. yeehaw.

still need your teeth around my organs (Epilogue)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [ch 11] [ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Enemies to Lovers, Rivals to Lovers, Dueling, Sexual Tension, (because they’re IDIOTS), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, mutual IDIOTS, canon typical Arum ignoring feelings, Polyamory, (eventually lmao), Polyamory Negotiations

Fic Summary: Damien won yesterday, Arum won today, and now all that’s left is to break the tie. The only issue, however, is that neither of them are willing to do so, not until they are both satisfied that they have fought fairly, and honorably, and one of them has truly won.

Chapter Summary: It's a date.

Chapter Notes: SURPRISE! the epilogue chapter i said would "probably happen next week," literally last year. Weekly reminder: do not ffucking trust me, i'm UNRELIABLE. Anyway. I love you. I hope you enjoy this. I hope it's a nice little dessert at the tail of this fic. Thank you for reading.

~

They begin to see the glow through the trees through the moonless night a long while before they arrive properly at the grove.

They do not rush, though Amaryllis nearly glows herself, overflowing with excitement. She bounces on her heels, pointing out the light perhaps five minutes after Arum spies it himself (human eyesight, Arum thinks fondly), and her grip on his hand tightens as they walk together through the darkness, their voices hushed even in their eagerness.

Damien makes a noise when they push through the heavy leaves and into the grove itself, a little oh of an exhale, almost desperate with wonder.

The flowers of the newmoonvine are beautiful, of course. Of course they are beautiful. They glow in all the shades of the moon in her absence, cream yellow and coin grey and pure white, very very rarely a mellow eclipse red, subtle low-flying orange. The illumination is enough to set the whole grove alight, painting swaths of gentle pastel like a particularly ambitious pre-dawn.

But...

Arum has seen beautiful flowers before, though, and more interesting to him by far is...

The way Amaryllis and Damien reflect that beauty. Their faces, their eyes. The way their breathing catches, shallow gasps and stuttering inhales. Amaryllis lifting her hands to cover her mouth, ineffectively hiding the way her smile widens. Damien spinning in a slow, wondering circle, breathing another soft, slow oh as he drinks in the whole of the grove around him.

(The way they both, eventually, catch their eyes on Arum in turn, with further gasps, with a softening of eyes and smiles, as if he looks even half as beautiful to them as they do to him.)

Arum murmurs gentle instruction to the roots, providing a flat enough place for Amaryllis to spread out the thick blanket, and Damien sets down the baskets just beside it. Amaryllis pulls out her father's instrument with a sly smile, and Arum pretends to scowl as Damien tugs him into his arms, and Amaryllis sings gentle and sweet and clear in the night, and Damien teaches him a more... earnest dance, rather than the metaphorical one they used to step to. The movements are easy enough, and Arum rather enjoys the way Damien feels, pressed against him, hands on his scales. He enjoys the feeling of Damien humming to Amaryllis' song, enjoys the flush across the poet's cheeks, enjoys the way his breath hitches in a soft noise when Arum decides to abandon the planned steps, and lifts Damien in a sudden spin.

He kisses Arum's snout as he lowers the poet back to his feet, and Arum enjoys that, as well. He enjoys it very, very much.

And the feeling in his chest-

He has been nurturing that seedling since- since before he acknowledged it, truly. He knows what it is. He is taking his time, or- he was. As Damien tugs him to sit beside a playfully applauding Amaryllis, her mouth curved in a smug little smile, he feels it swelling again. Damien pours some mead for them, and Arum starts arranging the fruit and bread and cheese to pick at while they watch the flowers and Rilla takes her requisite "quick notes" into her recorder. Arum is unsurprised, that she was not being facetious about doing so, even on what she and Damien insisted on calling a "date."

And then they sit. Together. Quiet, and calm. Leaning against each other, touching without active intent.

The feeling in Arum's chest again. Swooping, soaring.

At first, it felt... dangerous. Like trusting these humans was tantamount to tossing himself off the edge of a cliff- the edge of the world, and simply hoping, believing that he would somehow, somehow survive the plunge. When he thinks about putting his life in their hands- sleeping beside them, resting his head on their shoulders-

(putting his blade in Damien's hand)

(sitting at Amaryllis' table)

Trusting them. He could not feel safe in it, for a long while. He still chose to do so, he still... took the leap, as it were. Still threw himself from that edge, hoping. He started falling, he thinks, the first time Damien took his hand to help him to his feet. Not believing that he would survive the fall did not matter, then, even if it does, now. If only for their sakes.

And-

Sitting here, Damien's hair tucked beneath his chin, Amaryllis' fingers netted with his own, her cheek on his shoulder, his body settling warm between them in the cool night air, flowers everywhere around them... he knows that he would fall again. He will decide, over and over, to fall, so long as they are the ones who could catch him.

He even believes... he believes, he does, that they are falling too. Right along with him. Hand in hand.

He swallows, the flowers blurring slightly as his eyes go, for a moment, hot, but he breathes slowly and composes himself, and he squeezes Amaryllis' hand in his own, and he reaches to take Damien's hand on the other side.

He leans back, enough that the humans stir, and look towards him. They blink, moon-tinted flower-light painting their faces, and Arum-

Arum doesn't even think. It slips from him. He has wanted to say it so many times.

"I love you," he says, the words so easy and true that they seem more a part of his breath than any words ever have before.

Damien's eyes fill with tears in an instant, which Arum decides to take as a good sign. Amaryllis, however, blinks as her mouth drops open into a little o, and then she curses under her breath.

"Oh you absolute- I can't believe that you'd-" she snaps her jaw shut, apparently seeing the way that Arum's heart has fallen through to his stomach, and she quickly shakes her head. "No no no wait no not like that I didn't mean- you stop laughing at me!" she says, reaching across Arum's broad chest to smack Damien in the arm as he laughs - still through his tears - before she squeezes Arum's hand in a fierce grip. "I knew this trip was coming up and I had this whole plan I brought the whole thing- blanket for the picnic and a basket of your favorite fruits and plenty of wine and I was going to do this whole thing, because the idea of this whole trip scared you so bad the first time I talked about it that you ran away and- and I wanted to show you how different things are, how different we are, and I just-"

"You should never expect to execute plans without amendment where our particular monster is concerned, my flower," Damien says warmly.

"I don't..." Arum glances between them, still uncertain, his mind still reeling. "I don't underst-"

She cuts him off with a kiss, and when she leans back away again, her arms draped across his shoulders, Arum's heart seems to have decided to nestle there between them, warm against her chest.

"I love you," she says emphatically, leaning into him, letting his arms hold her up, and Arum exhales all the air in his lungs in one breath. "I love you. You brat. Undercutting my whole- plans and- ugh- I love you. Even if you drive me crazy." She pauses. "Especially because you drive me crazy," she mutters against his lips before another small kiss.

Damien leans close on his other side, pressing his lips tenderly to the edge of his frill, and then he whispers, "I think you likely know, my lily, that my heart lives in you precisely as it lives in my Rilla." He smiles, hand on Arum's chin as he feels his throat whir in relieved pleasure. Damien's entire face is soft, glowing, gentle. "I think you know, Arum, how I love you. I have, in fact, for quite some time."

"Brat," Amaryllis mutters again, and Arum barks an unexpected laugh.

It breaks the spell, the seriousness, the way Arum's chest felt tight with tears. Damien laughs as well, and then Amaryllis rolls her eyes and presses her head against his cheek, kissing his jaw and laughing lightly in her own right. They snuggle closer, Damien mouthing kisses along his neck, and Arum realizes-

The swooping feeling, the falling-

It hasn't gone away with his confession, as he expected it to. He still feels- midair, wild and windswept and caressed by clouds.

Arum smiles, nuzzles them back, loves them.

It's alright, falling for them. Falling with them. It's alright. It's... safe. They are safe, with him, as he is with them, even midair, and wild, and windswept.

Arum has been falling, now, for long enough that it has begun to feel like flight.

[fizzyxcustard]

Covert Eyes (11)

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

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Stalking behaviour, anxiety, language, sexual references.

Summary: Lucas takes notice of a young woman, Amy, but his obsession and want to get to know her begin to spiral out of control.

Official soundtrack list: here

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. The above image was located on Pinterest, with no link back to the original source. 

I also wanted to stipulate, and I don’t mean to be rude, but if you ask to be on my tag list and never interact (even if just a ‘like’ on the chapters I post) then I will remove you after a few weeks. Please try and show some kind of engagement, or ask to be taken off my list if you’re no longer interested.

At six weeks into the relationship, Amy and Lucas were practically living together at her flat. Her wardrobe now housed a fair few strips of his clothes, and his toiletries were now lined up in the bathroom on her cabinet. He even had his own mug, one that he had chosen from the huge collection of Disney ones. It was a Grumpy the Dwarf mug, of which Amy had laughed at when he initially chose it.

“Come on, though. It’s the furthest thing from you,” Amy chuckled. 

“Well, how come you have it? It’s hardly you either.” 

“He gets such a bad rep, so I brought it because I feel bad for him.” 

Lucas raised his eyebrow and chuckled at her. 

“Stop mocking me,” Amy said, nudging him with her arm. 

“I’m not mocking you.” Lucas caught her with his arm and pulled her to him. He looked down at her, his eyes smouldering in his want of her. 

***

Two weeks had passed now since Jonathan had buzzed Amy at her flat block. And gradually she had begun to return to her normal activity, meaning that Lucas had reluctantly agreed to not meet her from work or escort her in. Amy had been adamant that she would not continue to allow Lucas to ‘baby’ her and cause potentially problems with his own work. 

One Wednesday evening as Amy slipped out of work and made her way down a quiet street, she suddenly felt a presence behind her. Her heart raced and the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention, pushing her to carry on at a slightly faster pace. 

“Hey, bitch.” 

A rod of ice splintered through Amy’s spine as she immediately recognised who the owner of that voice was. “L…leave me a….alone, Jonathan. Please.” She never turned, but instead carried on walking. “I don’t wany any bother. Please leave me alone.” 

“I only want to talk,” Jonathan hissed, and then grabbed her arm, spinning her around. 

Amy gasped, and felt tears begin to well in her eyes. Her whole body remained still, frozen in her heightened fight or flight response. Adrenaline was burning in her veins. 

Jonathan grinned at her perversely. “Oh, come on. I won’t hurt you. I think you’re overreacting a little bit.” 

“Please, just leave me alone.” Amy couldn’t even bring herself to look him in the eye; she was too terrified. Her green gaze remained locked on the pavement beneath her feet. 

“Are you okay there?” a voice came from behind. A young man, who looked no older than late twenties could see plainly that Amy was very distressed. He stepped up towards the spectacle that was taking place in the street. 

“Mind your own business, pal,” Jonathan growled. 

“I was asking her, not you,” the stranger replied back angrily. 

Amy looked up at the stranger, a tall man with dark hair and black rimmed glasses, reminding her a little of Clark Kent. Maybe he really was Superman. “Ummm.” The uncertainty in her voice was telling. 

“Back off,” Jonathan growled again, standing to his full height against Clark Kent. 

Amy took a deep breath and swallowed. “Leave me alone, Jon. I don’t want to talk to you. I’ve already called the police once and they’ll be called again.” 

“Bitch,” Jonathan muttered, then he turned and began to walk away, sulking off up the street. 

“Thank you,” Amy told the stranger. Tears fell down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” She rubbed the tears away with the back of her hand, feeling embarrassed. “I’m going to call my boyfriend and see if he can come to me.” 

“Do you want me to wait with you? If not, I’d suggest going and waiting in a shop or something where there are plenty of people about, and call the police.” 

It didn’t take any more than twenty minutes for Lucas to get across the city to Amy. He pulled up at the kerbside in a black BMW and jumped out. Lucas raced to Amy and took her in his arms. “I’m taking you home and staying with you.” Then he spotted the stranger waiting next to Amy. “Thank you, mate. I appreciate it. Did he touch her?” 

“I saw him grab her arm when I was further back up the street. I could see she was uncomfortable.” 

Lucas took Amy back to her flat, noticing how quiet she was, until she finally spoke. “I’m sorry to pull you out of work again.” 

“Fuck work. Seriously, Amy, what is wrong with this guy?” Lucas hissed. 

“Please go back to work. I’ll be fine on my own inside,” Amy told him. 

“You know I’m not doing that.”

Inside the flat and Amy sat down on the sofa and fell into a bout of weeping. She rocked back and forth, sobbing and asking why he couldn’t leave her alone. 

In a fit of rage, Lucas pulled his phone out of his back pocket and rang the number which he had been waiting to have reason to use. He listened to the dial tone for a few seconds, before a man answered. 

“I know where you live, Jonathan. You stay the fuck away from Amy! If you don’t then I’ll come after you,” Lucas shouted. 

“Who the fuck is this?” Jonathan spat. 

“You don’t need to know who this is. But I very much know who you are. Leave her the fuck alone otherwise you’ll have me coming after you, and it won’t end well.” 

Lucas ended the call, threw his phone on the coffee table and sat down beside Amy, pulling her into his arms. “I’ve got you. I won’t let him hurt you, I swear,” Lucas told her, kissing her head for reassurance. “He fucking dares…” 

Amy held Lucas as tight as she could. “Please make him stop.” 

A short while later and Lucas lay with Amy on her bed, holding her from behind. He kept telling her that it would be okay as he listened to her sob into the pillow. It didn’t seem to matter how much he tried to reassure her, Amy still continued sobbing. And for this, Jonathan would pay. 

Once Amy was asleep, having drifted off in a sea of tears, Lucas kissed her one last time on the head and shifted out of the bed. He pulled on his shoes and jacket, then snuck out of the flat, borrowing Amy’s key which she left on the kitchen table. Lucas let himself out into the mild evening air and got into the car which he still had from work, the vehicle in which his team believed he was currently deployed in. Instead, he had snuck back to Amy’s flat to be with her at her most vulnerable time. 

Lucas pulled up outside another block of flats, similar to Amy’s, but three miles away. The flats looked ordinary, lived in. Jonathan lived on the second floor in a two-bedroom flat with his disabled mother. Lucas looked at his watch, just after eleven. 

Up on the second floor of the block, Lucas knocked on the door which belonged to Jonathan Simmons. 

There was a shuffle from inside and the bark of a dog, which was then followed by a deep voice telling the animal to shut up. The hallway light came on, illuminating through the frosted glass of the door. 

“Can I help you?” Jonathan asked. 

Lucas immediately felt his blood boil upon the sight of the arsehole, and grabbed his throat. “You come anywhere near her again, and I’ll kill you. Do you understand? I have ways of making it look like an accident. Touch her and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

Jonathan’s eyes were wide and his hands were gripping Lucas’, trying to get him to let go. But it was all futile. Lucas had a strong grip and a strong resolve. 

Lucas kept tightening his grip, feeling the anger rage. No one would ever dare upset Amy. No one. But the realisation of his actions soon flicked on, surging forward through the anger. And he let go of Jonathan. 

The man dropped backwards and coughed, holding his throat. He muttered incoherent words, which were lost as Lucas disappeared into the night. 

Amy heard the familiar rattle of a key in the lock of her front door. She pulled herself up from the bed, a migraine beginning in her temples. It was thumping in time with her heartbeat and was slowly shifting to behind her eyes. As she blinked, growing accustomed to the darkness, flashing lights flickered back and forth across her vision. 

Lucas entered the bedroom, her door creaking as he came inside. 

“Where did you go?” Amy asked, looking up to see the dark form of Lucas enter the room. Instinct told her where he had been, but she wanted to hear him say it, and admit to it. 

“It doesn’t matter where I went.” 

“Yes, it does matter. You went to Jonathan’s, didn’t you?” Amy reached across and flicked on the lamp, immediately grimacing as the light caused pain to shoot through her brow and before her eyes. “Lucas, tell me the truth.” 

“Yes, I went to his flat. And I told him that if he comes near you again then I’ll kill him.” 

“Why did you look him up?” Amy asked. “You must have looked up his details to get his address. Why are you doing all of this?” 

Lucas approached Amy and looked down at her, his face full of frustration. “If you had the resources to find the information out regarding someone who was tormenting the person you love, wouldn’t you look it up? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t, Aim.” 

“Let the police do their job.” 

Lucas scoffed. “They do nothing!” 

“Lucas, please. Just leave it. You could get in trouble for looking stuff up like this. And I don’t want you getting in trouble at work because of me. I’m not worth that.” 

Amy watched as Lucas sat down beside her and took her hand in his, then placed a gentle kiss on her lips. They kissed for a few seconds, and then Amy pulled away, sighing. 

“I’d do anything for you. You know that,” Lucas began, his voice almost a whisper. His ice blue gaze was locked on her with such intensity. “Let me look after you. That’s all I want to do.” 

“How much do you know about him? How deep did you look? Lucas, please just tell me. You knew what he looked like when I went out with him, so you’ve been looking at him for some time. Why? Is he linked to something you’re working on? Or is this all to do with me?” 

Amy watched Lucas’ gaze slip as she asked the last question. And it was then that she knew. 

“It’s me, isn’t it? You were watching Jonathan the night that I went out with him. Have you been checking up on me as well? How did you even know that I was seeing him that night?” 

“Amy, please don’t.” Lucas hung his head. Shit! She was digging now. And it was enough to bury him completely. 

“Why did you feel the need to do all of that?” 

“To make sure you were safe. I started caring for you quite a while before anything ever happened between us. Is it so wrong to want to look out for you?” 

“Spying on me is, yes. Looking at information about me that you didn’t even need to be looking at,” Amy replied. She got up from the bed and turned around to face the window. Could she really turn away from him now? After everything that they had built up to; the vetting, him telling her about his job. Judging by the fact that he hadn’t even denied any of the activities meant that she knew now with almost complete certainty that he had been watching her for some time. 

Lucas stood behind her, his body touching hers. He brushed his hands down her upper arms and sighed. “I love you. I can’t be any more direct and honest than that. Everything I’ve done and the lines I crossed were only to protect you.”

Amy turned and looked at him, her heart overwhelmed in her love for this man. Rationally, she knew that he had crossed a line, and that action was wrong. But her heart would not stop yearning for him. His words only made her want him more. To be loved, desired and treasured in such a way, had always been something she dreamed of. Her eyes were filling with tears and she swallowed hard. “I know in my mind rationally that what you did was wrong, but I can’t find it in my heart to hold it against you.” Her gaze searched for his, and she placed her hand against his cheek. 

“When I first met you, Aim, you were closed off to me. This was my way of opening that door, helping things along.”

“Because look at you, Lucas. A man like you wouldn’t normally want a woman like me, and that was why I shut myself down…” 

“Stop it!” Lucas snapped. “You’re doing it again. I don’t get why you think I’m so special in the looks stake and that you don’t deserve love in your life. Adam fucked you up emotionally and I don’t want to keep being blamed. He lost you, and now that I have you, I want to treat you in the way you should be treated. But you won’t let me.”

“I know I’m fucked up,” Amy sobbed. “I know that. Maybe that was why I didn’t want to get close to you in the first place, so then you’d have to see this.” 

“And I’m not fucked up? The one who keeps waking up in a cold sweat in the dead of night? You still have this idea in your head that I’m somehow out of reach. Aim, I’m right here. I’m standing eye to eye with you.” 

“Even though you’re considerably taller than me?” Amy giggled. 

“Oh well, that aside. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” Lucas took Amy into his arms again and held her, the two of them silent. 

I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you. Lucas’ mind told him. I’ve never been able to hold on to anything, but I promise that I will with you. 

***

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[highwaytothedangerzone502]

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 16

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2043

Warnings: None

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when her Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Death By A Thousand Cuts This Feeling

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23

Hangman, although wearing his signature cocky smirk, acted a little subdued. Phoenix, either not noticing or not caring if she did, asked, "What do you want, Bagman?"

"I know you two ladies have a party soon, but I was wondering if I could steal Miss Kazansky away for a few minutes."

Phoenix quirked an eyebrow at Juliette, silently questioning: What's this about?

"I'll be back," Juliette said, shooting her friend an 'I have no clue' look. She didn't. The only thing she could think of was her earlier berating, but Hangman never let anything get under his skin, let alone a girl with no rank or title in the Navy. She was just an admiral's daughter who had her father's way with words, or so Juliette had been told. Even then, she doubted the talent extended to Jake 'Hangman' Seresin.

Hangman led her outside and around the corner of the Hard Deck, away from the crowd. She leaned against the railing once he stopped and asked, "What's going on, Lieutenant?

"I wanted to apologize for earlier today," Hangman said, his usual arrogance gone and replaced with a surprising amount of genuine sincerity. "You asked me not to get under Rooster's skin, and that's exactly what I did. I'm sorry, Juliette."

"Thank you, Jake. Apology accepted," Juliette responded, straightening, "although as much as I appreciate it, I'm not the one who needs it."

Hangman frowned. "What? Maverick can push him, but I can't?"

"That's not your job. You're not Rooster's captain; you're his wingman. Encouraging him to drop down and take the shot that first day was great, even if he didn't listen! But bringing up his dad's death and making it sound like Maverick had something to do with it was absolutely not the way to push him in the way I think you want to."

"What happened with his dad?"

Juliette hesitated, debating whether or not to tell him. Every time she'd told Jake a tidbit about Rooster's life or relationships, he'd used it against the aviator. Still, she couldn't see the harm in telling him the truth about what happened with Goose. Anyone could discover it if they dug into the records long enough. "It was a training exercise gone bad. My dad was there; Maverick was flying as his wingman. They were chasing after Jester, and when my dad wouldn't take the shot, Maverick tried to go around, but Dad cut him off. It caused Maverick to fly through his jet wash and lose both engines. He went into a flat spin that he couldn't recover from. He and Goose managed to eject, but when they did, Goose hit the canopy. It's suspected the impact killed him instantly. Mav became a solo pilot as soon as possible after that. I don't think he wanted the responsibility of another's life in his plane. It's one thing when you have them on your wing, and they can make their own decisions; it's another when they're in the seat behind you with their life in your hands. Maverick is willing to risk his life for the missions, but he's not willing to risk others'."

Hangman's mouth thinned as Juliette's words sank in. "That doesn't explain why Bradshaw lost it when I made the insinuation Maverick got his old man killed. He acts like he hates Mav, but then he defends him."

"It's not my place to tell you what happened between them, but I can tell you before their falling out, Maverick was a dad to Bradley in all but blood. He helped Carole raise him whenever he wasn't halfway across the world for the Navy, sent money to help support them, and put in money for Bradley's college fund, just to name a few. Rooster wanted to be just like Maverick, and then their falling out happened, and this is the first time they've seen each other in fifteen years."

Hangman whistled. "That's a long time for an anger to be festering."

"Yeah…"

"And you're here too."

"I'm less of a problem. I can avoid him if need be. Maverick can't."

"You're his prettiest problem, I'm sure," Hangman said, apparently unable to resist the opportunity to make a flirtatious comment. Juliette smiled but didn't respond, and Jake sighed. "I really wish you hadn't given a valid reason for me needing to apologize to Bradshaw, but… I get it now. If I find a good time, I'll do it, although it probably won't be tonight. I feel if he was left alone with me right now, he'd deck me."

"Probably a good idea to give him at least a day to cool off," Juliette agreed, clasping her hands in front of her. "Thank you, Jake."

"You're welcome," he replied, stepping closer to her. Juliette craned her neck to look up at Hangman. "I can't have my best girl mad at me."

Juliette tilted her head, her mind slowly processing his words. Finally, she started to open her mouth to say something, although exactly what, she had no idea. However, Hangman had other ideas and captured Juliette's lips with his. Jake certainly put the 'sin' in Seresin because the kiss was deliciously passionate, and if Juliette hadn't been so infuriatingly in love with Rooster, she would've let Hangman show her all he was capable of.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Even though they weren't together, there was still something between them, and until Juliette figured out what it was, she felt like she was leading Hangman on toward something that may never happen. Jules pulled away. "Jake, I-I can't."

"Bradshaw?" He guessed correctly. She nodded. "He's a God damn lucky man."

"I'm not sure what's going on between us, just that there's something still there, and I don't want to lead you on when I'm still figuring what's happening between us. It's not fair to you."

Hangman's hands dropped from her face. "If he makes the mistake of letting you go a second time, just give me a call."

"I will, but don't wait for me. Trust me-" Juliette couldn't help but look him up and down, admiring his physique and unnatural good looks- "you will make a girl very happy someday."

"I know," Jake said, smiling cheekily. Juliette rolled her eyes, but her laugh took out the sarcasm. "I won't keep you from your party any longer. Allow me to escort you back in."

Hangman offered his arm for her, and she looped hers through it. "Allowed."

The two of them strolled back inside the Hard Deck. There, they discovered the rest of the bachelorette party had arrived, including the bride-to-be. She zeroed in on Juliette and, with a shocking amount of speed in the now-packed bar, made her way over. Firefly enveloped her friend in a bear hug, demanding, "What the hell were you doing-" her gaze shifted to Hangman momentarily. "Correction, who have you been do-"

"You want a drink?" Juliette interrupted before Firefly could finish her sentence. "First one's on me."

"More like the third one's on you. Phoenix and Maria already beat you to the first two," Firefly remarked, resting her arm on Juliette's shoulder. "Seresin, whatever your intentions are with Juliette-"

"Let me guess, I break her heart, you break my face?" Hangman countered, staring down at the feisty pilot with amusement.

"Along with all the other bones in your body."

"I'm sure Bradshaw would love to help you with that if I-"

"Bradley's here?" Firefly perked up at the name, her eyes locking with Juliette, her silent question evident: are you okay?

"Yes, he and Jake are both here for a special assignment. So is Phoenix. I don't think Rooster's here yet, but I'll let you know if I see him. Listen, I'm going to go get us drinks. I'll meet you over at the table?"

"Sure." Firefly leaned in and whispered, "You better spill what's going on with this love triangle of yours."

"There's not one," Juliette corrected, although with how fast her friend turned to leave, she wasn't sure if the girl heard her. Turning to Jake, Jules said, "I'll see you later?"

"I'm counting on it," Hangman said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. Winking at her, he headed towards the pool table. 

Smiling to herself, Juliette went straight to the bar, somehow managing to capture Penny's attention at the busy counter. The bartender beamed at the sight of her coworker, nodding in approval at her outfit. "You're going to break hearts in that outfit."

"I think I might've already broken one just now," Juliette joked, thinking back to her conversation with Hangman. "Can I get four shots of the best tequila you have?"

"That bad of a day, huh?"

Jules laughed. "Bad day, yes, but not that bad. Not yet, at least. It's for me and my friends."

Penny nodded, lining up the shot glasses and pouring the tequila in them. "There you go. Want to start a tab?"

"Yes, please. I have a feeling these won't be the only ones we order tonight. Thanks, Penny!" Juliette grabbed the shots and turned around, running smack dab into- "Bradley!"

"Jules," Rooster said, his eyes roaming over her with an unidentifiable emotion. "You, uh, you look good."

"Thanks." An awkward silence fell over the former couple, neither of them sure what to say with the tension of the day's training and the memory of last night still fresh in their minds. Thankfully, Juliette's liquid courage from her earlier drinks kicked in, if not only to help her escape the situation by saying, "Well, I should get going before Firefly hunts me down for these drinks. I'll see you later!"

Juliette slid past Rooster before he could respond and swiftly made her way to the table where her friends awaited. She placed the shot glasses on the table and lifted hers. "Here's to Firefly, the bride-to-be, and the friends who will make this bachelorette party one to remember! Semper Fortis!"

"Semper Fortis!" her friends echoed, clinking their glasses together and knocking them back. Maria shook her head and shuddered at the strong taste before deciding she was going to go get a beer to wash the taste down. Phoenix offered to go with her. Firefly and Juliette ordered two drinks for themselves. 

Once the two girls were gone, Firefly jumped at the opportunity to ask, "Girl, you have got so much to tell me!"

"You're not letting me enjoy tonight until I tell you, are you?" Juliette remarked grimly, knowing what the answer would be.

"Absolutely fucking not."

Jules sighed. "Fine, but you're getting the short version because if I gave you the long version, we'd be at this table all night."

"Hit me with it."

Juliette nodded, then quickly dove into the story before Phoenix and Maria got back, starting from the day Rooster strutted into the bar looking like a God, to the kiss and the fight, and to the most recent awkward encounter at the bar. Firefly listened intently, leaning forward on crossed arms as she hung onto every word. When Jules finally finished her story, Firefly asked, "Are you still in love with him? Because he's sure as hell still in love with you."

"Yes, and I hate myself for not moving on after all this time. I feel pathetic. I don't know what to do because I want Bradley to ask me out, but I also know that if we try things again, I'm just going to constantly worry that he'll walk out on me."

"He walked out on you last time for keeping a secret, and apparently, he wanted to come straight back. Find out why he didn't because I have a feeling it's more than his pride and ego being wounded."

"Don't forget the betrayal he felt."

"He's obviously gotten over that, at least with you." Firefly stood up, collecting her shot glasses as Phoenix and Maria approached. "I'm going to go drop these off. I'll be back."

Juliette nodded, plastering on a smile when the other two girls approached. She made a promise to herself to have a drama-free night. As long as Rooster or Hangman didn't talk to her, that could potentially happen. Then again, things never seemed to go the way Juliette planned...

***

Tags: @lgg5989@shanimallina87@polikszena@summ3rlotus@souslesyeuxde@gleasonmalfoy@icemansgirl1999@supernaturaldawning@thedarkinmansfield@lyannaforpresident@lapilark@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth@simpofthecentury @blueeyes-blueskye @gleasonmalfoy @armyx78

[catwatcha]

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Genre: Angst/fluff/smut

Word count: 2153

Warnings: 18+ smut & cursing & fainting

Authors note: shit goes down in this chapter so eeeeeekkkk

You’re too hard to forget.

It’s been one week without any dreams. I have moments where my eyes are closed and I see flashes of images that look like various hospital rooms. But none of them have Chan. I told Jasey what had happened, I think. Honestly my body felt numb and my head was ringing so I don’t know what exactly I said, but I said enough that she would leave me alone, because I don’t want to think about it.

Unfortunately, it’s all I can think about.

It’s Monday morning again. I walk into school and plaster a smile on my face, knowing that I can take off in just six hours. I can do that, right? Yes, I think. I walk over to Jasey as usual, but stop when I see a familiar face. It’s the boy who I saw outside the coffee shop a couple weeks ago. He seems to recognize me too, because he stares at me with wide eyes. “Uhhh,” I say when I look at him, and thankfully Jasey doesn’t seem to notice and interrupts me. “Y/n! You’re here! This is Minho,” she says, and I can see the blush spread across her cheeks. This is her secret. And apparently, mine too. “I’m Y/n,” I say to him, though I’m looking at my shoes. He hesitates, but introduces himself in a similar way. I silently thank him for not saying anything like, ‘I know you’, or, ‘wait you’re the weirdo who’s friends with my girlfriend?’ We shake hands. He smiles. I smile. And then I turn on my heels, because suddenly I feel dizzy and I’m having flashbacks and if I don’t run, my feet might stay grounded forever, in a state of confusion and shock. “Y/n!” Jasey yells after me, but I keep walking, because I don’t know what else to say. I hear a few whispers behind me, and then I feel a hand gently pulling my arm, stopping my escape plan. I don’t want to turn around in fear of explaining myself to Jasey, but this is worse. The person with a grip on my arm is Minho. I see Jasey on the other side of the courtyard, and she knows something because she’s staying put. Does she know what I told him? Does he even know the depth of what I told him? Right now I don’t care. Because no matter what I told them or told myself, the dreams are gone.

Minho lets go of my arm, but I know he wants to know what’s going on. I speak first. “Sorry, I’m running late and I have English and I’m happy for you and Jasey so anyways I’m gonna get going…” I said. “Y/n, yeah?” he says. I nod, and turn away but he reaches for my arm again. “Wait, I want to talk to you for a minute!” he nods over to a bench, inviting me to sit down. But before I can think, my head is spinning and Minho is there and Jasey is rushing over and there I am. I’m shaking, for reasons I don’t know, and there are so many voices yelling at me from reality as well as from my very own mind. My head hits the concrete, and I pass out.

“I’m okay love.” Chan is in a hospital bed. His hair lies flat, and his skin pale. But he still looks like Chan. My Chan. His eyes shine looking up at me, and his lips form into a smile. I hug him. “Why haven’t I been able to see you?” I ask. It’s been days of waiting, hoping, and wondering if he was okay. They wouldn’t let me in, but I knew I could’ve if he wanted me to. “Why didn’t you let me see you?” I asked as my eyes filled with familiar tears. “Because even though I was hurt, I knew that if you saw me it would hurt you too. And seeing you hurt causes me more pain than anything physical ever could.” I thought about his words, but only for a moment. Because the next thing I know, I’m consumed in a kiss that made my heart stop. I missed him. But he’s okay. It’s us against the world, and I knew nothing would change that. We were back. Chan was going to be okay, and so was I.

I woke up in the nurse’s office. I’ve only been here a few times, usually when I faked a cough to get out of class or when I get migraines. This time though it felt like I was in the middle of some depressing party, held just for me. To my right, Jasey and Minho are standing over me, talking in worried tones. About what, I don’t know. To my left, I see my mom, and that’s when I think this is serious. Then again, She was probably just obligated to be called because of the school phone call I’m sure she received. As if I had pushed some sort of button, the all look at me at the exact same time. Well, I think. This is awkward. Mrs. Amy, our school nurse, is the first to speak. “Y/n, can you hear me? You hit your head pretty hard. Do you want some water?” I shake my head. I don’t want water. I want to go back to bed. Because even though my head is actually pounding, and I’m still a bit nauseous, none of it matters right now. Chan is back. Why now? I look at Minho. He looks at me. When I shook his hand, something felt so familiar. Like he was connected somehow, but no matter. “Thank you.” I say, and I’m smiling like an idiot. He looks at me confused, but I get up and I walk out of the crowded office. And I’m running, because I have so much to do but I have only one place to go right now. I’m going to the coffee shop, and I’m not going to be scared to go in this time. It could be the beginning of the rest of my life if I would just take the extra three steps.

Minho’s P.O.V.

“Minho, I’m so confused right now,” Jasey says to me. “We literally just watched Y/n pass out hard, and then run away like she got a shot of adrenaline.” It was about 9 a.m.now, so I was very late to school. I decided to just skip today in general. This was far more interesting than world history. “I don’t know, Jae. I don’t even know her,” I say. Y/n and I hadn’t even really met that day at the coffee shop. Is this about what she said to me then? I barely remember. I just remember trying to comfort someone who looked a bit shaken up. I never thought she might be broken completely. Maybe this has something to do with that Chan kid? Maybe a breakup, who knows. I love Jasey, but do I have to deal with her friend now? It’s bad enough that Chris is already going through some breakup with a girl he won’t tell me about, and he’s slept at my house every night this week. We play music and he reads and I like that he makes me pizza (that boy can fucking cook, even if it’s just simple things), but I don’t know Y/n. I can’t handle this too. “You should talk to her,” I say to Jasey. “She’s just going through something right now,” she says back, and looks down at her shoes. I think. And then I have a stupid brilliant idea, that could help both me and Jae. We were both so caught up with our friends that we never got much time together. “You know,” I say. “If she’s going through a breakup, I may have an idea. Or even not a breakup, but just rough shit. I know it’s hard and stuff, but I think she should talk to one of my friends. Actually, I think they’d get along really well. They could keep each other company.” I mean, Chris and Y/n. I think they’d be cute. “Calum, that’s never going to happen. I’m sorry baby, but Y/n is taken. I mean, sorta.” She’s laughing, like what I said, it was the dumbest idea in the world. Ouch. “She’ll be okay. I’ll talk to her later,” she says. Oh well. Was worth a shot, if not for Y/n, for Chris at least. I apply her last words to him as well. He’ll be okay. Everything will be fine.

Y/n’s P.O.V.

I’m scared again. Five minutes ago, I told myself to take a deep breath and just walk in. That was after the twenty minutes of standing there, pretending to be on my phone and thinking. I did this so nobody would ask me what’s wrong, like Minho did. Big mistake. But now I’m here and I’m scared. Thinking about Chan always made me feel dizzy because I didn't know what was real and what was a dream. It felt like it had all just become one big blur, dragging myself to and from school, skipping my way to meet Chan and trudging my way to meet Jasey at her place. She knew about the shop, and she knew that I’d never gone in, even though I was there so often. After running out of school this afternoon, she deserved a call from me, at the least. So I called her and went over to her place, and here we are back at the same downtown corner with the smell of coffee and muffins drifting through the air. I was smiling like an idiot, and had told Jasey why I was so adamant about getting out of school. I left out the part about Minho. To me he was just another human on this earth who happened to be dating my best friend, but he had a weird effect on me. I definitely didn’t tell Jasey. She didn’t ask. “Are you ready? Let’s just grab something to go, I’m really thirsty anyways.” I knew I couldn’t stand there like an idiot for any longer. I almost lost Chan once, the worst had already happened. I knew I was ready for anything. I took one last deep breath before bracing myself, and I took my first steps into the nostalgic feeling cafe.

I took in this new feeling, both the physical and mental aspects of it. It was exactly the kind of place that I dreamed of spending hours in, reading books and writing poetry. It had dim lights and a few couches, and wooden tables were scattered around the room. It’s exactly what I knew it would be, aside from a few changes here and there, but I couldn’t help but take it all in with wide eyes. Jasey had left to go order a drink for her and myself, and I went to the table that faces the window, like I had known myself to do many times before, yet never before while conscious. This was a feeling that I was starting to like very fast. At first I couldn’t remember why I was even here, but that was only for a moment. I looked around me, but I saw no sign of a dark haired boy with the eyes that I drowned in every night. There was barely anyone here, actually. I still saw my best friends backside at the counter, waiting for our drinks and striking up a conversation with the barista. A few seats over was a boy who caught my eye.

He had bright blonde hair that was down across his forehead. His shirt was tattered, but in a fashionable way, which he wore with black skinny jeans and dirty black converse. His eyes were piercing right into mine, a dark brown that I wish didn’t scare me as much as they did. I looked down at my hands to see them shaking the smallest bit. There was something about his presence that made me uncomfortable, but at the same time like I belonged even more. He looked out of place, but acted like it didn’t matter. Just like me. I looked up again, surprised to see that he was still staring at me with an unknown emotion in his eyes. He looked confused, almost. He stood up, and I unconsciously held my breath, not knowing why he was walking over to my table. The door was behind me, but he wasn’t looking at the door. He was looking right at me, almost as if he was looking through me. He stood 2 feet from me now at a dead stop. I studied his face, while I’m sure mine had “shock” written all over it.

“Allie?”

[maybe-a-fangurl]

The Moon and the Sun (Zuko x Reader) part 9

I’m back!! I am so sorry that it has taken so long to update this story, school started and I just got completely wrapped up in that and then had the worst writers block but I am starting to get back into things. I have also recently become OBSESSED with Harry Potter and have a few one shot ideas (and will gladly take requests) but my priority right now is this story and I will be trying to post at least once a week again. But here is the new chapter, and I hope you all enjoy and that it was worth the wait!! 

Part 1 Part 8

Masterlist

It was a simple plan, follow Jet to where they were keeping Appa. That was all you had to do but you shouldn’t have been surprised that things didn’t go as planned, for you at least. You were walking at the back of the group, and as they went around the corner you were spotted by a Dai Lee agent. You of course told everyone to go as you ran in the opposite direction, causing the Dai Lee agent to follow you and not notice the others, who you know weren’t happy about you getting split up from the look on Sokka’s face as you ran away, but you knew it was for the best. It didn’t take long for you to lose the Dai Lee agent, but you quickly realized that you had no idea where you were or which way to go to get back to the group.

Even though you were lost, you had to admit that the silence was something you found almost endearing. Silence was one of the things you missed about traveling with Zuko, you could always go out on the deck of the ship and just look out at the endless blue of water and sky. You loved your new friends, but they overwhelmed you at times and there was hardly ever a moment to just catch your breath since you were constantly on the move.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the footsteps walking towards you, and as you rounded the corner you ran into someone and were sent to the ground. You didn’t look to see who it was before you took all of the water from the floor of the tunnels and used it to hit the person right in the chest, sending them to the ground in front of where you were but before you could get up you felt something connect with your hands and you looked to see it was rocks. You quickly looked up to see that three Dai lee agents were standing in front of you, and one on the ground from where you hit him with water.  

“You’re with the Avatar.” One of the Dai Lee agents said as they looked at you, and you felt your heart drop as you realized they would use you against Aang just like they were doing with Appa if they captured you. You were quick to use your feet to bring the water at the group, sending them all to the ground as you scrambled to your feet, and by the time you had broken the rocks around your hands, all of the men were back on their feet.  

“I couldn’t just stay with the others.” You mumbled to yourself as you froze the floor under them before turning and running in the other direction, hearing the soldiers yell as they tried to get across the ice. You kept running, ignoring the yelling behind you as you turned a corner that led to a hallway with a dead end. You turned around, planning to go in the other direction but as you turned you were hit in the chest by one of the rock fists. The sudden impact knocked the breath out of you, you were sent backwards and when you hit the ground everything went black.

--

“You and I would have made such an amazing team, not as good as you and Zuzu but we would have been powerful together. If only the two of you wouldn’t have ruined it.” You heard a cold voice say as you slowly started to become aware of the pain in the back of your head. You slowly opened your eyes before letting out a groan and putting your hands over your face, the light causing a sharp pain to go through your head. “Ah you’re awake, I knew that my voice would bring you back.”

You slowly pulled your hands away from your eyes and as you looked up you seen Azula standing with a smirk on her face. You looked at her with your eyebrows knitted before looking around, trying to figure out where you were but you realized that you were still in what looked like the Dai Lee’s headquarters.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as you realized that if you were still at the Dai Lee headquarters that meant that Azula was in Ba Sing Se. You quickly got up from the ground, trying to ignore the pounding in your head as the room started to spin.

“Not happy to see me?” Azula asked as she looked at your attempt of a defensive stance. You just narrowed your eyes as you finally were able to look at her, and when you did you noticed that she was in a Kyoshi warrior armor.

“Where did you get that?” You asked through gritted teeth, her smirk only growing at your reaction.

“Mai, Ty Lee, and I ran into some of your friends. Don’t worry they’re all okay, just in prison. But their little dresses were able to get us into Ba Sing Se and then I met with the Dai Lee and we’ve all been great friends since.” She said in a pride filled voice, one that made your skin crawl.

You knew that right now you wouldn’t be able to beat her in a fight, but you also knew that since you were injured she wouldn’t expect anything. So, while she was focused on her story you took your chance and lunged at her, causing her to let out a small scream as the two of you went to the ground. You were quick to pin her arms down with your knees and use the rest of your weight to hold down her torso. The shock on her face was quickly replaced with anger as she struggled against you but eventually let out a sigh and glared at you.

“What are you going to do? Hold me down until your friends come? Well I hate to tell you, but they aren’t going to make it.” She said, and your heart dropped at her words, and you pressed down harder against her arms as you narrowed your eyes.  

“Why are you here Azula?” You asked in a cold tone, one that shocked her, but she didn’t let it show as she let out another cold laugh.

“I’m here to take the Earth Kingdom, claim it in the name of the Fire Nation.” She said in a calm voice, the pride and arrogance practically dripping from her lips as she looked up at you with that same smirk that she had been wearing since you were kids.

“You’re not going to.” You said, trying to sound sure of it but even you didn’t believe it. You knew that if she had all of the Dai Lee agents with her along with Mai and Ty Lee, and possibly other fire nation soldiers along with the element of surprise that the Earth Kingdom didn’t stand a chance.

“I already have.” She stated and before you had the chance to say anything back you heard the door open and looked to see Mai and Ty Lee walk in, both of them letting out a gasp as they seen you pinning Azula down.

“I really didn’t think you had it in you.” Mai said in a flat tone, and you knew that deep down she enjoyed seeing Azula being bested.

“You could join us you know.” Ty Lee pleaded, and as you moved your eyes away from Mai to her you could see the desperation in her eyes. “You could help us.”

“She wouldn’t even betray her new friends for Zuzu, don’t think that she would for us.” Azula said and you watched Ty Lee’s face drop, realization setting in. They knew that they weren’t going to change your mind, that things would never be the same as they were when you were kids, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. And you would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt you as well, because deep down you longed to be on the same side as your friends.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled as you looked away from Ty Lee and over to Mai, and right as you made eye contact her gaze hardened.

“Me too.” Mai said as she started to throw knifes your way, you were able to dodge the first one but the second one caught your arm and you were forced to move off of Azula to dodge the third one.

As you stood back up the room spun a little bit from your head still being tender, and the spinning was enough to make you miss the fourth knife coming your way until it was right in front of you. You tried to dodge it but you stumbled and it slid across the side of your face, causing Ty Lee to let out a gasp. Before you had any time to react Azula swept your feet out from under you, causing you to land on your back as you let out a groan.  “Truly you should have thought all of that through just a little more.” Azula said as she stood up and rubbed her arms where your knees were just moments ago. You tried to get up but before you could you felt something pin your wrist to the ground and as you looked up you seen Dai Lee agents entering the room. You tried to pull your hands out of the rock fists, but it was no use, and as you looked over at Azula you seen a pity filled look before she put her stoic expression back on. “You know where to take her.”

“Yes princess.” The man said as you were pulled up from the ground, and they started dragging you towards a door.

“I’m really sorry it has to be this way, but I assure you that you won’t be alone for very long.” She said, and you watched as the smirk returned to her face. “You and Zuzu can have some quality time, if he doesn’t put up too much of a fight.” “No.” You said as you realized she knew that him and Iroh were here. You started to move around, trying to get loose from the agents grip on your arms but it was no use. “Azula, you better not hurt him!” “Well I can’t make any promises, he is traitor to the Fire Nation after all.” She said as her smirk grew, and you tried to fight harder against the guards.

“Azula!” You yelled as they continued to drag you away, you yelled as many threats as you could at her, but you knew they were all pointless. She was going to do whatever she wanted to do and there was nothing that you could do about it.

You felt numb as you were left alone in a chamber full of crystals, and it took everything in you to sit up and lean against one of the crystals. You were able to use the rest of the water in your pouch to heal the cut on your arm and face the best you could but with the small amount of water you knew that there would still be a scar.

“I should have just stayed with them.” You mumbled to yourself as you laid your head back against the crystals and closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion take over.

“Zuko what happened to your eye?” You asked as you rushed over to him, putting your hand on the side of his face as you looked at him. His eye was badly bruised, and as you looked closer at him you realized that he had a cut across his nose as well. “Who did this?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” He grumbled as he pushed you away, walking past you and down the hallway. “Well I want you to.” You said as you walked behind him, trying to catch up with him. “I want to know who did this to you.” “It isn’t any of your business!” Zuko yelled as he turned around and looked at you, his hand going up and pointing at you, causing you to flinch. His eyes got wide as he seen you flinch and he immediately brought his hands to his side as he looked at you with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to talk about it.” “Okay.” You said and before you could say anything else he turned and walked away from you. You let out a sigh before walking towards the turtle duck pond, it was one of the only places in the castle that you truly felt like you belonged. Everywhere else felt so hot and dry but by the pond you could felt at home, you could feel the water moving around the pond and feel the water within the plants.  

You sat down and looked down at the turtle ducks as they swam around, bringing a small smile to your face before the thought of Zuko raising his hand and yelling at you made it disappear.

“Why so sad y/n? Is Zuzu mad about being bested and not talking to you?” She asked in a cocky tone as she walked up behind you, and you turned to see her signature smirk on her face, but as she seen the look on your face is softened a little bit. “Don’t tell me he took his anger out on you.” “It was my fault I shouldn’t have pushed him.” You said before raising your eyebrows at her comment. “What do you mean bested?” “We spared today, and I beat him.” She said in a proud tone, but her smirk fell as you looked at her, causing her to let out a scoff. “Don’t be mad that I’m better than your boyfriend.” “He isn’t my boyfriend.” You said to her before looking back at the water. “I just don’t understand why you have to take things so far, you didn’t have to hurt him.” “I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” She said as she sat down beside you, and you just shook your head as you kept your eyes on the water.

“He’s your brother, you shouldn’t want to hurt him.” You said as you let out a sigh and looked over at her. “Your mother always wanted the two of you to get along, and I do too because it’s insufferable when the two of you are fighting, especially when you try to use me against one another.” “Well my mother isn’t here so it doesn’t really matter what she wants, does it?” She asked in a cold tone as she turned away from you, looking at the turtle ducks. “And I don’t bother using you against Zuko, it’s no use because you always chose him over me.” “That isn’t true Azula, and you know it.” You said to her, but she just let out a scoff.

“It’s okay, I know the truth.” She said in the same cold tone as before, but her words were less bitter and more sorrowful than before. “You and Zuzu will always be the perfect team, me never having your true loyalty.”

Part 10

@tpwkatsumu @caswinchester2000 @frickin-bats @winchestergirl907 @eridanuswave @the-firebender-girl @myarthetics @royahllty @izzieserra @akariblue  @coldlilheart @thirstyforsometea @cirtruss @lammello @bigbuckyenergy @aangsupremacy @lozzybowe @duh-dobrik @emogril @justab-eautifulmess @whalerus @im-me-and-noone-else @nataliahaslosthershit @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @slytherky @shemakesfanvids @sokkas-honour

[ghstandpucks]

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch. 9

Hi everyone! I hope you are all doing well! Sorry this chapter took forever! But I hope you enjoy it! I have the rest of the series planned out, and it should be about 6 more chapters. I’m excited about where it is going and I hope you are too! Stay healthy, safe, and enjoy! Let me know what you think! Tags are open!

Prologue Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

The following Wednesday you were at practice. Bednar had the team gathered in a semi-circle as he informed them of the upcoming schedule before the holidays. “Oh and Coach Y/L/N. In case you didn’t know, we are playing Anaheim this Sunday,” Bednar turned back toward you.

           “Oh yay!” you said, clapping your hands together quickly. You couldn’t help but be excited to see some of your friends on the Ducks again. As soon as you said that though, you had many unapproving looks shot at you from the team. “I mean, oh no?”

“Who are you really rooting for Coach?” Tyson called out.

           “You guys, obviously,” you stated flippantly. “I know how they skate and I know how their skating coach skates so we got this.” Bednar chuckled.

           “I was going to ask if there is anything we should know about your time with the team?” he asked, and you looked at him questioningly.

           “No?” you said, confused at where he was going with this.

           “Just asking. Hockey players make comments and I would like for us to be prepared if they say anything about you,” he explained.

           “Oh,” you said, and thought for a second. “To be honest, I was mostly just around them for a quick showcase, charity events, or galas that they had. I have a few good friends from the team but I don’t think they would really say anything. I was more like everyone’s little sister when I was with them,” you said and everyone nodded. “Oh! If you hear the term ‘little dove’, that’s me.”

           “Little dove?” Gabe asked, and you shrugged.

           “A few called me little duck at first. But then after a showcase at one of their events I had performed in this greyish-pink dress and Getzlaf started to call me little dove. The rest of the team just followed along,” you explained. You caught eyes with Nate, and he smiled softly. You had just told him about that nickname last week when he saw a comment on your Instagram post from Hampus Lindholm. You had posted a funny picture from practice of Tyson laying flat on the ice and you doubled over laughing at him because he had seemingly tripped over nothing. You accompanied it with a caption of how the team always seems to brighten your day with a laughing emoji. Hampus commented “We feel so betrayed little dove.”

           After practice that day, Nate was over at your apartment after having gone to the store to get stuff for dinner. You wanted to cook that night, so he thought it was only fair if he bought the groceries. Since the two of you had started dating, you tended to stay in at his or your place, not wanting to fuel rumors. A picture of the two of you dancing at the gala was posted recently, the media team not thinking much of it, but oh boy did it spread like wildfire. While your fans thought it was cute, Nate’s fans were a mix. You were starting to see how vicious some hockey fans could be.

           You were finishing the shrimp for shrimp scampi when Nate came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I have a question,” he mumbled into the hair at the top of your head. You hummed, encouraging him to go on. “What do you want for Christmas?” he asked. You smiled, forgetting that it was already December.

           “Nothing,” you said simply.

           “There has to be something,” Nate stole a shrimp from the pan and you batted his hand away. He chuckled and kissed your cheek. You finished the dish, turned off the stove, and turned to face him.

           “Well, there is something,” you smiled up at him. Nate smiled back at you, raising his eyebrow in question. “A unicorn.” Nate’s face fell and you couldn’t help but laugh.

           “Seriously Y/N?”

           “Actually, in all seriousness, I want a unicorn that poops rainbows. But I know those are hard to find,” you laughed as Nate rolled his eyes at you. He maneuvered you away from the stove and lifted you onto the counter, standing in between your legs.

           “Why are you being difficult?” Nate asked, humor in his voice.

           “Well what do you want for Christmas?” you asked, smiling widely at him. Nate shrugged.

           “I don’t need anything,” he said.

           “It’s not about what you need. What do you want?”

           “Nothing.” Nate smiled mockingly at you.

           “You can’t say nothing and expect me to tell you something!” You laughed. The conversation went on like this for another 10 minutes, neither one of you giving in. You kept up with wanting a unicorn, much to Nate’s dismay. He knew he wasn’t the most romantic, and really wanted to get this right with you. Since he wouldn’t tell you anything though, you didn’t budge either. It seemed like you had both met your match when it came to stubbornness.    

           A while later, Nate had just got out of the shower and you were finishing putting the dishes away from dinner. As you turned your lights off and made sure your front door was locked, you looked out the window and immediately smiled. It was snowing. Running into your bedroom, you started to grab your big coat and a beanie, shoving your feet into a pair of boots. “Going somewhere?” Nate asked as he walked out of the bathroom, highly confused.

           “It’s snowing outside! Let’s go!” you squealed, throwing his shirt and sweatshirt at him.

           “This isn’t the first time it’s snowed since you’ve been here Y/N,” Nate chuckled, but continued to get dressed to go outside.

           “Yes, but it usually happens when I’m sleeping or at the rink! I haven’t been out while it’s snowing yet!” You bounced around your room, continuing to check the window to make sure snow was still falling.

           “It’s just snow,” Nate said, finally finishing putting his shoes on. You grabbed his hand and pulled him to your front door.

           “Yes, but I’m from Southern California! I always had to drive to the snow. I want to go outside while it’s coming down actually!” You grabbed your keys and left your apartment. Nate allowed you to drag him along, silently amused at your excitement. Luckily for the two of you, your apartment building had a secluded courtyard in the middle so you didn’t have to go out front to the main street. This allowed Nate and you not to worry about being seen together this late at night. That would definitely be the source of more speculation.

           Once outside, you giggled with excitement and ran to the middle of the empty courtyard. Looking up toward the sky, you stuck your tongue out to catch the snow as it came down. Nate walked up beside you and grabbed your hand. You took out your phone and had Nate take a picture of the two of you, realizing you really didn’t have any. What better way to commemorate your first snow in Colorado than with Nate? After spinning around all excited for a moment, you walked back over to Nate and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his sweatshirt as your nose was starting to freeze. Nate held you close to him, looking down and tilting your chin up so you met his eyes. He chuckled softly at your red cheeks and nose, leaning down and fitting his lips to yours. The two of you stood there for a moment, lost in a blissful bubble you had created.  You pulled away slightly and shivered, the cold starting to get to you. Nate smiled softly and kissed your forehead. “Let’s get you inside before you freeze,” he muttered, taking your hand and leading you back up to your apartment. Once back in your apartment and in your pajamas, you crawled into bed and over to Nate who was already laying down looking through his phone. You cuddled into his side and weaved your legs with his.

           “Jesus babe! Your feet are freezing!” he jumped slightly, putting his phone down. You laughed but didn’t move.

           “Poor circulation from tying my skates too tight over the years. Sorry,” you giggled. Nate shook his head, but didn’t bother moving. If being with you meant dealing with cold feet, he didn’t think that was a bad price to pay.

~ ~ ~

           Sunday had arrived and it brought with it the Ducks. You were currently standing by the bench with the other coaches as the team was warming up. You had just finished talking with Bradie Tennell, the skating coach for the Ducks. The two of you were on the Olympic team together and had become good friends. She let you know that the team had been good to her so far, and that made you happy. You were leaning against the board when Ryan Getzlaf skated up to you.

           “How are they treating you, little dove?” he asked, and you smiled at the familiarity of the name. The question didn’t surprise you; he had always been protective. You were young and talented when you first started to skate in Anaheim, and some of the rookies took interest in you. Being so focused on making the Olympic team though, you barley noticed. The captain announced one practice that you were off limits, and they complied. After that it seemed the whole team had become extra protective of you.  

           “Good! They’re a good group. I like it here,” you answered honestly. He nodded and looked back out over the ice.

           “Is that why it looks like I’m about to get in a fight with 29 tonight?” Ryan smirked at you. You found Nate on the ice and smiled at him, and the tension in his jaw seemed to release as he went back to what he was doing. Nate knew you were friends with the Ducks and figured some may go talk to you; but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy that they could talk to you so openly and no one would question it while the two of you had to date secretly.

           “He’s just protective like you are,” you tried to laugh it off, but Ryan gave you a look that said you were not fooling him. You smiled sweetly and he shook his head.

           “Whatever you say little dove,” Ryan said and skated off.

           “Be nice!” you yelled after him and he let out a laugh.

           “Will you stop fraternizing with the enemy Coach?” Tyson asked skating into the box.

           “Just for you Tyson,” you winked at him.

           Later, the third period had just began and the teams were tied. The whole game had been a back and forth with scoring. A few times when one of the Ducks would skate by, they would say hi, wave, or wink at you. The winking seemed to happen only when Nate was on the bench, and you were wondering if Ryan had said anything. You needed to work on being a better liar.

           Nate was on the ice when Hampus Lindholm skated by before a face off. “You know, we were all sad when Y/N left us to come here. I would think she’s a good coach,” Hampus judged Nate’s reaction. Nate side-eyed him, but didn’t say anything. “She’s cute too,” Hampus pushed a bit further. The Ducks’ captain had said that chirping about Y/N was off limits, but he had also said he felt it may get under MacKinnon’s skin. When you talked about being friends with some of the Ducks, Hampus was one of them. He didn’t want to be disrespectful toward you, but he thought it would be fun to see if he could push the center’s buttons. Nate took a deep breath and continued to ignore him. “You know she was my date to a charity event once,” Hampus continued. Nate did know this; you had told him you went as friends since you were going to the charity also. He knew it was nothing, he knew Lindholm was trying to dig at him, but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t bother him. When the puck was dropped, Nate threw himself into the defenseman, promptly flattening him out on the ice.

           Nothing was called and the play kept going, but you stood behind the bench with wide eyes. What had just happened? You were so distracted in your own thoughts that you hadn’t realized the buzzard had gone off, signaling an Avs’ goal. Turning your attention back to the team celebrating at the end of the ice, you saw them all gathering around Nate. Of course you had missed it. That was the only score of the third period, the Avs winning 3-2.

           After the game and interviews were done, you had said bye to some of the guys and Bradie. Nate had asked if you wanted to stay at his place that night, so you made your way to his apartment. You texted him that you were there, and he told you the front was unlocked. Upon walking into his apartment, he called you over to the couch where he was laying down and pulled you down on top of him. You gave him a quick kiss, then settled your chin on his chest, looking at him expectantly. “So,” you started. Nate knew where the conversation was going.

           “You really did just go to the charity thing with Lindholm as friends, right?” he asked, furrowing his brow a little.

           “Yeah, that’s all it was. Why?”

           “He said you were his date,” Nate shrugged and started to play with your hair, twisting and untwisting a strand around his finger.

           “As friends. I have no feelings for him whatsoever,” you explained, then realized why he was asking you to clarify. “Is that why you hit him so hard during the game?” Nate averted his eyes from you, slightly ashamed he let what Lindholm had said get to him. You giggled, knowing that was the issue. “Nate, babe. There was nothing there, nor will there every be anything there. And that goes for the rest of everyone. Don’t let it get to you okay,” you said, kissing him softly. You pulled away and rested your palm against his cheek. “Plus, he’s not my type.” That perked Nate right up.

           “So, what is your type?” he wrapped his arms around you with a smirk.    

           “Big, burly, 6-foot Canadians with blue eyes who are just as stubborn as I am,” you smirked at him. Nate rolled his eyes, but laughed and pulled you in for another kiss. He flipped the two of you so that your back was to the couch now with him hovering over you. Nate started placing quick kisses all over your face and you giggled as his stubble tickled your neck. The two of you stayed like that for a while longer before ordering take out and getting ready for bed.

~ ~ ~

           The holidays fast approached, and you were thankful the team had four days off for Christmas. You had already booked a flight back home for the morning of Christmas Eve, and would be flying back to Denver on the morning of the 26th. For you, going home was easy as it was only a two in a half hour flight. You had booked it when you first got the schedule back in September. You were starting to feel bad that not everyone on the team would be going home though, Nate included. If you had known that you would have been in any sort of relationship, you may have opted to stay as well. When you brought this up to Nate, he told you not to worry about it, and that he would even take you and pick you up from the airport.

           On the 23rd, you and Nate had just got back to your apartment after having dinner with everyone who was still in town. Since there were multiple people going, you figured nothing would come of it to be seen out with Nate in public. The two of you were still keeping your relationship from mostly everyone on the team, so it was easy to act like you had been at practice. To anyone who didn’t know, it just looked like you two were good friends.

           You showered and put your pajamas on, setting out your present for Nate on the coffee table and finding a movie to watch while he showered. You had settled on watching a Hallmark Christmas movie, because who doesn’t secretly love the cheesiness of it all? Nate sat down next to you on the couch and pulled you into his side. Placing a blanket over the both of you, you settled into watching the movie, pointedly trying to ignore the Christmas gift bag he had set down on the coffee table next to your gift to him.

           After the movie, you turned the tv off and just enjoyed being in each other’s company. The only lights on were the Christmas lights from the fake tree you had set up, and other Christmas lights you had decorated with. Your apartment looked a bit like Christmas exploded in it, but it made you happy and Nate laugh. You made some hot chocolate, and sat back down facing Nate. Handing him his, you took a sip and set your mug down on the coffee table, in turn picking up your gift to him. “Present time!” you sang, handing him the gift. You weren’t sure what he would think of it, realizing it was difficult to buy for someone who seemingly had everything he wanted.

Nate unwrapped the gift, and smiled upon taking it out of the box. It was a wooden watch, one that you had found on Etsy. It was a dark stained wood that you had engraved on the back of the watch face. As Nate turned it over in his hands, he smiled wider and chuckled. You were able to convince the designer to engrave a hockey skate and a figure skate. Above the skates read “Merry Christmas” with the year, and both your initials. “I know you already have a watch, but I thought the wood was neat and I was excited when the person said they could engrave the skates on it, and…” you were cut off from your rambling by Nate pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“It’s perfect Y/N. Thank you,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead and admiring the thoughtful gift. He set it down and handed you the gift bag. You smiled while you took the tissue paper off the top, feeling fabric at the bottom of the bag and took it out. You laughed, seeing the familiar burgundy and blue. Holding it out in front of you, you saw the 29 on the arm, turning it around to see ‘MacKinnon’ on the back. While you unfolded it though, a smaller box fell into your lap. “I know you can’t wear it to games, but I wanted to get you my jersey,” Nate explained as you slipped it on over your pajama top.

“Thank you,” you said, blushing slightly and turning your attention to the box. Opening it up, you saw the most beautiful, small and delicate figure skate charm you had even seen. It was gold with diamonds encrusted into it. Taking it out of the box, you noticed it was attached to a delicate gold chain as a necklace. You turned it over in your hand, feeling something on the back of the charm. You giggled, noticing a ‘29’ engraved onto the back.  “Nate, it’s beautiful.”

“I thought you could at least wear my number to games this way. If you don’t like it we can go get you something else,” Nate looked at you unsure, and you shook your head.

“Help me put it on?” you asked, and turned around. Nate deftly clasped the necklace together. “How does it look?”

“Perfect,” he said, and you grinned at him.

“I love it, thank you,” you said, and leaned in to kiss him. What was an innocent gesture quickly turned heated as Nate pulled you onto his lap, you straddling him. Your fingers carded through the hair at the nape of his neck as his hands pushed the hem of the jersey and your pajama shirt up, gripping your hips. You pulled back after some time, needing to take a breath and maneuvered yourself to where you were sitting in Nate’s lap and leaned your head on his shoulder. Nate chuckled, kissing your forehead.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you can’t wear my jersey to games. I don’t think I could concentrate,” he mumbled. You giggled and pecked his neck, the both of you settling back down.

The following morning Nate drove you to the airport. Thankful for his tinted windows, you kissed him quickly before anyone would figure out who the both of you were and grabbed your bags. “Merry Christmas Nate,” you said, slipping out of the car.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?” he said with a soft smile, and you felt your heart tug at the thought of leaving him for a few days. It struck you that this was the first time since September you wouldn’t be around him almost every day.

“I will,” you returned his smile. Nate quickly reached over the center counsel for your hand, bringing it up to his lips.

“Merry Christmas Y/N,” he said lightly, realizing the same thing you were. You grabbed your bags and smiled, waving as you shut the door and headed into the airport. Nate made sure you were inside the building before he took off, not being bothered by the honks he was receiving from annoyed holiday travelers.      

Tags: @bqstqnbruin​ @avsfans95​ @comphybiscuit​ @calesykar​ @andreiaafaria​

[hopeassassin]

Rally’s Scribbles in the Work

So after that lovely anon blew my mind away with their kind words and wonderful support, and because I keep telling you guys about my writing plans without actually giving you even a teensy little detail, I have decided to stop being coy and actually likely get your hopes up a bit by dilvulging small details and bits of plots of what is currently going on in my G-Drive. 

This will be a brief recount of what I have currently baking in the AoMomo oven, so let’s dive right into it! Please note that the numbers are in no particular order - I just keep revisiting each of these stories and writing a bit more to them whenever I feel like it. So there’s no ranking and no importance, just a number to keep proper count.

1. “Knight of Renown” Dragons and Knighthood AU, based on that one AoMomo pic with Momo ithe Knight and Dragon Aomine that I reblogged a while back and I actually let me imagination go a bit too much in the tags. I ended up actually rather enjoying the premise I set up in the tags so I actually started writing that one out!  Completion rate at about: 5%? I’d say? Less? :D 

2. AoMomo Music AU - a dearly beloved project that I am pouring a lot of love and attentioin to. That’s why it’s coming along super slow. It’s been in the making since November and I chewed it and mulled through it so thoroughly that I’ve grinded to a halt with it. Intending for there to be 2 chapters, and I am at about 25-30% of chapter 1 currently ready currently. At the pace I’m going, it might be another full year before you actually get to see this bad boy up, but when you do, I’m sure you’ll see all the care and effort that went into making it perfect. Honestly, no joke here, I am intending for this to be one of my rare masterpieces in this tag. So I’m not gonna rush it!

3. AoMomo Car Accident AU where Daiki barely manages to save Satsuki from being run over by a hit-and-run and ends up being the one run over instead. This was my first piece of writing after coming back to AoMomo last summer and yet completion rate is a sad thing. I want it to be flawless, a perfectly agonizing, thrilling type of torturous read that gives you a great sense of relief by the end of it. Needless to say, the clusterfuck of negative feelings is a bit difficult to hold onto for a prolonged period of time and the work is coming along slowly. Planned at about 5 chapters, I have 2 complete ones and the 3rd one is at about ... 30%? Hopefully before this year’s whumptober, we’ll have a finished piece!

4. AoMomo bond character study, which went in a direction I did NOT expect nor intend. It was suppsoed to be an idea that you will see also listed below. But I started this one from their early childhood and somehow, instead of focusing on the kids and their bond and their weird interactions with each other and their first moments of realizing they are of opposite genders, it turned into something much too fun to let go of and the ideas for scenes just kept piling. It’s going to be a long one, very explorative and very in-depth character study on the bond between these two and how it changed over the years, and their first encounters with their sexuality inbetween (because that was really the main idea that I started with... xDDD;;;) Currently at 1 chapter complete, chapter 2 somewhere around 50-60% completion, and at least 6-7 chapters to come after that, soooo.... :’DDDD YEAH. THIS ONE AIN’T SEEING THE LIGHT OF DAY ANYTIME SOON.

5. AoMomo deciding to practice stuff on each other, because I am a sucker for this trope.THIS will be what the idea under previous number 4 was SUPPOSED to be like, but it instead spun out of control. So this one, under number 5, is going to be the smutty, idiots bumbling through physicality to discover that they actually have serious feelings for each other kind of piece. Chapters are planned at about at least 6-7 or so, but not my usual monstrocities! :D First we start with practice kissing, and we move our way up from there! 

6. “The Evil of Humanity” AU - a dystopian futuristic kinda mecha AU, sort of an amalgamation of some of my favourite anime in the genre - a bit of NGE, a bit of Gurren-Lagann, a lot of Darling in the Franxx rewrite and improvement, in distinctly AoMomo colors. I poured a lot of thought and love into initial outline of main moments for this one, and I really hope to make it an epic, thrilling action/adventure with a big dash of romance kind of read! Chapters currently not even planned properly, because I need to sit down and consider this seriously. It will definitely be more than 10-15 though, and they will be my usual chapter lengths so.... likely no time soon. :D 

7. Aomine Fanclub - I got a plot bunny some time ago and I shared it here and my friends were spurring me on with it, so I started trying it out a little more. I’ve written out like... maybe 30% of this one as well, but need to re-read and reconceptualize to get it back on track. The issue with this one is that I’m not really sure where I want to take it, thus it’s on the back burner at the moment.

8. KagaKuro AoMomo double-date kind of story, where Aomine is asking some curious questions of Taiga about going to America and pondering if any of his immediate friends know what Satsuki wants to do with her life. I’m really invested in this one but haven’t started properly writing it out yet beyond just sketching out the idea so I don’t forget it. (I’d say 1% complete here.) Really looking forward to using the idea of Kagami being super impressed with AoMomo perfect sync when playing as a team in arcade games!

9.Laws of Attraction Chapter 2 - You might be surprised at this, but I’m actually super invested in this one. Likely the reason why I am delaying so much working on it - I feel like all my great scene ideas are just too chaotic and I have a hard time starting the chapter flowing properly. I had like 4-5 false starts already and I’m feeling a bit skittish with picking it up. But I have such AMAZING concepts on where to take it after it revvs up the engine, so... Maybe sometime this year! Completion rate: 0% written, but at least about 30% ideas built up for the installment!

10. AoMomo college rooming together story - sort of an expansion on my fill for one of the prompts way back those years ago in AoMomo week. I really dig the concept and the trope of sharing spaces with someone you consider nothing more than a friend and then gradually learning to appreciate each other for something so much more. I am definitely doing this one some day, but not anytime soon, likely.

11. A random idea bit me the other day (read: a month ago) and I actually wrote out like... maybe 25% of it already as well. A random comment from Wakamatsu miffs Satsuki but then she realizes why he’s asking dumb questions and she comes to realize that something is wrong with the equation: either Dai-chan likes someone really close to them and she hasn’t realized, which is unlikely, or Dai-chan likes HER and is super blase about it in a way that betrays his feelings not at all, which is even more unlikely. Being a curious  individual, she sets out to find which it is! Some hilarity should ensue but mostly just some mess-with-Dai-chan fun!

12. Touou summer training camp at the sea - progress is practically 0, I wanted to write a summery piece and set my mind on this, but nothing beyond has come to me, so I’m not forcing it.

13. AoMomo cultural festival fic in second year of high school (meaning something approx end of Oct -> beginning of Nov.) with Daiki being in a distinctly Haruhu Suzumiya role at that festival (has anyone even seen this anime? I adored that episode to freaking bits, man, it’s engraved upon my soul) and singing Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” and one more song just like Haruhi did. And Satsuki just beholding the phenomenon he becomes in no time flat while he lays bare his passion for life for all the student body to see. Shippiness will happen in private afterwards!

14. You Can Leave Your Hat On Chapter 2 - Probably like 2-3 years ago while I was still in the damn woodwork and wrestling with real life and adulting being crap, I remembered this AU premise and I got super hyped on the idea of Club Owner Dai-chan being a flirt with innocent Satsuki who got dragged to his joined and fell in love at first sight with his shenanigans. I’ve already played around for like 7k words with the second chapter of this but I’m still not where I want to be at, so it will take a while longer to flesh it out.

15. Idol Worship - a story that I promised my mate aricana some 6 years ago the premise for which I am super hyped for but not quite engaging with it yet. The idea was that Momoi finally starts gettiing the dates she has been pesting Kuroko for for years, and Daiki feeling terrible about beholding that, whilst Kise is being pestered by Horikita Mai for a date and instead ditches her with Daiki because he knows his former Teikou classmate is a huge fan of her. Mai-chan isn’t particularly happy but somehow ends up enjoying her time with Daiki and starts considering actually pursuing him instead of Kise when she sees what an interesting soul he is, with the torch that he’s carrying for some girl in his life he doesn’t really talk about but is evident from the little things he drops off as hits. AoMomo shenanigans will start to ensue properly when Satsuki realizes that Daiki is actually having a close female friend who is not her but is Horikita Mai instead, Dai-chan’s perfect woman, practically. She doesn’t take well to the news and has to grapple with why that is! And what to do with these newfound frustrating emotions!

16. Obstruction of Justice Chapter 3 - MAYBE SOME DAY, I WILL GET TO WRITING THIS. Last summer I inteded to do just that but instead, Wild Side of Justice was born. And it became a spin off of sorts on its own. ORZ. I WILL FINISH THIS SOME DAY, I do have some plans for it and I do have the desire to pursue them. I just need to be in the right headspace for it ahsjkfhkjaf

17. A PWP story of Kagami arriving early for a practice match at Touou and somehow walking in on AoMomo getting busy with each other in very unexpected and explicit ways that Kagami did not see headed his way. Because, we need more PWP in this fandom, honestly.

18. And since we DO need more PWP, recently when checking the 30 lemons community on LJ (shut up, I’m not ancient, YOU’RE ANCIENT) I was wondering how exactly a smut plot around the “Taken by the Faceless Stranger” could work for Aomomo and I came up with this Masquerade ball that they end up both attending because of their friends and meeting each other and hitting off fantastically just chatting the night and then banging in a niche in the long castle-like premise of the ball. :’DDDD Cuz it’s me and if I don’t have something like that in the works, you know i’m likely sick.

ALL OF THESE I am planning on eventually finishing one day. ONE DAY!

For now they are in various states of completion and in various stages of being cared for and improved on with more ideas added and fleshed out.

I am not joking when I say I am very invested in this fandom. I just have difficulty getting to writing out these ideas when I spend like 60% of my free time playing my mobile games. :D 

So there you have it. I didn’t want to say anything about these because 1) I don’t want to get your hopes up. You Can Leave Your Hat On 2, for one, has been in the making for 3 years, very on-again-off-again kind of way, and I just... can’t do that to you guys. I have decided against posting any incomplete fics so I don’t torture you guys and my muse doesn’t abandom me forever for them. So when something is complete, it gets posted promptly for your viewing pleasure!

And 2) If I divulge too much of the story, I feel like my hype of it may disappear completely. Ehh, my muse is a willful creature, what can I tell you... 

So let’s hope at least SOME of these get to see the light of day soon!

[inventors-fair]

Missed Opportunities Commentary

Thank you all, once more, for a fantastic week. I wish my schedule allowed me to do this more often, since it really is so much fun. Now, then, let’s get into it! All 14 remaining submissions are under the cut, card and commentary included.

We’re going to be going in reverse alphabetical order this time, so let’s start it off with @shadowtag‘s submission, Traumatic Reunion

This is an absolutely beautiful callback to Cathartic Reunion in both function and flavor, but this is not a black effect. The only color allowed to return any card type from their graveyard to their hand is green, and spells that return multiple cards at once all exile themselves (or otherwise remove themselves from your graveyard like Seasons Past.) Very good job on the flavor, but unfortunately the mechanics don't quite pull through.

@misterstingyjack​ Tocasia’s Ingenuity

A deep pull to be sure, but not an unwelcome one. Although, given that Primal Plasma is blue, and blue is the central overlapping color between Urza and Mishra, I don't see why this wasn't a blue card. The fact that it makes a token with all the abilities of the card is strange to me too, as with Soul Separator from Shadows Over Innistrad there is precedent of making token copies of things in graveyard with different characteristics. That aside, an artifact focus was 100% the right direction to take here, even with the Elementalist spin, and the card is well balanced, all things considered. Unrelated to the judging, you mentioned Darksteel Colossus in the notes, but unfortunately that wouldn't work. Darksteel Colossus shuffles itself into your library if it would be put into a graveyard, so it's impossible to interact with it in the graveyard (Blightsteel Colossus does this as well.)

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes​ The First Battle

I always love to see the Demon Leviathan given the attention it deserves. The lore on this is absolutely wonderful, but it's also way too much text to put on a Saga. If it did fit, I'd suggest swapping the first two chapters so that you can better set up the killing blow, but as it is I think it should just be an instant or sorcery that makes the planeswalkers fight and adds the counters immediately.

@ozthearistocrat​ Mistmeadow Jack

I also had to look this one up, and flavorfully I'm liking what I'm seeing! Unfortunately, this is not a white card. Stealing things, even temporarily, is not a white effect. If this card were blue to cast with a white activation (or keeping the hybrid activation) it would have been perfect.

@snugz​ Khanfall

Choices were a big part of Fate Reforged, and Khans block in general, so it makes sense that a splashy mythic set in that time would have a choice attached as well. However, given that the card is named Khanfall, and there's only one way that can go down, it seems strange to me that there's a choice at all. The mechanical aspects of this card are wonderful, but I think it should have done only one of these things rather than try for both.

@starch255 Hyperi, Titan of Sky’s Tyranny

I'm definitely a fan of the concept, and I'm glad you caught on and made the Helixing optional, but my feelings on Hyperi are mixed. The two Titans we have fit into a playstyle of "Good spells on turn 2/3, good value engines later in the game," but Hyperi doesn't. It's an absolutely backbreaking card late game, especially since grave hate powers up future versions, but on curve it most likely does nothing at all. You would have been better served making it either flat damage + lifegain or tied to a number other than cards in exile.

@gollumni​ Hurrik, Savior of Gods

There's a lot to say here, so let me start by assuring you that I really wish this card worked. If you activate this and target any creature that then dies to damage or 0 toughness, it creates an infinite loop of replacement effects that ends the game in a draw, because it doesn't remove marked damage or debuffs, so the creature will die again to state based actions so the replacement effect, which lasts until the end of the turn, will grab it ad infinitum. If it said "the next time" and removed damage, or it exiled and brought it back under your control, then it would work perfectly. It also saves your own creatures without the downside, which I don't think was intentional based on the wording.

@hypexion​ Hack the Guildpact

Maybe I have a skewed experience with this sort of thing, but this looks very easy to win with. If you have even three unique color pairs and a proliferate card, you'll win in three turns. But worse than that, the card doesn't do anything aside from winning the game. If it gets to 9 counters and then gets blown up, it didn't do anything. Cards which say "win the game" on them usually have either some sort of protection, like Helix Pinnacle and Darksteel Reactor, or some other effect to help win or survive, like Approach of the Second Sun and Simic Ascendancy. Maybe it could have a ramping scry/surveil based on the number of counters, and then win at 10.

@teaxch​ Gvar, Krumar Commander

It's simple and clean, although it doesn't quite carry the same flavor as what the Krumar really are. The mechanics of this card imply that they defeat the children and then take them, and although the flavor text describes it properly, it's still at odds with the functionality. A better way to do this might be to follow the example of Offspring's Revenge, and have Gvar make 1/1 token copies of opponent's creatures that die, with appropriate stat balancing.

@bread-into-toast​ Glimpse of Perfection

I get what you were going for, and I like it, but it's messy. It's a counterspell and a stealy card, but the fact that it namedrops the Shadowspear specifically means it's very niche, and the fact that you're paying more than usual for the counterspell, and then 4 life (or UU) for a 1 mana artifact that you don't always keep forever makes the card underwhelming even when it does work. I think a better way to accomplish this flavor would have been to make both the counterspell and search effect on etb, and make the steal effect search for any artifact with mana value 1 or less.

@morbidlyqueerious​ Glimpse Beyond

Mechanically, this card is perfect. Blue and green are the perfect combination of colors for this effect, weaving together cards like Commune With the Gods and Investigate the Mystery seamlessly. My only gripe is that, looking at this without the flavor text, I would not know what it's representing. It's a great effect, and I do love me some Rashmi, it's just a little too nonspecific.

@shakeszx Dack’s Fate

Very on the nose. Normally, most things about this card would be working against it, but in the specific context of War of the Spark, it fits very well. Legendary sorceries would have been great in a set with 36 planeswalkers, as well as planeswalker specific removal. I'm not sure why this is white, though. Nicol Bolas has never been associated with white, least of all the Eternals, and everything this card does can be done in mono black.

@wolkemesser​ Clockworking

Mechanically, this card is fine. I think it should have been a delayed trigger to choose one ("when you win" instead of if), and the "use" should be changed to "activate" but the card works as written. Apart from that, the effects are of wildly different power levels (compare Raise Dead to Disallow). Flavorfully, I'm very confused why you re-used a Lorwyn mechanic for the Scars of Mirrodin story, let alone one as divisive as Clash.

@col-seaker-of-the-memiest-legion​ ______, Planeswalker

This is a wonderful example of a card that is only silver bordered due to flavor. It functions exactly as intended in black border, without any changes to the rules or mechanics of the game, but is still a card that would never be printed outside of an Unset. That being said, the card itself does need a bit of a templating update. It needs to specify that you can look at cards exiled with it, otherwise you won't be able to play any of them, and I assume you meant for the last ability to be less than or equal to the number of land counters on the Planeswalker. Mechanically, there's a few changes that would need to be made to get it to the right spot in terms of balance. The cost, for one, is a mess. Twobrid mana isn't used anymore for good reason, and while I understand the intent behind its use here, it drags the design down. The fact that all of the abilities subtract loyalty means that even though it starts with 20 counters, you're likely not going to be able to play anything off of it. It playing the land in the second ability is more restrictive than you might assume, since the opportunity cost there is both drawing a card into the planeswalker and your own land drop for the turn.

~

And that will do it for us today! It was a genuine pleasure to host this for you all, and I look forward to the next time our paths cross in such a manner.

-Mod @illharg-the-rave-boar​

[batarella]

The Commander - Part 9 (Arkham Knight x Reader)

I just want to thank you all for the kind comments and messages. I was afraid of disappointing you with the next chapters. So please let me know what you all think! It lets me know if I’m on the right track!

WORDS: 3272 WARNINGS: UHMMMM YOU FIGHT WITH JASON AND THEN THERE’S A WHOLE MIX OF ANGSTY FLUFF AND FLUFFY ANGST 

Masterlist

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

“So what do they call you? Peashooter?”

This kid was a fucking menace. And the red and yellow on his suit just made him even more irritating to look at. The bullets just bounced off of him. Either that, or she’ll have to face her uncle for missing so many shots at once. She gripped onto the two pistols with her life.

Aim for the head.

She saw his cape rolling into a pile of boxes and fired.

“Silver Sniper! The Mini Gunner! Come on, I can think of loads of names right now!”

The boxes had become an exploded mess by then. Robin wasn’t there. She backed off, panting. Y/N had to get out of this. She focused on the sounds, or any movement from the ground’s vibrations, but there was nothing. Which meant-

“Fuck!” Robin jumped from the ledge above and tackled her to the ground. Y/N kneed his groin, then landed a punch on his face. She pushed him off of her and ducked just as he pounced for her head.

He blocked her kicks with his arms, then grabbed her right fist, then her left, just as she threw them, but she high kicked his hold and pushed him back. She kept throwing her punches, and he easily blocked them without blinking.

Y/N growled, but Robin just smirked at her. He threw a punch at her stomach, but didn’t see her foot aiming just at his chest.

He threw back, and it was enough time for her to pick up her pistols and aim at his head.

But just as she pulled the trigger, two batarangs landed right at the muzzels. The firearms exploded in her hands and her body was thrown to the floor. Robin laughed. “You were looking an awful lot like Lara Croft there, kid.”

“You think this is intimidating me, bird boy?”

“Without your precious guns, maybe it is.”

Xxxx

Jason ran right up to her, withstanding all the bullets she could fire with his armor thick enough to go against missiles, and pushed her to the ground, picking up her guns and throwing them over the roof. The Commander kicked him in the stomach and rolled off.

“No guns.”

His voice filter just sounded annoying at this point. Y/N picked herself up and ran to him, throwing a punch aiming for his neck. He saw her alternating strikes and dodged every one of them, blocking her knee with his own wrist. She landed a kick, but he grabbed her ankle and flung her off to the ledge, her back hitting the cement.

“Stop throwing me around, asshole!” she coughed.

This man was one she wanted dead at some point and was so tempted to help kill him, she was almost at the front gates of Arkham just to do so. At the last minute, she decided against it.

She might be a killer, but she was no monster.

Then she ended up sleeping with that same man, several times, even going so far as sharing a kiss at a time and place that a kiss meant the most.

And here he was again, Jason, finishing a war that started years ago.

Jason skidded to her front, his shoes making her lose balance. They rolled around the floor, with either on top and throwing their fists only to meet the ground. Y/N was first to roll off and regain her stance, but Jason managed to duck before she hit his head.

She had to tire him out. His hits were strong. Too strong in fact. More of those and his arms would eventually weaken. It was her turn to block his fists, her torso turning around while also keeping an eye on his lower body.

Her punches were swift, fast, and almost as light as air. They weren’t enough on their own, but if she gained her momentum it would be enough to throw her opponent off. She knew Jason had that in mind, especially since he was the exact opposite. He was slower, but each hit was strong enough to land her on the ground.

It had always been hard to best him. In fact, she never could say she’d beaten him in a fight. But this will be the first.

As a fight long awaited, it was too bad no one else saw them. They were dancing. A violent, bone-crushing dance.

And it was epic.

Her legs were flying in the air as Y/N twisted his arm and placed her whole weight right on his shoulder. She pulled at his wrist, gaining a cry from him.

“Get off me!”

“You asked for this, you son of a-“

And a massive blow of his strength pushed her off. She was panting, and she let her guard down for a split second and he had her against the wall, grabbing her by the collar.

“This making you hard, Knight?” she whispered.

Jason should’ve seen her knee between his legs. He let go of her, and she tackled him to the ground. She tried hitting his visor, but her already bruised fist gave out and Jason flipped them over.

He held her down with his muscled arm hard against her neck. Y/N struggled and she could only look up to his visor. The glass had broken and his grunts were no longer filtered. She could see his face, teeth gritting, and his eyes looking straight back at her. She used the last of her strength to push him off.

It had to be hours. The Commander was panting, and all her limbs felt like falling to the ground. “Stop!” Jason said, struggling to pull himself up the floor. He had to catch his breath as well, opening his visor to let the cold air in. She leaned her arm against the cement.

The sky had lightened. And the stars had disappeared. She was breathing so hard the air just seemed too thin. Jason laid flat on the ground, staring blankly above. Y/N pressed her back against the ledge and her body melted to the ground.

The worthiest opponent. And still, no one bested the other. She waited until the air wasn’t such a blur and the floor no longer spinning, and he on the ground. They sat there for as long as they’d fought until the sun had fully risen.

He hadn’t said a word, but she could see his chest rising and falling, eventually into a steadier pace. When she thought she could, she stood up, slowly walking up to Jason.

She caught his eye, and extended her hand. He looked at her up and down, but for once, he actually took it. She pulled him up.

“This conversation never happened.”

Jason pulled his hand away. “Just the conversation or everything that happened after it?”

“Need I remind you the militia leaves for Gotham in three days. This was stupid. We don’t have time for this.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

She brushed off her suit, lasting a glare at him before turning for the hatch on the floor. She pulled it open.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said.

She didn’t even look back at him. “Fuck off.”

Xxxxx

Her head was burning. She needed ice, right at the center of her cheek. She tried not to look at Jason or else she’d attack him from across the table again. He had a new visor on, as if he kept spare ones in his drawers. If she had broken bones somewhere they’ll have to be ignored.

“I told Stagg the Cloudburst arrives in Gotham today. He’s responsible for hiding it in his bunkers until I give the signal.”

Deathstroke filled in. “How do we filter out the effects from our men?”

“Their masks give them immunity,” said the Knight.

“And does everyone have this mask? I told you we had new recruits.”

“Everyone is accounted for,” Crane said. “Our men will be fine.”

“Have you even tested the toxin recently?”

Scarecrow stood from his chair. “The Cloudburst will do much more than just release the toxin. I’ve asked Stagg to amplify its poison gas into the density of rainclouds. The city will be a barren wasteland. And if the Dark Knight fails, all of Gotham will fall.”

Jason seemed satisfied. “I’ll make sure to alert our men before I release the toxin.”

“I thought the Commander drives the Cloudburst,” said Slade.

“If it has anything to do with facing Batman head on, I’ll do it. The Commander’s tasked mainly at HQ.”

“Actually,” Crane said. “Commander Y/N has the expertise to control the tank, don’t you Commander?”

The Commander sat back against the chair. “I do.”

“She’s the best man for the job, Knight.”

“I said, I’ll do it. We had a deal. I get to kill Batman!”

Scarecrow wasn’t bothered. “And is it with the Cloudburst that you end his life with? The Cloudburst isn’t used as our primary weapon, Knight. It is used for the toxin.”

“It’s the best weapon we’ve got.”

“Then perhaps that means our drones are far from enough.”

Slade stammered, “Those drones are mine and they work perfectly.”

“I don’t care if I have a knife or a tank,” Jason said. “He looks into my eyes while he dies.”

“Your delay in Gotham tells me your history with the Dark Knight will work to your disadvantage.”

Fuck.

“We had to hack into GCPD,” The Commander finally said. She’d join in on the argument, but her jaw hurt too much. Then she took out the hacking device from her jacket and slid it across the table to Slade.

“The Commander has her own work. I will not just sit in a chair and watch everything happen from a camera.”

“We all know you won’t be doing that, kid,” Deathstroke interrupted. “I say we send the Commander.”

“Her best position is to watch and control all comms and drones at HQ. She will lead the whole army. I gave her that job weeks ago, Wilson.”

“Enough,” the Commander said. “I’ll take the Cloudburst. The Knight can take a serpent drone and attack the Alpha Target once the tank destroys his car. He kills him right then.”

Slade slams his palms against the table. “How bout that?”

“A serpent drone?”

“I fire at his car, you make sure your visor filters out the gas and you take him out from above.”

Jason seemed skeptical, but Deathstroke had already stood up from his chair. “Have at it, Commander.”

Jason wasn’t having it. He went after Slade after he’d left the room. The commander winced at the pain in her lower body, struggling to even stand up. She started for the door, and Crane blocked her out.

“Commander,” he whispered. Y/N pretended not to look at him.

“What?”

“I know what went on with you and the Knight.”

The Commander kept looking at the ground. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I have eyes in Gotham. You cannot talk your way out of this.”

“Whatever it is you think, that isn’t the case. Nothing happened between us.”

Crane neared his face dangerously close to Y/N. And suddenly, she had a whiff of his toxin. It was in his breath. In a daze, she looked straight into his eyes and saw demons crawl out of them. Her breath was shortened and she stiffed.

“I don’t care about either of you,” he said. “But if this affects the deployment of my toxin in any way, I’ll make sure he suffers your own consequences.”

“Get out of my face, Crane.”

“I know your fear. I know everybody’s fear. The Knight is deadly, but the man’s as fragile as broken glass. And as stubborn as a mangy dog. You would know that.”

He was making her see it. And hear things she wasn’t supposed to hear. There were screams. Not hers, but of Jason’s. And she could see his face crying out in agony. But she couldn’t look away from the blackness that was Crane’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Yes, in fact, you do,” Crane breathed and backed away.

There were still remnants of the toxin when he headed out the door.

“You have two days, Commander. Make it count.”

Xxxx

It was death.

That was what stared at her in the face.

It wasn’t just Jason, or Crane. It was death.

It was cold, and the streets were barren and full of shit. They were far away from the city, but the countryside had a small town just a mile away. She didn’t have to take her bike. Y/N walked even when the sidewalks were small enough for her to be run over at just a slight turn of a wheel.

But she didn’t care, not even when she felt it rain so slightly, the droplets disappeared as it made contact with her clothes. Y/N pulled up her hood and continued down the road.

There weren’t much people, even at this hour. She wasn’t even afraid anyone would pull her to the alleys and leave her defenseless. Her focus was on the ground, moving downward until she met the curb.

The light glowed red, even with no cars passing by. She stood there, waiting. And in front of her was a small diner.

It was the classic retro feel. There was a jukebox at the corner, red seats backed up against the window while a waitress in blue took the orders of the two people inside. A mother and her son. He seemed happy with the single slice of pie on his plate.

She looked away before she’s thought about it even more.

But even then, it was too late. It hurt before it even dawned to her.

In another world, where she wasn’t taken in by her uncle, she’d have gone into a diner just like the one in front of her, ordered a burger and a chocolate milkshake knowing the rain would fall in and it would take her too long to get home for dinner. Then she’ll take a seat at the counter.

In that world, she’d have met a boy looking at her from a few seats away, smiling. And she’d smile back when her order appears and they realized they got the exact same mix of the smoothie they wanted. The boy would take the seat beside her, ask for her name. And he’d tell her his. That boy would have the brightest blue eyes and she could already tell he had the habit of scratching his nose.

And they’ll talk all night even after everyone else in the diner had left, when the cook had to drive them out. He would offer to take her home, and she’d decline at first, but eventually give in. She wanted to give in. And by the end of the day, he’d have her number and they’ll see each other that weekend again. In that same diner.

In that world, she wasn’t a world-renowned assassin, and Jason wasn’t a vigilante with a broken past.

But-

But-

Fuck. She was so in love with him, it was terrifying.

But they had no business being kids, being cute, being so harmlessly in love and go on walks and even dates.

They had no business lying on the floor, eating burgers at three in the afternoon.

They had no business being so uncomplicated, when everything comes so easily and nothing would be at stake.

They had no business having a relationship. No matter how much she’d have wanted that. Not after their history. Not after what they’ve both been through. Not after what Floyd had raised her into and partially stripped her of anything normal.

Jason. Tortured. Being mauled on the floor while a madman beats him like a lifeless sack of hay.

Then someone stood beside her. She didn’t have to look at him.

“Stop following me.”

Jason didn’t answer. He looked on at the diner and he had the same look on his eyes as she had.

“You look at the diner, too.”

“Go. Away.”

He didn’t leave. Instead, they stood at the side of the street, not moving even when the light in front of them turned green.

She didn’t say anything more. Didn’t even look at him.

“I wish… I did something,” she swallowed. “I wish I wanted to save you.”

“Stop. I didn’t mean what I said. Forget about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I said stop.”

The woman in the diner held up a spoonful of pie and her son opened his mouth wide. It looked delicious even from the distance. The traffic light turned red and just one car drove off in front of them.

“Jason-“

“I saw the look on your face. Back at the cave. I knew you’d have figured everything out by then, about what happened to me at Arkham.”

She was stone cold and stiff.

“But none of that mattered. I didn’t care if you wanted me dead at one point. The whole day I was with you in Gotham, it was the first day I hadn’t thought about Joker… or Batman. Anything.

“I walked out of the cave hoping you wouldn’t run away after knowing who I was. So I kissed you. And you kissed me back. Then I let you hold me and I told you my name. Then… Jesus…”

Y/N still hadn’t turned away. She wasn’t crying. She couldn’t. It was the droplets from the rain that ran down her cheeks. Nothing else.

And by that time the traffic light had turned back to being green, the diner was dark and empty. She didn’t want to look to her side. Somehow, she knew Jason would just walk away, without so much as another word. He’d do something like that, and it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.

But he stayed.

For a long while, he did. So she asked, without much to expect.

“Can you walk me home?”

Just that. She could at least have that. Something so miniscule from the world she longed to be.

“Okay.”

He stayed right beside her. All the way back to the barracks. And the dark rain prevailed.

And it was the same when they reached the empty training grounds, deep into the back where the living quarters were. The walk to their rooms was silent, and their clothes drenched the floors all the way up to hers. Jason walked straight into his, without so much as another word.

She went into her room and locked the door, but her hand didn’t leave the doorknob. She stood there, silent and alone. Y/N never felt so lost.

But it had to have been long minutes, because she heard four knocks on her door before she’s even walked away. She opened it and Jason was standing there, his hair a wet mess, and he held up a coffee mug.

“Hot water,” he said. “Drink it before bed.”

Y/N didn’t have much energy left to decline. She took it from him. “Thank you.”

Jason stepped back, and she closed the door again.

Her whole body leaned against the hard wood of the door and she could feel a part of herself drip to the floor at each second she’d have to look into his hurt eyes. She’d fallen in so deep, and she hated herself for it.

She opened the door, determined to go after him.

But he was still there, at the door, just about to go into her room himself.

Y/N’s never felt so at the edge of breaking down when she met his eyes, panting. And with the pain, came the rush of cold air, the rush of cold relief. Jason went into her room, pushed her against the door to close it. He could feel her breath, wanting him.

He held the back of her drenched head and pulled her to his lips. She dug in to his hair, gripping it hard when his lips escaped hers and found their way back to her neck. Her other hand traveled down his clothed arms. She gasped, and Jason slowly guided them both to move to the bed. He’ll never pull away. Soon there were no more boundaries between them, no distance. They lasted all night, no longer with any trace of regret.

-----

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

SMUT FANS. YA’LL KNOW IT’S ABOUT TO GET DOWN IN THE NEXT CHAPTER

  Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo

[jadekitty777]

On Your Six, Chapter 8

You’re going to be offended when I tell you I’m still not done. How did this happen? How did this end chapter get so long that I have to break it in half and I still have not finished it? 

Oh right, I wrote myself into a corner and had to get myself out of it in the most outlandish way possible. Yeah that checks out.

For now please enjoy chapter 8 of what is now a 9-chapter story. Because I have no self control.

Day 8: Free Day for @taiqrowweek

Rating:  T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 6.5k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: Hang...

~

Qrow was thirty-two when it finally happened.

He was working out of Mantle on the cusp of winter. The bustling, compact metropolis had become a bit of a mainstay for him over the years, thanks to his connections with the Omega Alliance. The political party had formed half a decade ago, heralded by none other than Robyn Hill. The movement was quickly becoming a worldwide spectacle, with more factions forming in every major city of the four kingdoms almost every week. With the main branch strategically close to Atlas though, it had become a media-struggle to both stay in the spotlight and to silence the oppressed.

It was just the kind of thing that might turn the tides for omega rights once and for all.

However, for Qrow, the Alliance had become a bit of a safe haven. The group had welcomed him in with open arms and encouraged him to continue his work, with the stipulation the Alliance would be endorsing the rebranding efforts in their press conferences and rallies. In turn, he was given a ‘secret nesting spot’ no matter where he seemed to travel to and a donation fund that kept him so well off, Tai stopped trying to measure his waistline with his eyes whenever he came to visit. All the while, his anonymity was kept intact and his clientele full.

It seemed like an eternity since he’d been able to live so comfortably.

Which led him to where he was that fateful day. The Greenleaf Inn was a well-sized, three-star hotel that always conveniently had its mini-suite open whenever he was around. The bed alone was worth its weight in lien, but the mini-bar fridge and spa tub made him feel like he was a king. The extra space also allowed for more pleasant accommodations for his clients.

That day, he was working with a young journalist by the name of Forest. He was a chatterer and a bit of a political enthusiast, his support for the Alliance borderline fanatic. Most of their time was spent discussing current events.

“Vacuo’s press conference is all in an uproar. Pride leader Kali can’t even get a word in edgewise; no one’s listening to her. It’s all looking pretty bad – then her Alpha gets to his feet. He’s like a monster of a man – wider than a truck and tall as a house. Everyone shuts up when he clears his throat and says his mate has something to say. Then he just sits down and lets her talk. Sienna reported that Kali turned into a real lioness and took charge!” Forest mimicked the swiping of claws. “It was spectacular! But of course, the headlines are all about what Ghira did and Kali’s performance is just a side note. It’s always about the alphas – uh, no offense.”

Well maybe discussing was too strong a term. “None taken.” Qrow replied offhandedly from the floor, more concerned with getting the arch of the fox’s face just right where it curled over the shin bone. He wasn’t even sure Forest heard him anyways.

“Suppose the end result is what matters though. Vacuo was the last agenda we needed to be on. Now we’re ensured the UFK really starts discussing omega affairs this winter. And I think-”

He never did find out what Forest thought – because a rapping on the door cut him off. Qrow turned off his pen, wary as he got to his feet. It wasn’t typical he got visitors out of the blue.

Then a voice shouted from the other side. “Harbinger, hurry up!”

“May?” Forest sat upright.

Qrow was already across the room in two strides, throwing open the door. The blue-haired omega was in a state, her scent bleeding panic as she cut right to the chase, “You need to get out of here! The police are in the lobby, looking for you!”

“What?!” He barked, heart rate skyrocketing. “But how?”

May pushed him back, hurrying inside. “Don’t know. Joanna’s trying to stall, but we only got a few minutes at most before this place is crawling. What do you need? Forest, you too, get up!”

The reporter seemed to snap out of his daze, jumping to his feet. “Why don’t we just hide in another room?”

“That might work for you, but not him. They’re gonna raze this place from the ground up.”

“Then hide him. I’m going down the stairwell.” Qrow insisted, having already thrown his kit back together and snapping the case closed. He got to his feet, pulling his scroll from his pocket. “Here. Destroy it.”

She looked from the device to him, uncertain. “But I can help-”

“No.” He barely withheld the growl. “You’re a lead member of Atlas’ branch. They see you helping me and the kingdom’s gonna run with the bad press. You don’t need that, especially not with the UFK assembly so close.”

For one long terrible moment, he was certain she was going to keep arguing. But any bluster was blown out with a heavy sigh and a helpless, “Good luck.”

He was going to need it.

~

“Shit.” Qrow cursed as he caught a gander of the lobby floor from the little window in the stairwell door. The place was crawling. He could already see a pair of officers at the elevator doors. There was almost definitely one at every exit point as well.

He backed up, trying to think. There was no way he was getting out undetected and the moment they started questioning him or asking for identification, he was going to be in trouble. He thought about reconsidering Forest’s idea – but even if they played a game of Scooby Doo chase with the cops, it wasn’t going to be long before they caught sight of him. He couldn’t just go up to his room and wait for the inevitable either.

He was trapped. His only hope was if he spontaneously learned how to fly.

Unless… He tilted his head up, looking at the flights of stairs. Which went all the way up to the roof.

The buildings weren’t that far apart.

It was crazy. But, it might be his only chance.

Qrow shoved his tattoo kit underneath the last stairwell, pushing it in the corner until the black case was hidden in the shadows. It would be too heavy to take with him. He’d just have to hope no one would be able to find it in the meantime. Appeased, he rushed up the stairs, trying to take several at a time. He was about halfway up the third when he heard the first-floor door open. He froze.

“You really think he’ll come down this way?” A voice, high and reedy, floated up from below.

The other voice was gruff and masculine. “You heard the chief, Viola. She wants all exits covered.”

“Just seems excessive Taylor. All of us for a guy not even hurting anyone.”

“Rookie, I’ll give you some advice: the judgment calls are for the courts. We just need to do our jobs. And yours right now is to get to that top floor in case our perp makes a break for the roof, capeesh?”

She sighed. “Got it.”

The first footfall hit the steps.

Qrow thought about it for half a second – and then he bolted.

Surprise was on his side, because it took the officers a precious few seconds to understand before their shouts rang up and they started chasing after him. He could hear Taylor fumbling with a radio, calling for backup. By that point, Qrow was bypassing the second floor and heading toward the third.

“Stop! Police!” Viola’s voice cracked on the yell.

He felt kind of bad, scaring the newbie. Had he had any breath left, he might have shouted back an apology. As it were, all his focus went onto the stairs in front of him, trying his best not to fall as he climbed five… six… seven… eight-

Bam!

The roof access door swung open and hit the brick. He paused long enough to scope his options –apartment complex to the left, half a story lower, flat rooftop; warehouse to the right, higher, guardrail fencing on the perimeter – before he made a decision and skirted left. The ground underneath him was slippery from rainfall that had frosted over with late autumn’s crisper temperatures, so he struggled for traction, preparing to jump.

“Don’t do it!” Viola yelled just as he did it.

For a moment, as he leapt over ten feet through the air, nothing below but a sharp drop to the alleyway, he felt weightless and free.  He really was flying.

And then realty was rushing up to meet him as his feet hit the opposite roof, slipped on the ice, and slipped again when his hands weren’t enough to catch him. The impact, mostly taken on his right side, was jarring and left him a little breathless and aching. Still, he was able to stand a few moments after, turning back to look at the officers staring down at him across the gap.

“Ha! Better luck next time turkeys!” Qrow saluted them before he strut towards the roof hatch. Now all he had to do was-

Wait.

Why was everything spinning?

The distant sound of cars was fading, and as he lifted his hand to his face, he watched it double before his eyes.

Shit. He was gonna-

The ground rushed up to meet him a second time, having just enough consciousness left to land on his back.

He watched the sky above him until the last star blinked out.

~

She’d been staring at him for the past five minutes.

He could just barely see her above the pages of the newspaper he was pretending to read. He figured she would eventually go and pester her dad, just one room over and making quite a racket in the kitchen as Tai no doubt overdid it in trying to be the perfect host (and would only try harder if Qrow told him it was no big deal). But the longer he tried to wait her out, the more it became obvious his niece had a mission and he was part of it.

Eventually he folded – both the newspaper and his resolve – and turned to her, trying not to be appear as intimated by a mere child as he actually kind of was, “Something wrong?”

Yang lifted her chin up high, stomped her way over from the staircase to his little corner of the couch, and slammed a box of markers down on the coffee table. “Make me pretty.”

“Huh?”

“Like daddy.” She said with great exasperation. She climbed up beside him and with the lack of shame only children could have pulled off the shirt of her PJs and turned so her back could face him. “I want to be pretty too.”

Understanding slowly dawned on him. “Shouldn’t we ask your dad first?”

“I did, he said it was fine.” She hadn’t but Tai thought it was too adorable to be mad about it.

“Alright then.” Qrow turned, pulling a blue marker from the box. But when he turned back to face her, the pen was now black and Yang was two years older. “What do you want this time firecracker?”

“A motorcycle!” She shouted, bouncing excitedly.

He laughed, draping her long hair over her shoulder. “A motorcycle? Now what would a girl like you want that for?”

“I’ma get one when I’m older. Daddy said! I can get a real motorcycle when I turn eighteen.” She told him.

He uncapped the marker. “And that’s what you want, huh?”

“Yep.” She nodded. “He said I could get a real tattoo too, as long as I think really hard about it since this one won’t come off in the bath.”

Qrow started to outline the wheels. “That’s right. You want to make sure it’s something you want forever.”

“Once I decide, you’ll do it for me, right?”

The words halted him momentarily, overcome by the sudden fondness filling his heart. “’Course I will.”  

“You swear?” Yang turned her head, trying to look serious but only managing to look adorably pouty. “Even if they pop out your eyes?”

The snort of surprise burst out of him. “It’s scratch out your eyes – and yes, even then.” And just so she could know that he meant it, he crossed an X over his heart.

“Good.”

He pressed the marker back to her skin, moving onto the bike’s frame, when Tai called out to him, “Qrow, look!”

He rose his head, looking out across the yard to see the omega holding a square, plywood board between his hands. As he gave the nod, Yang didn’t hesitate to bust her fist right through it.

“Looking good!” Qrow called back, before turning back to Ruby. Draped over his lap so she could reach her toys, she was making little action noises with her mouth as she crushed Bastinda underneath Zwei’s massive paws. He was just adding the color to the fur of the corgi version on her back.

A sharp movement had Bastinda flying down the porch steps and a stripe of white going all over her back. Luckily, six-year-olds weren’t picky.

“Bye, bye mean witch.” Ruby waved before she started taking her wolf on a walk along his side. “Uncle Qrow, who’s your favorite?”

He wrinkled his nose, trying not to think of the shoddy reboot that was slowly destroying the integrity of the original. Still, he answered honestly, “Rosette.”

“Why?”

“’Cause she was the big hero.” He explained. “I wanted to be just like her growing up.”

Her eyes lit up. “And now you are her, right?”

He quirked a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Daddy told me that’s why you’re gone so long, ‘cause you’re out making the world a better place.” Another stripe went down her back. She blinked curiously. “Why’d your face go all red?”

“Ah, nevermind that! Hey, you know what this needs?” He looked away, grabbing at the pink marker.

It was the same color his cheeks had been by the time he was turning back around, no longer outside but sitting up in Ruby’s room, consoling the sniffling ten-year-old the only way he knew how.

As he added to the growing chain of roses growing along her shoulder blades, he said, “Don’t let them get to you kid.”

“But it’s not fair! I’m way faster at running bases than Cardin, but they made me sit on the bench the whole time! I didn’t even get to play.” She swiped angrily at her eyes.

If Qrow listened real hard, he could hear Tai’s voice rising from downstairs. The phone call didn’t seem to be going well. “You’re right, it’s not fair at all. Do you know why your teacher did that?”

“Because,” Ruby buried her face in her pillow, the rest coming out muffled, “I’m going to be an omega and omegas don’t do great things.”

He was glad she couldn’t see his scowl. “Who told you that?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“I don’t.” He capped the marker, setting it aside before shifting on his knees, brushing back her hair with his fingers. “Because I’ve met omegas from all over the world, and so many of them are doing great things every single day. Dangerous things even, all so that they can make things more fair for everyone. They’re some of the bravest people I know.”

She rose her head. “Really?”

“Really. But you know what the big secret is?” He lent back, tapping his scent gland. “It doesn’t matter what’s here.” He tapped his head. “It matters what’s in here. As long as you put your mind to it and work hard at it, then there’s nothing you can’t do.”

Ruby considered this, asking, “You’re not just saying that?”

“Hey now, take it from the alpha who can draw. I know my stuff kiddo.”

It earned him one of the few things she seemed to share with her dad – a bright, beautiful smile. But as she went to a respond, a knocking on the door drew his attention.

Qrow blinked blearily at the cell doors where the guard was banging his nightstick against the metal. “Branwen, up! You got a visitor.”

Gingerly, he pulled himself up, his healing ribs screaming in protest at the movement. It took several moments longer before he could actually stand and shuffle his way out the door, following the guard down the hall. He kept his head down, not wanting to meet eyes with any of the other prisoners.

Since he was injured, he was being kept in the protective custody side of the prison. It had its bonuses – he didn’t have to share a cell or run through the motions the general population side did. He also didn’t have to cuff up when they let him out of his cell, mostly because they couldn’t get them on around the sling. The downside was the PC side of the jail was also where the most violent criminals were kept. There was one inmate in particular who-

“Oh little bird, you’ve come fluttering my way yet again.” Tyrian jeered.

-particularly got on his nerves. Qrow didn’t look up, but that didn’t stop the fierce growl from leaving his throat. The serial killer only cackled at his display.

If this was what it was like in here, he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d survive once he was reassigned into GP. A whole room full of alphas, all of them constantly competing for dominance, was a disaster waiting to happen. Not for the first time since he’d arrived, did he start wishing he’d presented differently. He’d have better chances in an omega-beta prison.

So preoccupied he was by his anxious thoughts, he’d forgotten entirely why he was out of bed in the first place until he was walking into the visitor’s area. The section was marked by a row of doors, each one leading into a small room that had nothing more than a few chairs and a wooden counter separated in half by bulletproof plexiglass. There was a metal, slated ring in it to allow the two parties to talk.

The guard unlocked the rightmost room, saying, “You’ve got one hour,” before swinging open the door.

Seeing a familiar face, even if it was only Clover Ebi’s, filled him with so much joy he could have cried.

The soldier was all smiles for him, though the cursory look over he gave him left a twist of worry at the corner of his eyes. “Hey Qrow. I’m so relieved to see you. You look… rough.”

“What gave that implication? The fractured wrist or the three broken ribs?” He replied tightly, delicately sitting down. “Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you know my name either.”

“’Fraid everyone does at this point. You’re all over the news.”

He grimaced. “Internationally?”

“If I said no, would it make you feel better?”

“Not if I know you’re lying.” Gods, Tai was probably having a heart attack right now. And the girls… he wondered if they even fully understood what was going on. He raked a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

Clover’s expression was one of sympathy. “Hey, it’ll be alright. Now that I’ve found you, we can get you a good lawyer, rather than the pro bono one they appointed you to. Robyn’s already running rallies in the streets of every kingdom and donation rings to hire the best in the business. And Fiona’s calling about a dozen firms a day. She’s already got-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Qrow cut him off, disoriented. “Slow down trigger. I get I’m not in a great position, but isn’t that a bit excessive for a small end criminal court case? And anyways, it’s not like I’m going to trial tomorrow.”

His flippancy only seemed to make the omega more agitated as he lent back, running a hand over his face. “Oh shit. They didn’t assign you a counsel, did they?”

“I’m not that depressed.”

“A legal counsel Qrow!” He scoffed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Okay, now he was so off-track he wasn’t even sure he boarded the train. “Am I… missing something?”

With a deep breath, Clover schooled his features, resting his arms along the tabletop to lean forward. “Qrow, your crime is being considered as a global offense. They’re expediating your case through the process so you can be tried at the UFK.”

Realty cracked and shattered around him.

“W-What?!” He squawked, panic setting in immediately. “Are you fucking serious?!” When the other could only offer him a solemn nod, Qrow withdrew, dropping his head onto the table and curling his one good arm around his face, as if it would be enough to shield him from the future. “Oh Gods. Oh fuck.”

He was screwed. Utterly and royally.

The UFK, or United Four Kingdoms, assembly was a yearly session of the kingdom’s four heads of state and their councils. Mostly it was a peace gathering, a way to discuss the improvements or needs of each kingdom and provide support or discuss any eco-social changes that may need addressing. It was why the Alliance had been so prominent in recent months; so that the four heads might talk about potential alternations to omega rights. A discussion that had not been gaining enough, if any, traction in the past few years. That was why Robyn had organized the ‘Prides’ – a central team in each kingdom whose sole job was to attend the national press conferences and make a loud enough roar that the council would have to take notice. Each one had done a fantastic job, and the news channels had been bustling with stories about how this year’s session would absolutely have to focus on the matter of omega equality.

And in one fell swoop, Qrow had ruined that.

Trials weren’t unheard of at the UFK, but they were extremely rare. In the eighty years the assembly had been convening, there’d only been three prior cases that had gone to court there and each one had had a huge impact on universal laws. If he was tried and convicted, there was no telling what impact his case would have.

A tapping on the glass made him look up tentatively.

Clover’s jaw was set with determination. “It’s okay, Qrow. We’re here to help you.”

“No!” He sat up, gritting his teeth around the pain it caused him. “None of you should get involved! I can’t drag you down with me.”

“Qrow, think for a minute – do you really believe your arrest was just a coincidence?”

That drew him up short. “I…”

“Face it, you’re not exactly impossible to locate. Someone’s probably known where you were for a while and they were just waiting for the perfect moment to bring you in.” He indicated the air around them. “And this is it. The absence of counsel, the lack of prep time, keeping your whereabouts classified. It all adds up. They’re trying to turn you into a scapegoat.”

It was hard logic to beat. Qrow wasn’t exactly uninformed on just how messed up the legal system could be – and the more involved he’d gotten with his work, the deeper the rabbit hole just seemed to go. But to have it be twisted onto him in such a way, like he was merely everyone else’s plaything, made him feel violated.

He wondered how his mother would have felt, seeing him like this.

“So now what?” Qrow finally asked.

“Now, we fight back.” Clover replied assuredly. “Your case could be a gamechanger for omegas everywhere. We aren’t just going to lie down and watch it happen.”

He snorted. “So you’re turning the scapegoat into a martyr.”

“No.” The soldier declined, then added with a quirk of his lips, “We’re turning you into our harbinger.”

It took Qrow a moment to get it. Then he laughed.

A harbinger of change. There might just be some hope left after all.

~

Three days later, he met his defense attorneys.

Pietro was a kindly, wheelchair-bound beta with thirty years of experience. The minute the man started talking, it was obvious he knew his stuff as he lined out what to expect for the court process and what laws that may entangle them from certain kingdoms they might have to prepare for. Things Qrow hadn’t even considered, like operating a business out of a building with only a residential grade fire system – a law the more wildfire prone Mistral took very seriously.

His understudy was named Rhodes. Also a beta, as all lawyers were, the man had only a few years on Qrow himself, but he had a sharp wit and passionate aspiration for justice. He spent most of the time keeping a detailed note log on the things being said, explaining it would help them decide on the best strategy to use when they were in front of the UFK.

“The most difficult thing we have to contend with is time.” Rhodes affirmed. “Unlike most high-profile cases handled in the courts, the kingdoms aren’t going to allow the hearing to go beyond a single day so it doesn’t interfere with the other agendas they have to get too. That means limited evidence presentation and witness testimonies. We’ve got about eight hours to prove you’re an innocent man, which means every second in that room is going to count.”

Qrow swallowed hard. “What about the jury? They on a time limit too?”

“No. The jury are the councils.” Pietro explained. “The members of each kingdom’s council board will give their verdict, and it’s the majority vote of each council that decides their verdict. As long as you get a unanimous majority, you’ll be given your verdict. So, our focus will need to be on swaying each kingdom individually.”

Yeah. No pressure.

Rhodes tapped the end of his pen on the desk between them. “As you can see, it’s a bit of a balancing act. Ideally, our witness testimonies need to come from all over. If you can get us even just a moderate list of people from each kingdom you believe would be willing to speak for you then we can scope out the best choice from each one.”

“Perhaps.” The elder beta intoned, rubbing his chin. “Though Vale may not need any pushing. Our focus should truly lie in targeting the kingdom’s core values.”

“We also need to make sure to address the issues with improper due process.”

“A fine point.”

“I hope you both know I’m barely keeping up with this.” Qrow admitted.

Pietro smiled forgivingly. “Don’t worry your head about it, my boy. Just focus on giving us everything we can possibly work with to keep you out of jail. Do you have any family or friends who might speak on your credibility of character?”

There was only one person that came to mind – and there was no way he would even dare suggest Tai to spill his whole story for millions to hear.

“No.” He replied shortly.

“Not even-”

“Really. No. My old man’s a deadbeat. I haven’t seen my sister in over a decade. And unless these things come with a séance, my mom ain’t gonna have much to say either.” He lent back, shrugging his good shoulder. “As for friends, I haven’t exactly been living stably to form many close relationships. ‘Fraid I won’t be much use on that list either – never kept a detailed record to keep my clients safe. But, I know someone who just might be able to rally up a few.”

Pietro nodded. “Then let’s start there.”

Thankfully, that was the last time they asked him about family.

~

One day short of a week later, he was visited by someone other than his attorneys.

This time, the sight of a familiar face did actually make him cry, even if Tai immediately laid into him.

“You jumped off a roof?! What in the Gods’ Realms were you thinking? You could have died!” Tai smacked his hand on the table for emphasis. He wasn’t even sitting, too agitated to. Had the glass not been separating them, he was pretty sure he would have been in for the ear pinching of his life. “Are you okay, or did the fall knock out what little brain cells you have left?!”

Yet, the omega’s worry was so strong, Qrow could scent it through the little holes in the metal ringlet. It was familiar and more comforting then even a single second locked up in this awful place could even marginally hope to feel like. So, he broke down harder.

Tai sighed and gave up, dropping his forehead against the glass. Qrow struggled to reign himself in, but the days had been too long, too awful and too terrifying to stop the broken dam. The most he managed to get out was a wobbly, “m’sorry.” As he curled himself over the desk.

They hovered there, in silence.

Then, for the second time in his life, Tai purred at him, “I‘m here. You’re okay.”

It was like being draped in an extra soft blanket or pulled into an exceptionally warm hug, something he felt from the inside out. The shakes started to fade and the tears slowed to a drizzle, and then even that went away.

When he lifted his head, Qrow could almost pretend the outburst hadn’t happened at all. “Sorry, meds I’m on just make me emotional.”

“Sure they do.” Tai let him lie, finally taking his seat with the heavy gracelessness of someone who just got off an overnight flight.

While there were at least a dozen questions he wanted to ask, the most prominent came forward first: “Where are the girls?”

“In the waiting room. Ruby got scared. Somehow she got it in her head you’d be crippled.” He gave him a disdainful look, “Can’t imagine why she’d think that.”

He hid his grimace behind a smile, “Shoulda just told her birds my age can fly.”

It was the wrong thing to say as Tai scowled. “Don’t joke! Seriously, I can’t believe how idiotic that was. You’re lucky that little stunt only resulted in a few injuries.”

“Well, I ain’t feeling very lucky.” He snapped back. “Seriously what did you want me to do?”

The omega threw up his hands. “Not try to kill yourself! Do you know how terrified I was?! And then I couldn’t find you no matter how many jails and hospitals I called and I thought-!” His shoulder dropped. “I don’t know what I thought.”

But Qrow knew. He knew exactly what kind of worst-case scenarios must have played through his head when suddenly Qrow was all over the headlines after he tried to escape police arrest and was transported to a nearby care facility for his injuries, only to then disappear completely, the system deliberately hiding him to secure him for the big case. It wasn’t until he’d started meeting with Pietro and Rhodes that he’d learnt just how many infringements of his rights there’d already been. He wasn’t even supposed to be in a prison without being tried first. They were trying to work it into his case.

“If it weren’t for Robyn I never would of even of found you.”

Qrow’s confusion spiked. “Wait, how do you know her?”

“I don’t. She called me off your scroll.” So much for destroying it. “Once she got me in the loop, I took the first flight over I could.”

He didn’t know whether to feel thankful, or violated.

Wait.

He sucked in a sharp breath. Robyn was the one he’d directed his attorney team too. “She didn’t tell you anything else, did she? About the trial?”

“She just told me you were going in for it soon and that you could use some support.” Tai replied. “They aren’t really letting anyone in to see you if they can’t show that they’re family. I had to bring Yang’s birth certificate just to get in here.”

(Qrow might have cited Clover – if he wasn’t fairly certain the man could get himself into anywhere on badges and charisma alone.)

Still, relief swept through him. By whatever graces of the Gods there were, it sounded like Robyn had played him straight on this one. She must have figured out why he’d chosen not to disclose that information himself – and of that he could be grateful. He’d rather spend a hundred years in jail then let any of his family take the stand.

Now he just had to make sure Tai didn’t screw the pooch instead.

“Just be careful with that little tidbit. If the press gets a whiff of it, they’ll be all over you.” He warned.

If anything, Tai seemed insulted. “I’m not afraid of some headliners. I can handle it.”

“Can the girls?” The statement drew the omega up short. Qrow felt bad, playing that card, but it wasn’t like reporters had a moral compass. “Just being realistic. This case isn’t exactly coasting quietly under the table, and the last thing I want is my family being dragged into it all ‘cause of my mistakes.”

“They’re not mistakes.”

“Renegade behavior then.”

“You-!” Tai sighed, running a hand down his face frustratedly. “Stop that. You’re not a joke, you know?”

It was Qrow’s turn to draw up short, heart catching in his throat.

Tai barreled on, unconcerned with his organ transplant. “I’m proud of what you do. More than that, I believe in what you do. You make a difference, every day, even if it seems small. You wouldn’t have risked so much, if you didn’t think that yourself. So will you please try to trust in that, so you can tell those judges where to shove it?”

Still stuck in limbo, his heart pressed insistently against his voice box, willing him to say those accursed three words that desperately wanted to burst out. Instead, all he managed was a wheeze of laughter, and a quiet, “I will.”

“Good.” Satisfied, Tai got to his feet. “I’m going to go get the girls, okay?”

“Okay.” He watched him head for the door, calling just as he opened it. “And Tai?”

“Yeah?”

“…Thank you.”

For supporting me.

For being here with me.

For always knowing just what I need to hear.

He couldn’t decide on what was most important to say, so it all got stuck just like before.

Tai smiled like he’d heard them all regardless. “Anytime.”

~

“Are you ready, my boy?”

Qrow looked away from the airship window, where the Amity Tower was looming, to Pietro’s kind smile. It did little to calm the storm in his stomach. “Pretty sure no one’s ever ‘ready’ for this. My whole life’s about to be decided by a bunch of rich assholes who’ve probably never used the word ‘struggle’ in their lives.”

“Then I suppose it’s up to you to define it for them.”

He scoffed, falling back against the glass. “Hate to tell you this wheels, but English was my worst class.”

That at least earned him a hearty laugh. “You know there’s a saying among us lawyers: You don’t cry until it’s all over. So for now, keep your chin up and fight hard.”

Would be an easier fight if it didn’t feel like he was armed with only a pocketknife going against a trove of machine guns. Still, he couldn’t deny the weight of that sentiment. Especially knowing there was so much more to this fight than just what would happen to him.

Momentarily, as he shut his eyes, he could see Ruby. Coming home with tears streaming down her face after being told she wasn’t good enough to play baseball like the other kids. What if her fears were realized and she did present omega? What if she didn’t and, beyond all expectation, Yang did instead? What if one day, someone decided to throw either one of them into a reformatory and he wasn’t there to overwrite the wrongs?

The idea made him sick inside.

He rose up, facing Pietro once more. “Alright then, let’s do this.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Qrow tried to hold onto that feeling of confidence as long as he could as he continued to watch Amity Tower draw near. Like a beacon welcoming travelers to its side, the building stood alone on the seaside of the most northern part of Sanus. It wasn’t really a tower – it was more akin to a concert hall in size and shape. But it got its name from the spire that shot up in the middle of the roof. The decorative piece was meant to mimic the communication towers that each kingdom built to allow for scroll communication across the nations. A display that proclaimed this place would always be a venue in which the kingdoms could speak freely to one another.

As they began their descent towards the airstrip, he finally noticed the crowd. Circling Amity like a school of sharks were dozens upon dozens of people. They were spilling out along the grand front steps and thickly congested across the massive lawn area to the point barely a patch of green could be seen.

“What in all realms is going on?” Qrow breathed. He’d expected a few news reporters, sure. But nothing like this.

Before he could answer, Pietro’s scroll began to ring. He was quick to answer it. “Ah Rhodes, got here safely then? How are the witnesses doing?”

“Everyone is settled and prepared.” He replied assuredly. “Heard you guys were touching down, so I figured I’d warn you about the protest group.”

“Group?” Qrow echoed. “That’s an army. What are they even protesting?”

“Your arrest.”

His head snapped around; eyes wide.

Rhodes continued, unaware, “They’re all omegas or omega supporters from every nation in Remnant. They’ve been gathering here for days.”

“Incredible.” Pietro declared, adjusting his spectacles. “In all my years, I’ve never seen something quite like this.”

The rest of the conversation faded to background noise as he turned back towards the window, something unexplainable but good lifting him. Somewhere inside of him, he knew they weren’t really here for him, but what he represented. He was a loose cog in the machine, a shift from the system, a shield against the onslaught of endless ammo. Or, as Clover had jokingly coined, their harbinger of change.

Yet it didn’t stop him from feeling overwhelmed with support as the doors to the airship opened and the roar of cheers started up. It was a massive, thunderous noise that shook him to his very core then solidified there like an unbreakable diamond, giving him strength he hadn’t had just minutes ago.

Even as he was led out in cuffs, barred between two officers, he found himself walking tall. Like land making way for a river, the crowd parted for them. Some were carrying signs that said things like ‘Justice for Qrow’ and ‘Branwen can win’. There was even a really ridiculous one that said ‘Uncage our bird!’, complete with an illustration of a crow in a birdcage.

They made him smile, as did the few encouragements that he managed to pick out from rumble of hollers trying to reach him.

“You got this!”

“We’re here with you!”

“Your story’s not over yet!”

He carried it all the way up the stairs and through the entrance. Yet, as the large ornate double doors swung closed behind him, it muffled most of the noise.

Silenced once more.

[sweetestlamb]

Stronger Part 4 (A New Day Has Come)

Summary: Mun-yeong spends some time with someone important and a gets a surprise.

Author's Note: Got an annoying comment on this story yesterday and it motivated me to write lol so thanks! Hope you guys like and comments, that motivate me even more 😉🥰 nothing like love to drive out hate! The story is coming to an end unfortunately, I'm thinking 2 more chapters maybe three. If I had time I would drag it out for 9 😂😂 but schools start Monday so there goes my life. Happy reading y'all.

Solitude gripes at her insanity, tearing her apart until she succumbs to the thoughts that plague her mind of her inadequacies and how insignificant she is to those around her.

Being around Sang-tae oppa fills a portion of the void in your chest but his presence only reminds her further of another that she's dreadfully missing, his messages overflow her phone now. Taking a swift turn from condescending to something sweeter and more pleading. It takes every ounce of restraint in her body not to open them, relying on the bits she can see in the previews. Fully turning a blind eye to him is beyond difficult for her, every atom of her being is calling out for him.

She has dragged herself from the car too many times, desperate to run to him and soothe his pain, eager to see what he wants to talk about, maybe just maybe he's ready to apologize and unclench the clamp he placed on her heart that day on the beach.

But.

What if he isn't? What if he wants to share more of his past with her in the hopes that she'll overlook all that came before. In the past that might have been the case, she had been ever forgiving, something that only he was privy to. But his words ring in her ears- one time event, get lost- invading her dreams and taking the place of her mother's floating figure terrorizing her nightly.

Somewhere along the way she realized that she puts him first, his emotions and comfort have taken precedent over her own and when she'd searched what exactly that meant the answer made her head spin.

A four letter word that most humans will experience except Ko Mun-yeong.

She's much too selfish and destructive to be ever love or be loved by another, she knows that know. When he'd finally opened up to her, there'd been a plethora of emotions that clawed to the surface and vengeance had been one of them, it wasn't enough that he was sharing his darkest secrets because of everything she'd been through to get there. It was as if he'd stabbed her in the chest, left her bleeding only to return and patch up her wounds, too much had occurred and the scarring remained.

So she left in the middle of the night, abandoned that godforsaken place, stuffing expensive fabrics in a vintage Louis Vuitton luggage set, eager to escape the dead silence that rang out in the castle without the Moon brothers pumping life back into it.

In the end she didn't go far, finding a guest house that reminded her of that brief getaway with him, she paid for the week and turned off her phone fielding persistent check in calls from Sang-in. Gang-tae hadn't tried to call merely texting that they should talk and it was almost laughable that despite his seeming desperation he still seemed reluctant to go the full mile. Only her deep rooted sadness stopped her from chuckling at her circumstances, what a tragic mess.

She didn't let his current persistence fool her, fool me once shame on you fool me twice, well everyone knew the rest. It was time she stopped looking like a fool. Regardless of what she felt for him she knew that that this couldn't be, he'd been right all along.

I hope I never see you again.

So much heart ache could have been prevented if she'd heeded his warning. So she was doing it now, her anger had fizzled off tempering into bitter acceptance.

He would give up soon enough, that was his style.

The woman in charge of the guest house steers clear of her and the first day she lays carelessly on the bed roll, not even bothering to comb her hair. Simply, being. It's intoxicating and new, her phone remains turned off tossed to the side as she thinks about nothing- ignoring the way that nothing something has deep sad eyes and a bowl hair cut. She's trying to think about nothing and that's what counts.

She has food delivered and it's strange to eat something that isn't a Subway sandwich after all the food Sang-in as been bringing her and temporarily guilt forms in the pit of her belly, he's probably going crazy trying to locate her but she's just not ready. She's still tired. Bone chilling fatigue.

The next day she walks down a dirt road, her long white dress dragging on the ground, dirtied but the thin material allows a passing breeze to wash across her body and she's content, staring at the sky and thinking of nothing. She spots a lone bird sitting in a tree and wonders if all the other birds have left it behind, whether it has nowhere to go and no one to see. Then she berates herself for worrying about a bird, all this time alone is pushing the limits of her sanity.

The days bleed into each other, dawn folding into dusk with watercolor skies and earthy morning dew.

She tries to write but it's hard to get any words down that aren't depressing and she can't think of any morals or lessons besides don't let anyone in.

Then she tries her hand at drawing, a portrait of her twisting a deer's neck.

The guest house keeper asks her if she hates bears the next day and that's the end of that endeavor.

The week is coming to an end and she's no where closer to knowing what to do, maybe it's time to go back to Seoul, leave this all behind like a bad dream.

When she finally deems herself mentally prepared she turns on her phone, pinging and vibrating from all the forlorn messages, sputtering in her hand as she watches in shock. As expected Sang-in has called and messaged and threatened, she smirks at his empty threats, heart slightly warmed.

Ju-ri, Seung-jae, Sang-tae, and him. All their names flash on her screen. Surprising her, as she'd never expect them to notice her disappearance. Much less reach out to her. Strange. But she writes it off, maybe Sang-in had roped them all into it. With trepidation she opens her messenger and responds to one, keeping a promise, with a few presses and a selfie she sends the message and closes the phone with a sigh.

Done.

The next day the clouds are smoggy ash grey in the sky, darkening the skies into something fierce and she pulls on a sweater and forgoes an umbrella welcoming the storm. Electricity swelters in the thick air causing a sheen of sticky perspiration to cling to her skin. She dons a simple sleeveless mini dress and sandals, trekking to the familiar dirt road.

She walks for hours, aimlessly without a care or worry in her head. Thoughts of him still push their way in at times but she's come to accept that as her baseline, once she returns to Seoul he will be nothing but a faint memory of the time she dreamed too big.

The first drop of rain on her skin makes goose pimples explode across her flesh, fat and chilled as they cascade from the atmosphere. Turning her head up towards the heavens she grins bitterly at nothing, her whole life has been nothing but rain, the moment is oddly fitting.

Mud splatters to her feet coating her toes in sloshy brown that slides between her toes, drenched from the downpour she slowly walks back no haste in her movement, steady footsteps despite the speed of the rain as it pelts against her.

The guest house comes back into sight as she meanders to the gate, vaguely remembering that she'd pulled it shut yet the doors now swing open. Blaming that on the rain she steps through, pulling it shut behind her continuing to stride to the steps.

As she hears the sliding door she eyes catch a figure blurry through the watery sheet in front of her eyes, the voice calling her name stops her in her tracks, no longer able to pretend that it's a mirage.

Her eyes aren't deceiving her, there he is. Once again finding her in the rain, except this time she doesn't need to be saved, she'll be the one doing the saving. For them both.

She takes him in, the rain soaking his hair flat onto his face, clothes plastered to his body as he stands eerily still, dark pools intensely taking her in as well.

After the slight hiccup, she continues walking taking off her sullied sandals and tossing them to the side and then she places her hand on the door, prepared to enter and forget what she saw. Ignorance is bliss.

"Mun-yeong."

All he has to say to get her heart pounding like a drum, she screams in her mind. That time spent apart should have made this easier, why didn't this feel easy? All the fatigue that she'd been running from hits her like a freight train crashing through her passive wall.

"Get lost."

He moves to block her way and her rage simmers below the surface.

"I've been worried about you. We all were so worried. You can't just leave like that, why did you go without saying anything?" His voice is wavering between anger and something softer, more human that makes his voice crack on the last syllable.

"Move."

She's not ready to assess what his being here means, what his voice and his concern mean. None of it makes sense and she's going to file it all under: unexplained phenomenon.

"Can't we talk first, please?"

"I don't want to talk." She sidesteps him, reaching once more for the door.

"Mun-yeong let me explain, let me make this right. I'm sor--"

"Shut up. I said I didn't want to talk. Go back you saw me, I'm alive you don't need to say anything more."

She's not sure she'll be able to contain herself if he says anything else, she's already dangling off the cliff. She can't allow herself to fall and burst apart.

"No! Why are you pushing me away? I need you! I told you I needed you I meant that, you can't just run away damn it."!

She stares blankly before her throat croaks and laughter tumbles from her lips. Deep belly chuckles that shake her body viciously.

Then quick as a switch the laughter stops.

Diamond hard gaze locked on his bewildered face before she speaks, "You think you're the only one who wanted? Do you? I wanted you to stay. I wanted you to fight for me, to let me in. I wanted you to see that I was hurt and apologize and mean it. You think a kiss is enough, you think telling me everything is enough after you break my heart? It's not!" Her voice pierces through the cacophonous drone of the rain beating the world, crying its heart out.

He jolts at her pained cries, fingers reaching for her but she immediately moves out of reach feeling naked and raw under his stare.

You broke my heart.

She's shown too much of her cards already, it's too late to bluff.

So she'll take a page from his book.

Throwing the door open and slamming it shut, holding it tight.

He doesn't try to open it. She sighs in relief leaning back against the hard wood, feeling all the fight evacuate her body.

He's probably gone. You pushed him too hard. Who are you to reject him? No one else will ever tolerate you.

Her thoughts don't scare her, just like Gang-tae had chosen his brother and the life he knew she was doing the same, choosing herself and the loneliness she'd grown accustomed to. Why give him another chance to throw her away he was clearly capable of it, it was only a matter of time she wouldn't change. Couldn't change. Immovable object.

The rain falls and falls, washing everything away and making the world anew. She lays on her back wondering how far he's gotten in this downpour. How had he even found her? All questions she'll never get the answers to.

Sleep tugs her eyelids shut as her thoughts swirl until they too fade to black.

Hands held high over her head, she pulls her tired bones feeling the tension melt with each stretch. Gathering clothes to take a much needed bath she carelessly tugs the door open only to jump back when he almost tumbles into her room.

What.

"What? What are you doing here?" She shrieks, avoiding collision by the barest inch.

"Waiting for you."

She blinks at him, taking in his drenched clothes-noting his shivers- and the dark circles that sink into the skin beneath his eyes, resembling a raccoon.

Had he slept outside all night? And if he had was he insane, why didn't he go back home?

"Why didn't you go back? Are you crazy? You can't sleep outside in the rain!"

She blushes at her outburst, slapping a hand over her traitorous mouth. He merely looks at her, she overlooks the tender glint in his eyes.

Stepping forward he grabs her hand, she fights to pull her appendage away but he tightens his grip which contrasts immensely with the softness in his eyes.

Voice like warm honey he answers, "Because you're here and I.....need you. I'm not going anywhere."

The sun shines brightly outside as a new day rises somewhere in the distance a lone bird's call is answered by another.

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 13

Chapters: 13/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

If someone had asked Martin where he had least expected to be on the day after his thirtieth birthday, the veterinarian probably wouldn’t have been at the top of his list, but it definitely would have made the top ten.

Honestly, Martin didn’t think he had ever stepped foot into a vet clinic before in his life. He had never owned so much as a pet hamster, and now here he stood, clutching a tiny ball of mewling fluff and trying not to get distracted by the pet toys.

He felt positively inundated with new information on all sides. There were about a million different types of pet food lining the walls, and everything seemed to be a new bright colour to draw his distracted eyes. Warning signs that made very little sense to him filled the space, most memorably ‘Large birds must be kept leashed at all times inside the practice’, and ‘Reptiles need to be secured inside their travel enclosures.’

There was indeed an iguana in a massive glass enclosure sunning itself under a heat lamp, but it appeared to be a permanent resident, not a guest. Seemingly opposite to this was the massive tabby cat draped across the reception desk.

Martin begins to panic slightly.

He desperately wished he had allowed one of his lovers to accompany him, but he had sent Gerry back to bed to sleep and Jon had been shooed off to work, both quite thoroughly hung-over.

Now here he stands, alone with his new fluffy friend, and doesn't even know where to start. Neither of his partners have ever actually had a kitten before, but at least they had both owned cats before.

Gerry had been adopted by Saturn as a full-grown boy when he arrived at the window of his shitty little flat in Edinburgh and demanded to be let in. Gerry had confessed to a romantic feeling of instant affection for the fluffy beast and had taken Saturn in without a moment’s hesitation. They had moved together as he traveled the country, eventually settling together in London, where he had found Jon again.

Jon had been raised with several cats that had all been born before him and had liked them, but he had told Martin once that he heavily associated cats with his Grandmother and his slightly cold upbringing. That was all the pet experience he had until he met Saturn and fell in love with him as easily as they’d both fallen in love with Gerry. Like goth, like feline companion, apparently.

Nevertheless, Saturn did not appreciate being taken to the vet and had never gone once since Martin had met him.

"Can I help you, sir?" A kind-looking older lady sat at reception, and she beaconed Martin forward gently.

"I- I-" He started, stuttering badly. He closed his eyes and shook himself to dispel the unfortunate remnant of his childhood. “I found this kitten, and I was hoping the vet could check on it for me?”

“And will you be wanting to surrender it into our care?” She asks, tapping away at her keyboard.

“What?” Martin shies away, pulling the cat protectively even closer to his chest.

“You’re more than welcome to keep it, but we do also take in strays if you aren’t able to.” She smiles at him soothingly.

“Oh, I want to keep her please.” Martin flushes a bit. “I already gave her a name.”

The woman smiles at him knowingly. “The vet can see you in 15 minutes then.”

She takes his contact information, and they weigh Martin’s new friend. She guesses the kitten's age to be about 2 weeks and sends him off to sit close to the iguana.

*

An hour later, Martin stumbles out the door, armed with more supplies than he could ever have imagined he needed to raise one small animal. His head is spinning, alternating between fond adoration and complete anxiety over this new task that he has given himself. Luna meows at him supportively, happy to be clean and have a full belly.

Out on the street, he finds Jon. It’s raining slightly, and he’s wrapped in a long peacoat, with a scarf Martin is certain was once his.

“What are you doing here?” Martin demands, shocked. He stumbles over to his partner, and Jon reaches out to steady him. “I thought you were at the library."

Jon presses a quick kiss to his shocked mouth, before taking several things out of his overcrowded arms.

"I know you said that you were going to do this on your own, but I wanted to be nearby in case you needed me, so I called off." He shrugs a bit, "I reckoned that I had earned it, what with all the overtime I work and don't get paid for."

Martin is filled with warmth, eyes welling a bit. "Oh, Jon."

"Oh no, don't cry. I'm sorry." Jon's face pinches in concern. "I can go if you want me to."

"No, I'm so happy you're here. I was just wishing for you, and there you were. Thank you." Martin steps towards him as best he can, and they kiss softly for a few moments, out in the rain.

In time, the kitten, haphazardly clutched to Martin's chest, makes her displeasure at the soggy conditions known. Gripping hands tightly, Jon and Martin set off towards the bookstore, just a couple blocks over.

It’s quiet when they arrive, the morning pre-work rush over, and the student and lunch crowds far off yet. The two baristas and Tim descend upon them immediately when they see the small head poking out of Martin’s coat. There is much cooing and fuss over Luna, and Martin recounts the tale of discovering her in the back alley of Gerry’s bar.

Once they return to work, Jon and Martin settle on one of the sofas, a coffee table before them. They make up a small cat bed, which Luna explores for a few moments, before sitting at the edge and staring at Martin imploringly. He scopes her up and plops her inside, before placing the tiny bed right in his lap. She happily passes out after that, the wild adventures of the morning catching up with her little kitten body.

Deciding to truly have the day off, Jon does not take out his laptop and start working on it, instead ordering their tea, picking a book to read from the store, and bringing it all over to settle with his partner.

“Thank you for coming,” Martin tells him, a soft look on his face. He leans an elbow on the back of the couch, head resting on his fist. “I didn’t even realise how much I needed you until I saw you there.”

“I know,” Jon starts, frowning in concentration, “that I’m not always the best at sensing these things, that sometimes I can be too focused on myself and the things going on in my head. I do hope that I always manage to catch the important moments, and I trust that you’ll always let me know when I don’t.”

Jon pauses, and sighs, a self-deprecating smile lining his face. He continues, “I want to learn to be who you need me to be. I want to be for you, what you always are to me. I love you, Martin.”

“I love you too, Jon.” Martin squeezes Jon’s hand, before placing a sweet kiss in his palm. “You are exactly who I need you to be.”

It is a soft, hazy sort of day. The rain pours outside, and Jon lies against Martin and reads two books before lunchtime. Martin practices bottle-feeding Luna, every few hours, and Jon sits nearby watching nervously. He wonders vaguely if his partner is alarmed to be around an infant of any kind for a while, but on the third feeding, Jon seems to rouse himself and offers to give it a try.

Each time a new client comes in, there's a round of cooing and petting, and Martin worries that she’ll be spoiled rotten in no time. He imagines that if she spends much time here, he’ll have to sell cat treats and Luna will one day be as fat as a house.

At one point, Jon starts to read aloud, and Martin seems to fall asleep gently propped against his shoulder. He wakes to find Jon laughing softly and Luna learning to use him as a climbing frame.

"I think she likes you, love," Martin whispers into his hair.

"Well, I think I might like her too," Jon confesses, a world away from his scepticism of just this morning.

After lunchtime, Gerry flies into the store very manically, clutching a very strange backpack to his chest. It has a weird clear window, reminiscent of a ship’s porthole, and the rest of it is hard structured plastic.

He ducks down to kiss first Martin, then Jon, before thrusting the backpack into Martin's hands.

"What is this?" Martin asks, holding it away from himself as if it might bite.

"It's a cat backpack. Saturn has always preferred it to a normal cat basket, and I thought it might be useful if we need to take her to work with us and then back to various flats." Gerry walks around the table, bodily picking up Jon's legs and sitting beneath them. He looks like nothing so much as a large, damp bat, black trench coat flapping around him like over large wings. "I ordered her one of her own, but it won't be here for a few days, so I brought Saturn's in the meantime."

There's a beat of shocked silence, so Gerry adds, "Only if you want it, obviously."

"I- I do, thank you." Martin can feel himself blushing with odd pleasure.

He had made sure to ask them if they were okay with Martin keeping Luna, but he hadn't really expected them to embrace the situation with such gusto, and his heart burns with an odd intensity at their gestures of support.

It's almost-

It's almost like they love him, and care about all the things he cares about.

Martin sits, staring at a cat backpack, and allows the realisation to wash over him. It hits him like a tidal wave, despite the dozens and maybe hundreds of times they've said the words to him.

He feels very foolish, left floored by the fact that his lovers- well, that they love him!

Martin knows, understands even, that he has been left slightly broken by his father leaving, his mother hating him, the things that he chose to do to survive in his early adulthood. He does understand that, and yet he never realized that he was hearing Jon and Gerry say they love him and saying the words back, and yet subtly holding on to the (clearly mistaken) understanding that they don't really mean them.

It makes a sick kind of sense, clinging to the idea that they don't really care about him, so when they decide that they don't anymore, it doesn't leave him broken beyond repair.

Martin puts the cat bag down on the table, hands Luna to Gerry, and gets up. He waves at them reassuringly when they try to ask him what's wrong, before walking to the bathroom, locking the door, and sobbing like a child for several long moments.

*

As Luna grows, she spends time with each of them.

Gerry takes her most of the first nights, feeding her through the evenings and then handing her back to Martin as he leaves for the bookstore.

This means she spends quite a lot of her formative life in a bar, but when Martin goes in to check on them, he finds Gerry's plastered clientele just as enamored with the kitten as his own tea-drinking patrons.

Jon likes to have her in the late afternoons, keeping her at the library for a few sleepy hours before he leaves for the day. He tells Martin once that the children's reading group comes in during that time, and he likes to sit in with them and let Luna listen along.

The children, of course, adore her and Jon tells Martin very primly, "Listening comprehension is a very important skill in a developing infant."

Martin finds it hilarious and adorable and can't help but pull Jon into his arms and kiss him breathless, an unimpressed Luna trapped between them.

Saturn does not appreciate Luna at first, disappearing in a huff the first few times Martin brings her over to the studio.

"Don't worry about it, love." Gerry had waved away his concern casually. "He's just a jealous baby. He'll figure out that she wants to play with him eventually, and then they'll be the best of friends."

Indeed, Martin walks into the kitchen one morning to find the two cats curled together in a shaft of sunshine. Saturn is gently giving her a bath, and Luna purrs sweetly at the attention.

When Saturn notices him watching, he untangles himself, shows Martin his bum, and then disappears. He's reminded of nothing so much as Gerry himself, caught eating ice cream for breakfast, or smoking during the day, an activity he would insist is a nighttime pursuit only. The same drama is employed as a distraction technique, and Martin wonders whether the cat learnt it from the goth, or the goth learnt it from the cat.

Luna grows and settles, and Martin adores having her more than almost anything.

He takes the time, as they raise her, to force himself to accept his life for what it truly is. He puts aside the constant nagging fear that Jon and Gerry will lose interest in him one day and begins to notice all the ways they show him they love him, which makes the words all the more precious to him when they take the time to tell him.

[my-happy-little-bean]

The Bookkeeper – Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Nihilism and the Death of Art (II)

pairings: logan/patton (logicality), roman/virgil (prinxiety) words: 2425 chapter warnings: swearing, arguments, drinking, existential crisis  chapter summary: even the greatest artists suffer from the fall

[read on ao3] [masterlist]

< previous chapter

—

Imagine for a moment, anything at all. 

One picks the tools—the instrument, the pen, the paintbrush, the tip of an index finger—and finds places where they fit…

If those places even exist at all. 

If there’s anything at all. If there’s anything, anything–

When there’s no initial meaning  or ultimate meaning  or something,  anything,

is there anything anything anything anyt–

Logan cursed as he slammed his pen into the counter, bringing himself up with it until he was standing, doubled over the table with his palms flat on the surface. His chair knocked against the shelves behind him.

Logan ripped the piece of paper out of the spiral binding of his notebook and hurled it towards the garbage can to his left. He heard the soft sound of it hitting the rim and sighed, flicking his wrist and–

The paper ball fell to the floor. Logan blinked, looking at his outstretched hand.

Nothing.

He slowly lowered his hand and flopped back in his chair with a sigh. His eyes drifted over to his copy of Nihilism and the Death of Art , which still laid open on the counter.

Only a week had passed since he had tumbled out of Virgil’s book nook—seemingly without his magic—yet it felt like the time between then and now moved sluggishly. He barely saw Patton, for many assumed reasons; either Patton was too afraid to step back into Logan's life, or he knew it was best not to. Roman, of course, was nowhere to be found, and to make matters worse—if they could even be worse—the deadline for his speech was in two days and he had nothing. 

Nothing nothing nothing not–

The shop door opened, soft bells chiming throughout the room. Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“Welcome to Fray and Far Fables, how can I–” 

“Logan?” 

Logan’s eyes darted up. Shit. 

“Patton!” He straightened himself up his chair, adjusting his tie and running a hand through his frazzled hair. “I’m– you’re... hi. ” 

“Hi,” Patton said, stretching the word out with hesitancy. He leaned over the front counter. “I haven’t seen you in a bit, and I was just, um, wondering if you’re…” 

Logan forced his mouth into a flat smile. 

“I’m...yeah. I’m okay, I’m...just okay.” 

Patton frowned. Logan watched his gaze shift to the crumpled piece of paper on the floor, as well as the scattered papers surrounding him, filled to each end in red ink. Logan cursed under his breath. Good. This was all just...good.

“If you say so.” Patton shrugged. “Anyway, I’m here to pick up a book if you have any recommendations!” He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe we can look for some together?” 

Logan forced his stare down at the notebook in front of him. 

“They’re all fine books, Patton. You’d like anything.” 

The words fall a bit more icily than he had intended. Logan snuck a glance up and saw each one hit Patton’s chest with a deafening thump! only he could hear. He winced. 

“Right.” Patton gritted his teeth into a smile. “I’ll, um, take a look.” 

Logan sighed, defeated, and nodded wordlessly. The two of them sat in a heavy silence before Patton cleared his throat. 

“Oh! I almost forgot! On the way here, I ran into your friend from the museum– Janus! Yes, Janus. They say hi, first of all. And they also said that whenever you’d like to, they would love to show you around for that tour! If we start heading there after I find a book, we can make it there soon — they told me that now’s a pretty good time to beat the crowds—”

“I’m not going.” 

Patton’s smile, in a more unnerving turn of events, only brightened.

“It could be fun to, um...maybe leave the shop? Even just for a bit?”

“Patton…”

“I’m sure Roman wouldn’t mind, I know Janus would love for you to go– I would love to go with you–”

“I said no , Patton.”

“It– it could be your art-venture, Lo–”

“There are no more art-ventures,” Logan snapped, slamming his fists onto the desk. Patton’s breath hitched at the noise. “There’s– there’s no more art-ventures, there’s no more inspiration– there’s no more need for inspiration because I’m not writing the fucking speech–” 

“Logan, let’s just–” 

“–and there’s nothing!” Logan yelled, hating each word that came out of his mouth and meaning them at the same time. “There’s nothing , Patton! Don’t you get it?!”

“Get...get what?” 

“Everything I write feels like it’s– it’s missing something. Every answer I thought I had doesn’t matter– even Virgil’s book is– is bullshit! There could be a million purposes for art, there could be a million reasons to do anything, but there will always be more nothing , Patton. There’s nothing.”

“L-Love, please, can we–” 

“We can’t do anything, Patton! There’s– there’s no point to anything, not even you and I! ” 

A beat of silence. It suddenly felt like all the lights in the shop flickered out and it was just Logan and Patton, Patton and Logan, the two of them together — until it wasn’t.

Logan wilted as he watched Patton’s heart break through his irises. Patton stumbled back; back until there were miles between the two of them, until each string that tied them together grew warped and stretched and snapped apart. 

Patton stumbled back until he pressed against the door with a deafening thud; until he was out of the door; until he was so far back that Logan was alone and Patton was gone.

—

Roman has only lived twice before. 

The first time was a bit all over the place. There were days when the sun was high in the sky and he could just stroll out of his house and sing to everyone and anyone. He would greet each stranger as if on a cloud, and not only became the town’s mascot, but seemingly became the whole damn parade. It was a busy time, but it was a time he cherished, being so open and known.

Of course, there were the stormier days too; there were days when the rain lasted all day and everyone was rushing against cobblestone to be inside in barely-lit homes. There were days where it’d even be too loud for Roman to focus on anything, and all he could do was sit on his chair and stare outside, waiting and waiting and waiting.

Then, there were the quiet nights. They would come few and far between, but lo and behold, they existed, even for just a little bit. Most of his life was spent in the hustle and bustle of city life, but most of his life was lived in a forest clearing basked in moonlight.

But that first life—the ups, the downs; the sun, the storm, the moon—never seemed to be the story Roman left behind. 

No, that story was pressed into the pages of a book he did his best to write yet one that no one could open; for all he knew at the time, it wasn’t allowed to even exist. 

And then, in his second life, it didn’t exist at all. 

–– 

The moonlight bled into Fray and Far Fables and illuminated a scene of scattered papers and wine glasses. An eerie silence crept across the floors like a fog.

And at the centre of it all was Logan.

He sat on the armchair next to the window, staring wistfully at the streetlamps and purposefully away from the mess behind him. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, trying not to notice the scent of his own breath, or of the umpteenth wine glass he held in his hand. 

After Patton left, the store somehow felt emptier, even more than it did before. Logan tried to outrun the walls closing in on him by doing anything, but the place became so unbearingly hollow to the point where Logan caved and cracked open a bottle of wine. 

And now, here he was. The world was spinning off its axis and Logan couldn’t give a shit.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he heard the soft sound of light and twinkling– at first, he swore it was some wine-induced hallucination– but eventually it filled the shop like air into a parachute. Logan stiffened at the noise and in his delirium, stumbled to his feet. He shot his hand out in front of him. 

“Who goes-it–” 

A flickering red glow flooded his vision. He blinked until it cleared, and met the eyes of a cross-armed Roman, floating in the air in front of the staircase.

A heavy pause sat between them. Logan watched as Roman eyed him up and down. 

“Well. I’ll admit, I’ve never quite seen... this before.” 

“Oh shut up.” The words slip in a way not even Logan expected. Roman’s face twisted, but if he was upset, he didn’t seem to show it.

“Sure. Gonna ignore that suggestion, but sure.” 

Roman looked around at the shop; crumpled-up papers and an array of wine glasses, with a near-empty wine bottle on the counter. He frowned. 

“Why are there so many?” He floated over to sit on top of a wine glass laying on his side. “Did you go and sample the whole town’s selection?”

“I kept–” Logan hiccuped– “forgetting that I had gotten one, one thin’ led to another–” 

“Right, right.” Roman shook his head, flying over to hover over Logan’s shoulder. “So that seems like a ready sign to go to bed, wouldn’t you think?” 

“No no no,” Logan mumbled, attempting to flick Roman off his shoulder before realizing he was just flicking air. He swivelled his head to his other shoulder and Roman waved at him dryly. 

“Yeah, Specs. Not gonna argue about this. We can argue in the morning, like we always do.” 

Roman closed his eyes and pressed his small hands on Logan’s shoulder. Logan could feel the familiar heat of Roman’s magic burn into his skin—fading but trying—and suddenly felt light and airy. 

“I– no!” He stood up before Roman could attempt to lift him up. Roman’s spell dissipated. The force sent him tumbling off Logan’s shoulders with a hard jolt. Roman caught himself in the air and flew back up to meet Logan’s gaze. 

Logan looked at him, steely-eyed. 

“Where...where’d you get that?” 

Roman blinked. “Get...what? This shirt? It’s actually new! I sewed it mysel–”

“No! Not– s’nice shirt, actually, I like the lace– but no! Not the shirt, not the shirt.” Logan loosely waved his hands in front of Roman. “Where did you get that? ” 

“...I sewed these pants as well–”

“The magic!” Logan snapped. “The magic, where’d you get it?” 

A beat of silence. Roman’s aura dimmed. 

“I...you know where I got my magic, Lo. I got it from your grandfather. He was born of magic, and I was born of his.” 

“And he– he born’d a son and– and I was born’d from him! So by that– that logic, is my magic from him too?” 

“Logan, you know I can’t tell you. The origin of magic must be stumbled upon not–” 

“JUST TELL ME!” Logan screamed, slamming his glass on the floor. The lights in the shop flickered dark blue for a millisecond, before going back to a dim fluorescent. Roman staggered back in the air. 

Logan panted for air before looking down. A red cut danced across his palm from the shards of glass, and a drop of blood fell onto the wine-soaked floor. He then locked eyes with Roman, eyes wide and rimmed with an empty emotion Logan couldn’t quite grasp.

“I– I just don’t get why it’s gone,” Logan finally said. He held his bloodied hand to his chest. “I don’t understand why it’s gone– I don’t understand why everything is just gone– ” 

“I can’t help but say I told you so, Logan.” Roman gritted his teeth. “Going so far changes things.”

“So far into what?!” Logan ran a hand through his disheveled hair, burning with frustration. He pointed his finger accusingly at Roman. 

“How– how did you know what would happen in Virgil’s book?"

“I–” 

“Why didn’t you tell me it’d lead to a dead end?!” 

“It wasn’t a dead end, it was just–” 

“ NOTHING!” Logan felt warm tears run down his face. “Why was it nothing?! ” 

“Look, you got your fucking answers, okay?!” Roman snapped. “You can’t blame me for what they are.” 

“But I can blame him!” Logan pointed at the counter, where Virgil’s book laid, haunted and open. “I can blame him, can’t I?!”

“Logan–”

“ You– you send me back into the nothing.” Logan stormed over to the counter and grabbed Virgil’s book with his bloodied hand. He waved it at Roman. “You send me back and lemme at ‘im!” 

“That’s not how it works– ” 

“Then send me in anyway! Let me get lost in the– the nothing! I don’t care! I’m going to end up exactly like the fucking guy– might as well get a head start!” 

“You’re nothing like him,” Roman hissed. “You are nothing like him, Logan, that’s– that’s not him, Logan–”

“How would you fucking know?! You don’t even like him, let alone know him – ”

“I DO!” 

Logan’s breath hitched. Virgil’s book fell to the floor. 

“You...you what?”

Roman’s red glow fizzled out with a sharp buzz and with a gasp, he dropped to the floor. Logan’s eyes widened as he scrambled to catch him. Roman quickly rolled out of his grasp and Logan went tumbling onto the floor boards. 

“Roman! Roman, stop–” 

Roman scampered across the floor as Logan crawled frantically to grab him. Logan slammed his good hand on the floor where Roman stood to catch his breath, but Roman jumped onto the grooved surface of the front counter and heaved himself up. Logan pulled his hand back.

“Roman!” Logan cried out again, forcing himself onto his feet. 

And the last thing he saw was Roman jumping onto the shelves behind the counter. He turned around to face Logan. 

Time seemed to freeze as they locked eyes, and Logan realized with horror that Roman was crying. Tears streamed down his cheeks and slowly pooled around him. 

“R-Roman, I’m–” 

But before Logan could say anything else, Roman tore his gaze from him and started to pull back books to make his way to the back of the shelves. He disappeared behind one of the books, not turning back.

A dim, red glow flickered in Logan’s vision, seemingly buried behind the book spines. 

And then, it was gone.

—

next chapter > 

[forasecondtherewedwon]

2020 overview: writing edition

Tagged by the one and only @i-lovethatforme!!!

Tagging: oh god, I never know who’s done tag games. Please, please, please start your year off right by reflecting on your accomplishments! If you want to play, I tag you!

1. List of works published this year

For the Spideychelle fandom:

One-shots: Slow Mover | The Stripping Point | our love is a bagel | Romance Novelish | Overheard at the Bugle | find light

Multi-chapter fics: The Achilles Kneel | Boyfri(endgame) | For Now, We May Remain Silent | That Floaty Feeling | Wavetide

Spideychelle Week 2020: Spin Again if Not in the Lead | Beyond a Seasonable Doubt | Spiderskin | WIN A DATE WITH SPIDER-MAN! | Parker and Recreation | 21st Century Friction | Track to the Future

Song fics: it’s time tonight (for flight or fight) | and you know the sex is fire | you got my future in your hands | and in your dreams (you’ll see us falling) | tell me the thoughts that surround you | it’s you (that I hold onto) | the distance between us (is half of this city) | wait ‘til you’re announced | your heart is the only place that I call home | this is the good stuff | no hold to hold on you | tout a changé depuis hier | one little touch (and love’s knocked me out) | love reflecting | when I get to you | heads or tails and fairy tales | out here the good girls die

Thotumn: In Over His Headboard | The Man in the Spoon | Unhallowed Arts

Holiday fics: With Zero Power | Schwarzenegger Holiday | Do You Tree What I Tree?

For The Queen’s Gambit:

Queen Takes | Winners’ Drive | Mate in Three | Again? | Kentucky Calling | It Doesn’t All Go | Hand-Me-Down Words | Absolute Penn | All Hope and No Pawns | Strategies for the Advanced Player | Copenhagen Revisited | The Fun | Shaibel’s

Miscellaneous:

Scuffed Souls (for The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)

All the Belles and Whistles (for Bridgerton)

2. Work you are most proud of (and why)

Easy! For Now, We May Remain Silent is the longest, most involved fic I’ve ever written. 178k over 8 months, inching line-by-line through my copy of Pride and Prejudice to hit every moment of plot and character development as I translated everything for the MCU. A ton of work, but extremely rewarding. It was a project that brought me so much joy.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why)

Ouch lol Terrible question. I think you have to be proud of everything you write, if only for the fact of putting in the effort to create it.

4. A favourite excerpt of your writing

Because my Pride and Prejudice AU is in my head now (and always), this, from the studio scene in For Now, We May Remain Silent:

Here are her paintbrushes, disorganized and held in the loose grip of big, old coffee cans. The brushes rattle when Peter runs his finger over their handles, the faded red bristles spinning. A thick, flat brush with discoloured yellow bristles might be his favourite. Glancing over his shoulder, he furtively strokes the uneven hairs with his thumb. They all have this well-used quality that makes his chest clench confusingly. Michelle’s been living a whole life with these in her hand, he thinks, and I don’t know anything about it.

5. Share or describe a favourite review you received

This is now a post about For Now, We May Remain Silent with minor acknowledgement of everything else I wrote this year because the best answer to this one is: every comment on the final chapter of that fic. Those are my feel-good comments and I treasure them. Not only were the people who read it so kind in their reviews, it also meant SO much that they’d read that massive fic and had enough thoughtfulness and stamina left at the end to say something nice to me about it. That one’s always going to be a journey that a bunch of us took together, and I have the comments to prove it! It’s so special to me!

6. A time when writing was really, really hard

February.

7. A scene of characters you wrote that surprised you

LOL There are classier answers to this, but I wrote Peter, MJ, and Brad gettin’ it on in my second-ever threesome fic, Unhallowed Arts! Did not think I’d ever be going down that road again, and it went fine!

8. How did you grow as a writer this year

I learned a lot about my work ethic and the difference between writing for passion and writing for expectation.

9. How do you hope to grow next year

By writing whatever the fuck I want. Jumping fandoms. Letting my stories get messier and fighting the easy option of a neat ending.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc. etc.)

I’m having a “what can I say about @spiderman-homecomeme?” moment that feels very Mean Girls, but instead of discussing her Japanese car commercials in a tone of bitter jealousy, all the good things I could say just make me want to cry. G has really been here for me this year and it feels like we’ve known each other a long, long time. She’s encouraging and patient and hilarious and lets me get away with the WORST euphemisms. I really admire her talent and warmth.

11. Anything from real life show up in your writing this year

Oooh! In find light, I wrote a happy ending that didn’t involve characters staying together, but recognizing that it was better for them to be apart. I write a lot of romance—so much romance!—but most of what I write is not reflective of my actual experience of love. This fic is, and that made it one of my favourites to write.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers

I wrote this in a post not too long ago, but lower your word count goals! I no longer sit down and tell myself I need to write 500 or 1000 words. I just go for 12. Such a small number of words is far less daunting to build upon. Write 12, then 12, then another 12! You’ll get to 100 words and beyond with so much less pressure.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year

I plan nothing, just fall from one thing into the next, so my single goal at the moment is to finish my Bridgerton fic, All the Belles and Whistles!

14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year

Um, excuse me, all of them. I really was going to pick one, but I honestly love everything I write. That’s why I’m still writing.

15. End of Year word count

It’s somewhere between 510k-520k.

[the-descension-inks]

Sojourn (Zutara Week 2020)

Summary: It's a strange fate that they have crafted for themselves; lines that don't quite meet, stars that circle each other, and stories that are almost written. (Or, glimpses into Zuko and Katara's lives, told in reverse, from the very end to the very beginning.)

[6/9] Hesitancy

“And that’s how it ends?” Kya really has tears in her eyes.

Katara smiles, and he thinks it’s the saddest he has seen her in years. “No, sweetie, of course not. Just because you don’t end up with someone doesn’t mean that’s the end.”

“So you can still be friends with them?”

Zuko stills, but Katara finally meets his eye, and it’s only fitting, he thinks, that this decision between them is also taken in silence; in the absence of words, and in a void that exists only between the two of them.

“Always, Kya. Always.”

Read the entire series here, and this chapter under the cut, or on AO3, or on FF.net.

124 AG

Zuko’s broadswords stop mid-air as fire and water explode around him, dissolving into a spray of mist.

Bumi, all of thirteen, drops his own weapon onto the sodden earth at the display, and the turtleducks erupt into commotion; Zuko barely registers any of it.

His eyes flit across the palace garden, find amused blue ones already on him. Katara cackles at what he’s sure is his own scandalized expression. Kya is eight, and Izumi is ten, and they’re already bending like they are masters.

“That was excellent,” Katara tells the girls who are grinning at each other, panting but clearly exuberant. “Wasn’t it, Fire Lord Zuko?”

The nickname brings him to his senses fully; he scowls at the woman who has a smirk dancing on her lips.

“It was like nothing I’ve seen,” he says, beaming at the girls. A thought occurs to him: “Bumi, I’m afraid you’re going to have me flat on my a—” he catches Katara’s glare, “—my back someday.”

The boy’s shoulders lift at that, and a bright smile breaks onto his face. “I totally will, Uncle Zuko!” He turns to his sister and Izumi, flashes them yet another grin. “First to race me to the courtyard wins my packet of fireflakes.”

Zuko blinks, finds Katara mirroring his action, as the kids take off in a scurry of activity.

“All that energy,” he muses. “I miss being young.”

Katara scowls at him, and jabs his forearm meaningfully. “You are forty, Zuko! Not ancient.”

“Wait till you are forty.”

She gives an airy sigh, tilts her head towards him, and says, “I’m sure I’ll still be kicking your ass then, Fire Lord.”

“Is that a challenge, waterbender?” If she has nicknames, then so does he.

“Maybe, it is.”

Katara’s eyes glint, in a way he knows too well. He doesn’t remember the last time he sparred with her, but it has always been a well-balanced dance; an endless duel of offense and defense.

She settles into one of her well honed stances, bending the water from the pond to conjure a shield in front of her. The smile never leaves her face though, and Zuko finds himself shaking his head at her eagerness.

“Oh, come off it, Zuko,” she calls out, clearly noticing his action. “It’s not like you don’t enjoy losing to me.”

“What was that saying you once told me about? All talk and no—”

A blast of water comes his way, and he counters it with two balls of flame. Oh, they are just getting started; testing each other, and seeing what lengths they are willing to take this.

He knows she won’t back down, hold back; she never does. And neither will he. That’s why they work.

“All talk and no walk, is that the one you were talking about?” Katara looks jubilant, a whip of water dancing in between her fingers.

He snorts, and sends a flare towards her in reply, punching into it with all his weight, and she meets it with equal force. Katara grins, and he’s had enough.

He charges forward, flames erupting from his fists, from the kicks he levels in her direction. She is trapped in her need for defense, eyes focused as they anticipate his next attack, arms moving with precision.

He closes in, knows it isn’t an entirely fair fight; she only has the water from the pond, and there’s boundless energy at his disposal. He wonders if that’s why she’s doing this; to prove she can win despite all the odds stacked against her.

It probably is; Katara’s stubborn that way.

She ducks, a flame too close, and he wavers for a moment. Fire’s dangerous; takes a step back, opens his mouth to apologize— oh, she is ruthless today, flinging him back with powerful lashes of her element.

He crashes backward, back meeting a godforsaken tree, a sharp twinge running through his muscles— he’s forty, not sixteen. And Katara’s suddenly in front of him, swirls of water closing around his wrists, rendering him powerless.

She presses closer, fingers jabbing into his chest, pinning him in place. She smiles; ecstatic, victorious, beautiful. “Give up?”

Her voice comes out as a whisper, and suddenly Zuko’s aware of how close they are; the way his heart hammers in his chest, underneath scar she has her hand pressed against, the way her lips are parted, the corners of her mouth twisted in exhilaration, the way a bead of sweat glistens on her neck, and trickles down, further and further—

No.

Katara’s eyes widen, and she staggers backward, restores the distance that should have always existed.

What the fuck was he thinking?

He readies apologies, thinks of all the ways to say he is stupid, and she has a family, and he has a family, and his daughter loves her, and he doesn’t want anything to change—

“I’m going to go inside.”

Katara’s voice cuts through the noise in his head. It’s cold, cut off; it’s worse, so much worse, than having her scream at him, or telling him he no longer deserved her trust.

“Katara, I’m—”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off, a slight tremble in her voice. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

He stares at her helplessly, feels himself dwindle; reduce to nothing. He wonders if he sounds as small as he feels, “I don’t...” Dammit, this isn’t even about him, and this is important: “Izumi likes having you around, the three of you around. And, ever since Nyh passed, I can’t— I don’t want her to lose—”

“Zuko.” She has her hands raised, gesturing him to stop, and an inscrutable expression on her face. She shakes her head, and then, voice horribly flat: “Please, stop.”

“I—”

“We’re not going to stop visiting.” She pauses, wraps her arms around herself. “My kids love you too. I’m not going to do that to them.”

He wonders if it’s tears that he sees glistening in her eyes, but she’s too quick to spin on her heels, and to leave him alone; cold underneath the scorching sun.

.

.

Dinner’s mostly a silent affair, and Zuko wonders if the children pick up on anything.

They’re midway through dessert when Izumi says, an indignant expression on her face, “Dad, you haven’t told us a story in ages.”

Zuko sighs, figures he can use the distraction. “I really haven’t, have I?” He gives his daughter a smile. “Which one would you like to hear, princess?”

Izumi beams, and then ponders for a long time, much to the annoyance of Bumi who makes it known by repeated groans of “Think faster.”

She finally says, eyes gleaming, “Wei and Niao!”

Zuko freezes, recognizes the tale his daughter wants him to recount, something his mother had told him years ago. He doesn’t think he can— he doesn’t think he wants to.

“Uncle Zuko, please,” Kya pipes in.

He swallows, steels his heart. His voice still sounds raspy, “They say the stars Wei and Niao have been in love for ages. Even before the age of Avatars, before man ever walked walked this planet, before the spirits came to visit us.”

The children listen to him in silent wonder, and he catches Katara shifting through the corner of his eyes. He ignores the way his heart clenches, “But despite the love they have for each other, the skies separate them. And only once— just for one single day, the skies part for them to meet.”

Silence overtakes the room. He thinks he hears Kya sniffs, but he keeps his gaze turned down; too afraid that he’ll reveal too much if he looks up.

“I don’t get it,” Bumi’s voice booms. The boy has a frown on his face. “If they really love each other, why can’t they just find a way to be together?”

He flounders, the words somehow too powerful.

But Katara steps in, as always. She gives her son a squeeze on his shoulder, and tells him, very slowly, like she wants him to learn a lesson that she couldn’t, “Because sometimes life can be like that. You can love someone with all your heart, and things may still not work out.”

Zuko feels a lump in his throat, wants to run away, and wash away all the emotions that are lashing at him.

“And that’s how it ends?” Kya really has tears in her eyes.

Katara smiles, and he thinks it’s the saddest he has seen her in years. “No, sweetie, of course not. Just because you don’t end up with someone doesn’t mean that’s the end.”

“So you can still be friends with them?”

Zuko stills, but Katara finally meets his eye, and it’s only fitting, he thinks, that this decision between them is also taken in silence; in the absence of words, and in a void that exists only between the two of them.

“Always, Kya. Always.”

.

.

.

A/N: The story of the stars is heavily inspired by that of Tanabata, a Japanese festival that I stumbled upon while I was looking for Japanese lore about star-crossed lovers (since the Fire Nation is loosely based on imperial Japan).

Thank you for reading!

@zutaraweek